Echoes of the past

Chapter 10

The months after results felt strange.

Not the happy kind of strange. Just… floaty. Like I was watching myself from outside my own body. My parents were different now. Softer. My mother smiled at me across the dinner table like I had done something wonderful, not just passed an exam. My father started calling me counselor as a joke, but the way he said it made my chest hurt.

I didn't have the heart to tell him I still wasn't sure I wanted to be one.

Ezekiel called every evening. Sometimes we talked for an hour. Sometimes just ten minutes. But those calls became the best part of my day. I found myself checking my phone without meaning to. Smiling at messages that said nothing important.

Did you eat?

I saw a stray dog today that reminded me of you. I promise that's a compliment.

I don't know why I'm texting you this. I just wanted to talk to you.

That last one made me stop breathing for a second. I didn't know how to answer it. So I typed back: I wanted you to text me.

It felt small. But it was true.

Then the admission letter came.

It arrived on a Thursday morning. My father placed the brown envelope on the dining table like it was made of glass.

Open it, my mother said. Her voice was calm, but her fingers were wrapped around her coffee cup so tight her knuckles had gone white.

I picked up the envelope. My name was printed on the front. Miss Anita George. Not Anita. Not daughter of. Just my name. Like I was my own person.

I slid my finger under the flap. The paper made a soft tearing sound.

The letter inside was crisp. Official. The university logo sat at the top—a crest I had seen a hundred times in brochures. But seeing it on my own letter felt different. Real.

We are pleased to inform you…

I didn't read the rest. My eyes blurred before I could finish.

What does it say? my father asked, as he took the letter to read it himself. For the first time in my life, he sounded unsure.

I looked up at both of them. My mother. My father. The two people who had built my whole world.

I got in, you got in I said.we said it together though my voice cracked. I got into the University of Abuja,to study law this time around to myself like assuring myself, because I don't know if I can.

My mother burst into tears. Not quiet tears. Loud, messy ones. She pulled me into a hug so tight I couldn't breathe. My father walked to the window, his back to us, but I saw him wipe his eyes with the back of his hand.

That night, we ate my mother's best stew—the one she only made for special occasions. My father opened a bottle of wine. He poured me a small glass, even though I was just legal and never thought he would be the first to serve me that, because I have known him to be strict all my life.

You're becoming a woman, he said, raising his glass. A university woman. A lawyer.

I smiled and clinked my glass against his.

The next few weeks were a blur.

My mother dragged me to every market in town. Bedsheets. Textbooks. A new laptop that cost more than I wanted to think about. She held up different colors of bedsheets and asked which one I liked. I told her blue. She bought blue, purple, and green in case you change your mind.

For the first time, she let me choose things without arguing.

But underneath all the excitement, something else was growing. A tightness in my chest that I couldn't name. Every new purchase felt like a step toward something. But also a step away from something else.

I was happy. I was terrified. I was both at the same time, and the two feelings were so tangled I couldn't tell them apart. But Ezekiel noticed.

We met at the coffee shop again the same one, the same bench by the window. He looked at me across the table and frowned.

You're not okay, he said. Not a question.

I'm fine, I lied.

You're lying. He leaned back in his chair. You always rub your thumb against your finger when you're lying. You've been doing it since we sat down.

I looked down at my hands. He was right. My thumb was moving in small, nervous circles.

How do you notice things like that? I asked.

I don't know, he said. I just notice you.

I looked away. My cheeks felt warm.

I'm scared, I admitted. The words came out before I could stop them. Everyone expects me to be excited. And I am. But I'm also scared. What if I get there and I can't do it? What if I fail? What if I hate it?

Anita.He reached across the table and took my hand. Properly this time. His palm was warm. A little rough. Stop.

I stopped.

You're not supposed to have all the answers yet, he said. That's the whole point of going. You go to learn. Not just from books. From everything.

But what if I make mistakes?

Then you make mistakes. He squeezed my hand. That's how you figure out who you are.

I looked at our hands, intertwined on the table. His fingers were longer than mine. Darker. They fit together like they had always been meant to.

Then I remembered. He wasn't staying.

Ezekiel, I said slowly. Where did you get in?

His face shifted. Just a little. A small flicker of something I couldn't read.

Lagos state university to study Industrial relations and human resources management.

My stomach dropped.

Lagos?I repeated. That's… that's far.

Yeah. He let go of my hand and leaned back. It's far. Different state. Different everything.

But I stopped myself. I didn't want to sound selfish. He got to study his dream course but I can't help but whisper I thought you will change your mind and stay in Abuja. With me.

He was quiet for a moment. Then he sighed.

I thought about it, he said. I really did. But Anita… I've lived in Abuja my whole life. Same streets. Same faces. Same everything. He looked at me. I need to know who I am when I'm not surrounded by everything I've always known. Does that make sense?

I wanted to say no. I wanted to tell him it didn't make sense at all. That staying was easier. That staying meant we could see each other. That staying meant I wouldn't be alone.

But I looked at his face—really looked—and I saw something I hadn't noticed before. Excitement. Nervousness. Hope.

He wanted to go.

And who was I to hold him back?

Yeah, I said quietly. It makes sense.

You're lying again, he said softly. But he smiled.

I'm not lying, I said. I just… I don't like it. But I understand it.

He reached for my hand again. I'm not going to pretend this is easy. It's not. But I'm also not going to pretend you don't matter to me. Because you do. A lot.

My throat tightened.

So here's what I'm thinking, he continued. We don't have to figure everything out today. We just… keep talking. Keep calling. See what happens. No pressure. No promises we can't keep.

That sounds ok I whispered.

It is, he agreed. But you're already scared anyway. So what's a little more?"

I laughed. A real laugh this time. You're terrible at comforting people.

I'm trying my best, he said, grinning. Give a guy some credit.

We stayed until the waiter came to clear our cups. When we finally stood up to leave, Ezekiel pulled me into a hug. Brief. Awkward. His chin rested on top of my head for just a second.

I'll miss you," he said into my hair.

I'll miss you too," I whispered.

And I'll call," he said. Every day. I promise.

You better.

He pulled back and looked at me. You're going to be fine, Anita. You're staying in your city. Your parents are here. Your home is here. You're not losing anything.

I'm losing you, I said. And it not like I will be staying with my parents I am staying in school remember.

The words hung in the air between us.

Ezekiel's face softened. You're not losing me, he said gently. I'm just… far. That's all. Far isn't gone.

I wanted to believe him. I really do.