Love In Repeat

LOVE ON REPEAT By Ojarotade Israel CHAPTER ONE THE LOVE THAT ENDED Maya Adewale had once believed that love was the safest place in the world. She had believed that love meant having someone who would stay when life became difficult. Someone who would listen when words became hard to say. Someone who would remember the little things, keep promises, and make ordinary days feel special. For a long time, Ethan Cole had been that person to her. Or at least, she had believed he was. Now, two years after their relationship ended, Maya sat beside the window of her apartment in Yaba, watching Lagos move beneath the evening sky. The city was alive with its usual noise. Cars crawled along the busy road. Danfo buses honked impatiently. Hawkers moved between vehicles, calling out their goods. A generator rumbled somewhere nearby, while the smell of fried plantain drifted through the open window. Lagos never seemed to rest. Maya envied that. No matter how stressful the day became, the city continued moving. It did not stop to remember the past. It did not pause to question why something had ended. It simply continued. She wished she could do the same. Her phone lay beside her on the couch. The screen lit up again. Teni calling. Maya stared at the name for a moment before answering. “Hello.” “Finally!” Teni exclaimed. “I have been calling you since afternoon.” “I was working.” “You finished work three hours ago.” “I was thinking.” “That is worse.” Maya smiled faintly. “Good evening to you too.” “Good evening, my dear friend. Now tell me, why do you sound like someone who has just lost a court case?” “Because I am tired.” “Tired of work?” “Everything.” There was a brief silence. Teni knew Maya well enough to understand that one word could carry several meanings. “Tired of everything,” Teni repeated slowly. “Or tired of love?” Maya looked outside the window. She did not answer. Teni sighed. “Maya.” “I don’t want to talk about it.” “You don’t have to say his name.” “I wasn’t going to.” “You were thinking about him.” Maya closed her eyes. It had been two years, but Ethan’s name still had the power to make her chest feel tight. She hated that. She hated that a person who was no longer part of her daily life could still occupy so much space in her mind. The worst part was that Ethan had not been cruel from the beginning. If he had been terrible from the first day, Maya would have found it easier to leave. If he had never made her laugh, never held her hand, never listened to her dreams, and never promised her a future, she would not have had so much to remember. But Ethan had been kind once. He had known how she took her tea. He had remembered the name of her childhood best friend. He had called her during long workdays just to hear her voice. He had made plans with her and spoken about the future as if it were something they would definitely share. They had talked about marriage, a home, holidays, and family. They had imagined a life together. Then things began to change. At first, it was small. A missed call. A cancelled plan. A promise postponed. A conversation cut short because he was busy. Maya had understood. She had told herself that every relationship passed through difficult seasons. She had believed that patience would solve everything. But the missed calls became unanswered messages. The cancelled plans became normal. The conversations became arguments, and the arguments became silence. Whenever she tried to explain how she felt, Ethan accused her of overthinking. Whenever she asked for reassurance, he said she was being difficult. Whenever she wanted them to talk, he said she was creating problems. Maya had slowly become afraid of asking for anything. She had stayed longer than she should have because she remembered the man he used to be. She had held on because she believed the good version of him would return. Eventually, she realized she was no longer fighting for their relationship. She was fighting for a memory. “Maya,” Teni said gently, bringing her back to the present. “Are you still there?” “Yes.” “You need to stop allowing one man to ruin your opinion of love.” “He didn’t ruin my opinion of love.” “Then what did he ruin?” “My trust.” Teni became quiet. Maya leaned her head against the wall. “I trusted him completely. That is what I regret.” “You should not regret loving someone.” “I don’t regret loving him. I regret ignoring the signs.” “You were hopeful.” “I was foolish.” “No,” Teni said firmly. “You were hopeful. There is a difference.” Maya did not respond. She wanted to believe her friend, but hope had become a dangerous word. Hope had made her stay when she should have left. Hope had made her accept apologies that were never followed by change. Hope had made her believe that love could fix two people who were no longer trying equally. “I’m done,” Maya said. “With Ethan?” “With dating.” Teni groaned. “Again?” “Yes. Completely.” “You said that six months ago.” “And I meant it.” “You said it last year too.” “I meant it then.” “Maya, you cannot close the entire door because one relationship failed.” “It wasn’t only one relationship.” “Fine. One painful relationship and a few terrible dates.” “Three terrible dates.” “One man asked you for money before ordering food.” “That still counts.” Teni laughed. “You see? You are laughing.” “I can laugh and still be done with men.” “That is not how life works.” “That is how my life works.” Teni sighed dramatically. “You are twenty-eight, beautiful, intelligent, hardworking, and independent.” “Thank you.” “You are welcome. But you are also becoming emotionally unavailable.” “I am protecting my peace.” “You are hiding behind your peace.” Maya looked down at her hands. That sentence touched something she did not want to examine. Maybe Teni was right. Maybe she had built such a strong wall around herself that nobody could reach her anymore. But Maya did not know how to lower it without becoming the woman she had been before—the woman who trusted too quickly, forgave too easily, and stayed too long. “I like my life,” she said quietly. “I have my work. I have my family. I have you. I don’t need a relationship to be happy.” “I agree,” Teni replied. “You do not need a relationship to be happy. But that does not mean you should refuse every possibility of love.” “Love is not a possibility I’m interested in.” “Not even one dinner?” Maya immediately frowned. “No.” “You haven’t even heard what I want to say.” “I know you.” “That is why I’m asking.” “No, Teni.” “One dinner.” “Absolutely not.” “Just meet someone. Talk. Eat. Come home.” “I don’t want to.” “You don’t have to fall in love.” “I know.” “You don’t have to marry him.” “I know.” “You don’t even have to see him again.” “Then why should I go?” “Because you deserve to discover that not every man is Ethan.” Maya looked away. Teni continued, “You can be careful without being closed. You can take your time without running away. You can meet someone without giving them control over your life.” Maya remained silent. Outside, the traffic lights changed, and the road began moving again. She thought about the last two years. She had worked hard to rebuild herself. She had started taking her fashion business seriously. She had learned to enjoy her own company. She had stopped checking Ethan’s social media and stopped wondering whether he missed her. She was finally beginning to feel whole. The idea of meeting someone new frightened her—not because she expected the person to hurt her, but because she feared she might allow herself to care again. “I’m not promising anything,” Maya said. Teni became excited. “Does that mean you agree?” “It means I’m thinking.” “That is almost agreement.” “One dinner,” Maya added quickly. “Nothing more.” Teni laughed. “One dinner.” “And if he behaves badly, I’m leaving.” “Please leave.” “And if he asks me why I’m single, I’m ending the conversation.” “Fair.” “And don’t tell him too much about me.” “Maya, he needs to know your name.” “That is enough information.” Teni laughed again. “You are impossible.” “Yet you remain my friend.” “Unfortunately, yes.” After the call ended, Maya sat quietly for a while. She did not feel excited about the dinner. She did not feel hopeful. She did not feel ready. But she had agreed. Maybe one dinner would not change anything. Maybe it would simply confirm that she was right to stay away from love. Maya stood and walked toward her bedroom. She paused in front of the mirror and studied her reflection. She looked strong. She looked calm. She looked like a woman who had everything under control. But beneath the confident expression was someone who still remembered what it felt like to trust a person completely—and lose the future she had imagined with him. She touched the edge of the mirror and whispered, “Never again.” She did not know that the next person she would meet would challenge that promise. She did not know that love could return in a form she did not recognize. And she certainly did not know that sometimes, the heart repeats a story not because it has learned nothing, but because it has finally learned how to begin again.