Childhood lovers

--- Liya stood at the gate of her old house, holding her school bag tightly. She had not been back to this compound in five years. Everything looked smaller now, except for the big mango tree in the center. The same tree where she and Desmond carved their names when they were ten. "Liya?" A deep voice called from behind. She turned. Her heart stopped. It was Desmond. But he was no longer the skinny boy with torn shorts who used to steal her biscuits. He was tall now, in a clean school uniform, looking at her like he had seen a ghost. "Desmond!" she whispered. He smiled, that same familiar smile that always made her feel safe. "I never believed I would see you again. After you moved to Lagos, you never replied to my letters." Liya felt tears in her eyes. "We lost your address, my mother said... I thought you forgot me." "Forget you?" Desmond walked closer. "How can I forget my best friend? The girl who promised to marry me under the mango tree? Do you remember that promise?" Liya blushed. She remembered. They were children then, making childish promises with mango juice on their lips. But now looking at him, her heart was beating fast for a different reason. "I remember," she said softly. Desmond took her bag from her. "Welcome back, neighbor. My mother still makes that jollof rice you love. Come, let's go home." As they walked side by side towards his house, Liya knew her childhood had just come back to life. But this time, it felt like the beginning of something more than friendship.