In The Time Between Us

Chapter 5: Cracks in the Silence

They made memories like people made playlists—intentionally, lovingly, and on purpose.

There was the rainy Saturday they got stuck in the campus lecture hall after everyone else had run for cover. Emmanuel had taken off his hoodie, laid it on the floor like it was a royal picnic mat, and they had talked for hours about nothing and everything while rain drummed on the roof like a heartbeat. That was the day Funmi first called him “Em.”

Then there was the time they danced under the streetlight outside Emmanuel’s hostel while his roommate played Asa’s “Bibanke” through the window. Off-beat, barefoot, and bold—Funmi had laughed so hard, she cried.

They had secret hand signals across lecture halls. They had inside jokes that made their friends roll their eyes. They’d written each other letters—actual handwritten ones—instead of just texts, and Emmanuel kept every single one folded neatly in the back of his journal.

It was beautiful. Effortless. The kind of love that made strangers smile when they passed by.

But somewhere between the laughter and the letters, something shifted.

It started small.

Funmi didn’t reply his messages as quickly. Emmanuel stopped walking her to class every morning. They both blamed exams, stress, group projects, anything but each other.

Then one day, during a random evening hangout, Funmi caught Emmanuel staring at his phone longer than at her.

“Something more interesting on that screen?” she asked casually.

He looked up, startled. “What? No. Just checking something.”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Later that week, he forgot to show up for their lunch. No text. No call. Just an apology two hours late.

“I’m not angry,” she told him.

But she was.

Still, they tried to pretend. Pretend that things were the same. Pretend they weren’t slowly losing that spark that once felt so impossible to dim.

Then came the night that changed everything.

They had agreed to meet near the library steps after lectures. Emmanuel arrived twenty minutes late. Again.

This time, Funmi was already standing, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

“I waited,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry,” he replied. “Group meeting ran over.”

She studied his face like she was looking for a lie, even if she didn’t want to find one.

“That’s been happening a lot lately.”

Emmanuel sighed. “Funmi, please don’t start. It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose.”

Her jaw tightened. “You think I want to be this girl? The one who complains when you’re late? Who sounds like she’s keeping score?”

“Then don’t be,” he snapped—instantly regretting it.

She stepped back slightly, as if the words had nudged her.

There was a long silence.

“You know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “I used to think love like ours couldn’t c***k. Now I’m just hoping it doesn’t shatter.”

He didn’t know what to say.

Funmi turned, walking down the steps without waiting for him. The sky was growing dark, the moon not yet risen.

And Emmanuel... just stood there.

Heart in his throat.

Eyes stinging.

Watching the girl who once danced under streetlights disappear into the night.