Heart Fire.
Chapter Thirty-one: "The One For Me."
Announcement: Make your own individual comment first before replying everyone, once you have done that, you can reply as many comments as you want, enjoy the heart fire community.❤️
Each chapter has an engagement target, and if it’s not reached, the next chapter stays locked. You only unlock the next part when the goal is met.
Engagement target for this chapter: 1000 likes, 600 comments, 600 restacks.
I’m rooting for you, you can do it. 😉
SOLAPE’S P.O.V:
The first thing Solape noticed when they stepped into his house was the light. It was not his regular lighting. This one was… soft. Warm. Golden. Like someone had bottled sunset and poured it into the room.
The second thing she noticed was the silence. The kind of silence that made you lower your voice instinctively— like the house itself was holding its breath.
Solape took one step forward, then another. Her heels didn’t click the way they normally did. The rug had swallowed the sound, like Korede had planned even that.
She turned into the hallway and her eyes adjusted, and her brain stalled.
Candles.
So many candles.
Some on the floor in a neat path, some on the shelves, some on the center table—steady flames, calm, confident, as if they too had been discipled.
Flowers.
Not the polite “one small bouquet” type.
Proper flowers.
White blooms, and deep red ones— rich, romantic red— arranged like someone’s auntie florist had painstakingly placed the stems.
And then she saw the arch.
An actual arch.
Draped in white. Laced with those same deep red flowers.
Her heart gave one violent jump.
No. No no no.
She turned slowly, like her body was afraid that if she moved too fast, the moment would disappear.
And that was when she saw them.
Pictures.
Of them.
Framed. Printed. Arranged everywhere.
One of them laughing in the car when she had made a joke that made him break character.
One from church, when she had been leaning close to Miriam, and he was looking at her like he had forgotten the whole congregation existed.
One from the awards night— sharp, clean, glamorous.
One from a candid moment that made her pause because— She hadn’t even known he had that picture.
She stared at it.
“When did you take this?” she whispered, mostly to herself.
And then, like all her senses were waking up one after the other, the music reached her ears.
Not speakers.
Violins.
Live.
Actual human beings with bows and strings in his sitting room.
Solape stopped walking.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
“Korede…”
Her voice came out smaller than she meant it to.
She turned back.
And her knees almost stopped obeying her.
He was already on one knee.
Just there.
Like it was the most normal thing in the world for the man to rearrange his entire living room into a romance set and then kneel like he was about to change the course of her life.
He was.
He was about to change the course of her life.
Solape blinked once.
Twice.
Her chest tightened, and the laugh that rose in her throat didn’t make it out— because the lump there was too big.
Korede looked up at her. Just… Korede. A man wildly in love. Barefaced. Unhidden.
He held out the ring, but he didn’t rush his words.
“Solape,” he said softly— and even her name in his mouth sounded full.
“I have loved you in stages. First with curiosity. Then with admiration. Then with gratitude… and now—” he swallowed, like even he was feeling the weight of his own sentence— “with certainty.”
Solape’s eyes were already shining. Not because she wanted to cry. She didn’t want to cry. But her body was betraying her.
Korede smiled gently, like he could see her trying to hold herself.
“You came into my life with fire,” he continued. “Real fire. Not the kind that destroys. The kind that reveals. The kind that warms. The kind that refuses pretence.”
Her lips trembled. She pressed them together, stubbornly. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“You have challenged me,” he said, voice steady but thickening at the edges. “Undone me. Comforted me. Prayed for me. Provoked me. Encouraged me…”
His eyes softened.
“And you have loved me with your whole self.”
Solape exhaled shakily.
He took a breath, like he was grounding himself.
“You have become home to me. Not because you are perfect… but because with you, I am known.”
He paused.
“And because every road I have prayed through keeps bringing me back toward you.”
Solape let out a tiny, broken laugh through her breath.
“Ha...Korede…”
Korede’s smile widened slightly— just enough to show he heard her, and still wasn’t letting her escape.
Then he got serious again.
“I do not just want to date you,” he said. “I do not just want to admire you. I want to build with you. Pray with you. Laugh with you. Protect you.”
He held her gaze like it was a vow already.
“I want to come home to you. I want to grow old with you. I want to stand before God and serve Him with you.”
Solape’s throat tightened painfully.
His voice dropped.
“You are the one for my life. The one for my call. The one for my heart.”
Then his eyes flickered with a quiet, familiar mischief, Korede’s own brand of humour, the one he only showed her.
“And yes… the one for my body too.”
Solape’s laugh burst out, half scandalized, half relieved. “Ehn?? In front of the violinists??”
Korede chuckled, then added quickly, “But we will continue to fear God.”
Solape nodded rapidly like she was in a church service. “Yes. Fear God. Fear God very well.”
Korede smiled—soft, certain—and then he said her full name.
“Oluwasolape… will you marry me?”
Solape nodded before she could speak.
Then she shook her head like she couldn’t believe herself.
Then she laughed and cried at the same time and said, “Yes.”
Korede exhaled like he had been holding the world in his lungs.
“Yes?” he asked again, like he needed to hear it twice to let it enter his bones.
“Yes!” she repeated, louder. “Yes!”
He stood, slid the ring onto her finger with hands that trembled just a little.
And as soon as the ring settled, Solape’s self-control expired.
She threw herself into his arms.
He caught her easily, like he had been waiting to.
She clung to him, laughing and crying into his shoulder like a woman who had been holding a lot of hope and finally got to put it down.
“I can’t believe you did this,” she said, voice muffled against him.
“I’ve been planning it and I had help” he murmured into her hair.
“Wow… who?.”
“NJ and Miriam.”
She pulled back enough to look at him properly— eyes wet, face lit up like joy had turned on a generator inside her.
“I love you so much,” she whispered.
Korede’s face softened into something almost unbearably tender.
“I love you too.”
They stood there, under candlelight and flowers and the gaze of their own captured memories, while the violins kept singing behind them like heaven was minding its business.
Then Korede touched her cheek, thumb gentle.
“Can I pray for us?” he asked softly.
Solape nodded.
“Father, we give You thanks. You are the Author of this story, and we acknowledge You. Thank You for the way You have guided us— through fire, through growth, through grace. I ask that You keep our love clean. Keep our hearts soft. Keep our intentions pure. Teach us how to honour You and honour each other.
Lord, build our home before You build our wedding. Give us wisdom, patience, and joy. Let our marriage be safe, fruitful, and full of You.
And as You have brought us this far, carry us well— into covenant, into friendship, into purpose. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
And by the time he finished, Solape stared at him like she wanted to fight him for making her cry again.
“Please,” she said, laughing through her breath, “let me enjoy my engagement before you finish me.”
Korede laughed, kissed her forehead—
Only her forehead.
Because even with a ring on her finger, boundaries still had to survive till the wedding day.
And Solape— still shaking a little— lifted her hand to stare at the ring again.
Then she looked up at him, eyes bright.
“Eh-hehn,” she said slowly. “So… this is why you have been looking excited since.”
Korede smiled, calm and unapologetic.
“Yes.”
“How did you get the girls to not storm this place?”
“I wanted it to be just us. I felt you would want that too and they agreed. I promised them a recording though. This is being recorded.”
Solape inhaled, and placed her hands on her chest, “Oh I love that. That means, I can always relive this moment.”
“Yes you can. I did promise them you would call immediately after.”
At that, Solape immediately reached for her phone, navigated to the group chat while PK watched.
“You have to change the name of this group.” He said
“To what?”
But before he could reply, the girls picked up screaming.
Miriam appeared first— headscarf half-on, eyes already suspicious, phone too close to her face.
NJ’s face slid into frame beside her, glasses on, expression tight like she was trying to maintain professionalism in the middle of impending chaos.
The moment they saw Solape’s face— Miriam screamed. The scream of somebody whose plan has entered manifestation.
“AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
NJ clapped once, sharp and controlled, like a referee. “YES! YES! YES! SOLAPE, LET ME SEE YOUR HAND.”
Solape laughed, covering her face. “You people should calm down.”
Miriam pointed violently at the screen. “CALM DOWN KE? SHOW US YOUR HAND?!!”
Solape turned her hand toward the camera with a flourish. The diamond caught the candlelight and flashed.
Miriam’s scream entered a new dimension.
“O MY GOOOOOOODDDDDDD!”
NJ’s hand flew to her mouth. “Okay,” NJ said, voice shaking. “Okay. It’s real. It’s real-real.”
Miriam was already crying. Not soft tears. Big tears with joy.
“Ah… God has done it… Our Solape…”
Solape laughed through her own tears. “Miriam stop, you’ll make me cry again.”
Miriam sniffed. “CRY! This is the one you’re allowed to cry!”
NJ leaned forward, eyes bright. “How did you say the yes?”
Solape blinked. “Like Yes now… how else.”
NJ nodded once. “Say it again.”
Solape burst out laughing. “NJ, you’re mad.”
“Say it again,” NJ repeated, very calmly, like a lawyer collecting sworn testimony.
Solape lifted her hand again, smiling like her cheeks were tired. “Yes. Yes!!!.” She screamed.
Miriam slapped the bed. “EYYYYYYYYY!”
Then Miriam suddenly narrowed her eyes. “Wait. Where is he?”
Solape angled the phone.
Korede stepped into frame— shirt sleeves rolled, beaming like a man who had all his prayers answered.
He greeted politely. “Good evening.”
Miriam screamed like she had been waiting for that greeting all her life.
“GOOD EVENING SIRRRRR! OUR HUSBAND!”
Solape hissed, scandalized. “Miriam!”
NJ ignored Miriam completely and looked straight at Korede.
“Congratulations, PK.”
Korede smiled, soft. “Thank you, NJ.”
Miriam was wiping tears aggressively. “So when is the wedding?”
Solape’s eyes widened. “Miriam!”
Korede’s mouth twitched. “Soon.”
Miriam screamed again. “SOOOOONNNNN?!!!!”
NJ pressed her lips together, trying to be the sensible one. Failing.
“Okay,” NJ said, voice gentler now. “How did you do it? Like… what did you say?”
Solape exhaled. “He talked. Sebi you will still watch the video”
Miriam leaned forward. “We need full gist. Ring close-up. Speech breakdown. Your reaction. When you shouted. Everything.”
Solape laughed. “He prayed.”
NJ made a small sound of emotional surrender. “Of course he did.”
Miriam pointed at Korede. “PK?! You proposed and still did altar call inside the living room.”
Korede laughed quietly. “It was short.”
Solape rolled her eyes. “It was so sweet.”
Miriam nodded like an elder. “Good. Marriage is spiritual warfare. Start strong.”
NJ’s eyes narrowed again. “Did you kiss?”
Solape froze.
Miriam screamed. “AH! NJ! BEHAVE!”
NJ held her gaze steady. “Answer. We are guarding the boundaries together.”
Solape laughed and covered her face. “Forehead.”
Miriam clapped. “Yes! Respect! Boundary ministry!”
NJ said, shaking her head like a secondary school prinicpal. “Okay. We’ll take it.”
Solape looked at them—her two girls—eyes shining, heart full.
“You people… thank you,” she said softly.
Miriam sniffed again. “Abeg don’t start thanksgiving speech. We are not done.”
NJ nodded. “Yes. We’re not done. There is still a wedding to plan.”
Korede leaned slightly into frame again, calm and smug.
“And you people have to change the group name,” he added.
Solape gasped. “PK! Change the group name to what”
“Order. Peace. Fire.” Korede said, as he put his arm around her, “My Fire,”
Miriam screamed. “Heeeeeeeeeeeeey! God whenest thou? Am I a rock!!!”
NJ smiled for real now. “I love it.”
Solape laughed until her chest hurt.
And somewhere behind the camera, the violins kept playing like nothing was happening— while three women on a video call screamed like revival had broken out.
**********
If their proposal had caused a stir, their pre-wedding shoot caused a small national incident.
They released the photos on a Wednesday evening.
By Wednesday night, everybody had an opinion.
They did three looks.
The first look was formal. Classic elegance. Korede in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, clean and devastatingly composed.
Solape in a structured white gown that hugged and floated in the right places, her hair laid, jewellery gleaming, looking like soft power in human form.
The pictures were intimate without being risqué. Regal without trying too hard.
One photo in particular— him looking at her like the entire room had disappeared, her laughing mid-turn— circulated so widely that someone on Twitter posted:
“If my husband does not look at me like this, cancel the wedding.”
The next look finished people.
Rich aso-oke.
Korede in agbada that sat on him like generational legacy. Solape in a fitted iro and buba with ipele, coral-toned beads, gele set like a crown, looking every inch like a bride who could bless and command the room at once.
There was one picture of her seated while he stood slightly behind her, one hand resting near her shoulder, both of them looking into the camera with quiet confidence.
The comments were immediate.
“This is how to do culture.”
“They look expensive.”
“It’s giving kingdom and quality.”
And then came the look that really sent people into emotional trouble. Simple jeans. White tops.
Barely styled compared to the others, yet somehow the most intimate.
One photo had them seated on the floor, laughing like they had forgotten the camera.
Another had Solape tucked into his side, both of them barefoot, relaxed, happy, very obviously best friends.
That was the one that broke the internet completely.
The blogs did what blogs do.
KINGDOM WATCH NAIJA:
“Pastor Korede and fiancée release beautiful pre-wedding photos.”
This is a love story marked by grace, growth and godly commitment. We love how they honour God and still give us premium romance. Body of Christ is proud.
CHURCH GIST posted: “Proof that holy does not mean boring.”
SOFT LIFE TEA:
Being a secular blog, They were less restrained.
“Chef babe and Pastor boo are serving premium soft life.”
Lagos sweetheart Solape and pastor fiancé break internet with pre-wedding shoot. Who said church people don’t know how to pepper us?
Even the gossip pages that had once dragged their relationship had to behave.
One of them grudgingly wrote:
“Well, whatever they are doing is working because this is beautiful.”
Author’s Note: We have a wedding to plan!!!! Our people are getting married, let’s start sharing Asoebi.😁
The next chapter will be the Epilogue, what a beautiful journey it’s been!🥰
To Catch up: Read Chapter one here, Chapter two here, Chapter three here, Chapter Four here, and Chapter Five here, Chapter Six here, Chapter Seven here, Chapter Eight here, Chapter Nine here, Chapter Ten here, Chapter Eleven here, Chapter Twelve here, Chapter Thirteen here, Chapter Fourteen here, Chapter Fifteen here, Chapter Sixteen here, Chapter Seventeen here, Chapter Eighteen here, Chapter Nineteen here, Chapter Twenty here, Chapter Twenty One here, Chapter Twenty Two here, Chapter Twenty Three here, Chapter Twenty Four here, Chapter Twenty Five here, Chapter Twenty Six here, Chapter Twenty Seven here, Chapter Twenty Eight here, Chapter Twenty Nine here, and Chapter Thirty here.
See you.❤️


How else to start a Monday morning
Week wey go sweet, na from Monday we go know
Thank you so much PB
Good morning everybody
But PB what do you mean by Epilogue? 😭. They will still give birth nah 😂, we need like 20 more chapters after this 🥹