Echoes of the past

Chapter 11

The night before he left for Ilorin, I couldn't sleep.

I lay in my bed the same bed I had slept in since I was sevenband stared at the ceiling. My suitcase was already packed for university too, but mine didn't have to go far. Just across town. His was going hundreds of kilometers away.

I got up and walked to the window. Outside, our street was quiet. The streetlights cast orange pools on the pavement. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked.

I thought about Ezekiel. His warm hand on mine. His chin on my head. The way he said I notice you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I thought about the distance between Abuja and Lagos. Different cities. Different states. Different lives.

I thought about my mother's confession that she had been like me once. Scared. Unsure. Hiding everything too well.

I thought about my father, standing at the window, wiping his eyes when he thought no one was looking.

I thought about the girl I used to be. The one who believed life was rosy because she had never seen the thorns.

She was still inside me somewhere. Smaller now. Quieter.

But not gone.

My phone buzzed. A text from Ezekiel: Can't sleep either.

I smiled in the darkness. Me neither.

You're going to be amazing, he wrote. At UNIABUJA. In law school. In everything. Not because you're ready. Because you show up even when you're scared.

I don't feel brave.

That's the thing about brave people. They never do.

I wanted to call him. To hear his voice one last time before he left. But it was past midnight, and my parents were asleep, and I didn't trust myself not to cry.

So I just typed: Thank you. For everything.

You don't have to thank me, he replied. Just don't forget me when you become a big shot lawyer.

I laughed softly into my pillow. I won't.

Promise?

Promise.

I stared at the screen for a long time. Then I put my phone down, climbed back into bed, and pulled the covers up to my chin.

Tomorrow, I would start my new life in Abuja. The city I had always known. The streets I had walked a thousand times.

But it would feel different now. Because he wouldn't be here.

Tomorrow, Ezekiel would get on a bus to lagos. A new state. New people. New everything.

And I would stay.

But tonight, I was still Anita George. The girl who believed in the good part of life. The girl who was afraid of her own shadow.

The girl who was about to learn that staying could be just as hard as leaving.