THE LAST MESSAGE

“If you don’t return my chicken, Ethan, consider this relationship officially over.” Amara Okafor stood in the middle of her hostel room, staring at her phone with the seriousness of a woman addressing a national emergency. On the other end of the call, Ethan burst into laughter. “Baby, you cannot end a two-year relationship because of one piece of chicken.” “One piece?” She gasped. “You took the biggest piece! The one I was saving for the end!” “You were saving it for the end? How was I supposed to know? It was sitting there looking lonely.” “It was sitting there because it was mine!” Ethan laughed harder. Amara picked up a pillow and threw it at the wall. “You’re laughing now. When I replace you with somebody who respects food boundaries, don’t come crying to me.” “Somebody who respects food boundaries?” he repeated. “Please send me his name. I want to interview him.” “Goodbye, Ethan.” “Baby—” She ended the call. For exactly four seconds, Amara maintained her angry expression. Then she smiled. Unfortunately, her roommate noticed. Teniola raised her head from the bed, where she had been scrolling through her phone. “Are you smiling at your enemy?” “Mind your business.” “Your enemy who calls you baby?” Amara threw her pillow at her. Teniola caught it and laughed. “This is what love has done to you. Two years ago, if a man stole your chicken, you would have reported him to the police.” “He’s lucky I love him.” “Poor boy. Love has finished him.” Amara shook her head, collected her handbag, and checked herself in the mirror. She wore a simple blue top, black jeans, and white trainers. Her long hair fell over her shoulders, and the little dimples that appeared whenever she smiled made it difficult for her to look as serious as she wanted. She had a lecture in less than thirty minutes. Teniola finally sat up. “Are we buying breakfast?” “You said you were broke.” “I am. But I can still admire food through a glass display.” “You’re unbelievable.” “And yet, you love me.” “Unfortunately.” They left the hostel together, arguing about breakfast all the way to the campus road. The university was already awake. Students hurried towards lecture halls, vendors arranged snacks on their tables, and the smell of fresh bread drifted from a nearby shop. Somewhere across the road, a group of students were arguing loudly about a football match. Amara loved mornings like this. There was something comforting about the ordinary rhythm of campus life: familiar faces, crowded walkways, friends calling each other from a distance, and the constant feeling that something interesting might happen before the day ended. They had barely reached the faculty building when a familiar voice called her name. “Madam, your breakfast has arrived.” Ethan stood beside the entrance, holding a takeaway bag in one hand and two bottled drinks in the other. Amara stopped walking. Teniola immediately looked between them. “Ah. So this is where our breakfast budget went.” Ethan grinned. “Good morning to you too, Teniola.” “Don’t good-morning me. Have you brought enough for everybody?” He handed her a smaller bag. Teniola’s expression changed instantly. “Ethan, you are an exceptional human being.” “Yesterday, I was an unfortunate boyfriend who stole chicken.” “People grow. I believe in personal development.” Amara laughed as Ethan handed her breakfast. Inside was a sandwich and the coffee she always ordered from the little café near the university gate. She looked up at him. “You remembered?” He frowned playfully. “Remembered what?” “My coffee.” “Baby, you order the same thing every time. Even the woman who sells it knows your name.” “Still.” His expression softened. “Of course I remembered.” It was such a small thing, but Amara felt warmth spread through her chest. Ethan had a way of making ordinary moments feel personal. He remembered how she liked her coffee, which songs she played when she was tired, and the exact face she made when she was trying not to laugh. He wasn’t perfect. He could be annoying, stubborn, and unnecessarily dramatic about football. But he made her feel loved in ways that mattered to her. Teniola glanced at her watch. “Lovely. Beautiful. Very touching. Unfortunately, some of us have a lecturer who believes lateness is a criminal offence.” They hurried inside. The lecture was long, the seats uncomfortable, and the lecturer particularly enthusiastic about asking questions nobody wanted to answer. Amara took notes while Teniola repeatedly whispered complaints about the speed of the lecturer’s dictation. When the class finally ended, they found Ethan waiting outside. He had stayed to meet a friend in another department, but he immediately fell into step beside Amara. “Are you free this afternoon?” he asked. “Why?” “Must I have a reason to take my girlfriend somewhere?” “Yes. Especially when the last place you took me was a restaurant where you spent twenty minutes explaining why my food was too expensive.” “It was expensive!” “You ate half of it.” “Quality control.” She laughed and slipped her hand into his. “Fine. Where are we going?” “Somewhere nice.” “That sounds suspiciously like somewhere cheap.” “Amara!” She laughed so hard that a passing student turned to look at them. For the rest of the afternoon, they wandered around campus, shared lunch at a small café, and took ridiculous pictures on Ethan’s phone. He complained about her refusing to smile properly in photographs, while she accused him of deliberately choosing his worst angles. Before they parted, Ethan reached into his pocket and brought out a small box. Amara stared at it. “What did you do?” “Why do you assume I’ve done something?” “Because you’re smiling like someone who has spent money irresponsibly.” “Just open it.” Inside lay a delicate silver bracelet with a tiny crescent moon hanging from it. Her expression softened. “Ethan…” “It’s not your birthday,” he said quickly. “And you don’t have to make a speech. I just saw it and thought of you.” She held out her wrist, and he fastened it gently. Then she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you.” He kissed her forehead. “You’re welcome, trouble.” For a moment, they remained there, holding each other while the campus moved around them. Amara didn’t know what the future would bring. Neither did Ethan. But that afternoon, the future was not something they needed to worry about. They had lectures to complain about, friends to annoy, places to visit, and a hundred ordinary memories still waiting to be made. And for now, that was more than enough.