I didn't remember when I fell asleep. One moment I was in the cab, Lagos lights blurring past the window, my mind fighting ghosts from years ago. The next, sunlight was forcing its way through the curtains of my small apartment. Reality...
I groaned as I reached for my phone on the bedside table. It was 6:32 am. "Mummy," that soft sleepy voice erased every other thought from my head. "I am awake Zara," I replied, pushing myself up.
By 6:45, Zara was dressed in her neat blue school uniform, hair parted into two puff buns. I had redone it twice because she insisted they had to be perfect. I knelt in front of her, adjusting her collar. "You look beautiful," I said and she grinned. "I know," I laughed in response.
The school drop-off lane was already busy when we arrived. SUVs, drivers in uniform, mothers in gym sets and designer sunglasses. I parked my modest Toyota by the side as Zara hugged me before jumping out. "Pick me early today." "I always do," I responded as I watched her run off, backpack bouncing until she disappeared through the school gate before exhausting slowly.
By 8:10 am, I was at the office. "Office" was a generous word. It was actually just a cramped logistics company on the mainland where the AC worked only when the boss felt generous. I had taken the job because it was stable and the only job I managed to get since I returned to the country a month ago. Because stripping alone wasn't stable and I had bills to pay.
"Amara, you are late," I looked up to see Mr. Benson standing at the entrance to my cubicle, belly stretching against his shirt like it was fighting for freedom. "I am sorry sir," I apologized, not in the mood for any unnecessary argument. He lingered like he wanted an argument; I didn't give him one. Eventually, he walked off, muttering about "young people and unseriousness."
By 10:30, I had answered about twelve angry client emails, printed invoices, and fixed an error my co-worker made but somehow blamed it on the system. But I didn't complain. I couldn't afford to.
My phone buzzed just before lunch. It was a call from Abigail. I stared at the screen for two seconds before picking up. "Look who finally decided to answer my call," she said dramatically. I smiled despite myself. "Good afternoon to you too, madam international traveler," I said and she laughed. "I have been back for three days and you have been forming busy woman."
"I am a busy woman!" I said. "Hmm, we are seeing today. No excuses."
"Abby—"
"No! I don't want to hear it. I missed my best friend's return to Nigeria because I was stuck in Paris. I refuse to miss you again," she said. I glanced around the dull office.
"Fine, after work."
"Yes, I will send a location. And Amara?"
"Hmm?"
"I am really happy you are back." Something in her tone softened me. "Me too," I said quietly.
After the call ended, I stared at my screen for a moment longer than necessary. Abigail was my best friend right from high school. We were both on scholarship, so we bonded over the fact that we were from the same world but now things were quite different. She now belonged to another world, different from mine. One look at her Instagram was all there was to know. International trips here and there, designers and all. Just she was now even engaged to Daniel from high school who is a prominent business man. Even though I haven't seen her in years and we were still able to communicate on the phone like usual, I knew seeing each other was a whole different scenario.
Work ended at 5:07 pm because Mr. Benson believed leaving at exactly 5:00 was a "lack of dedication." I picked Zara up, dropped her with the elderly woman who watched her in the evenings, changed into a simple fitted dress, and drove my car as I headed to the island.
The cafe Abigail chose overlooked the water, city lights glowing as the sun set. The moment I stepped into the cafe, the delicious smell of pastries hit me. Looking around, there were only few people. I spotted her instantly, seated at the corner close to the glass window. Long straight hair, perfect makeup. Dressed in a lovely summer dress, she stood up when she saw me. "Amara!"
We hugged tightly, the kind that carried years inside us. "You look amazing," she said, holding me at arm's length. "So do you," I said as we laughed. For a while, we made small talk; her travels, boutique business, and mutual classmates we had seen online.
Then came the shift.
"So... have you heard about the reunion?" she asked, stirring her drink, my fingers tightened slightly around my glass. "Reunion?"
"Yes, Ten-year high school reunion. This weekend. Everyone is coming."
"Everyone?" That word echoed in my mind as the same face I saw last night at the club flashed before my eyes. "I don't think I should come," I said tightly. Abigail studied me—she had always been too observant. "Because of him?"
I forced a small laugh. "Please. That was a lifetime ago." She didn't look convinced. "Still, you should come. Show them you are doing well. Shock people."
If only she knew how much of my life was smoke and mirrors. "I will think about it," I said.
"That means no."
"That means I will think about it," I replied as she reached across the table and squeezed my hand as if to reassure me.
That night, after Zara fell asleep, I sat alone on the edge of my bed, deep in thought about everything Abigail said to me and the reunion in question. Unable to stop myself, I opened Instagram and searched for him. His name appeared easily—Ethan Adeyemi, and he was verified. His page was filled with pictures of him dressed in tailored suits and headlines about investments and tech expansion. Some pictures of him at the gym, vacations and all. He was really living the life.
Before I could sink in too deep, I locked my phone and lay back, staring at the ceiling. "I don't care what he thinks," I whispered again. But the past had a way of showing up uninvited, though. And this time, it was waiting for me at a reunion I wasn't sure I was strong enough to attend.
Sleep didn't come easily that night. I turned from side to side, the hum of the ceiling fan doing little to quiet my thoughts. Every time I closed my eyes, memories crept in uninvited—faces from the past, laughter that once meant something, moments I thought I had buried properly. I hadn't thought about Ethan in years, not like this. Not with my chest feeling tight and my stomach knotted.
I rolled onto my side and glanced toward Zara's room, the soft glow of her night light spilling into the hallway. She was my anchor, my reason for surviving days that felt heavier than they should. Whatever demons chased me, they had no right to reach her.
Whatever demons chased me, they had no right to reach her. I would endure anything as long as Zara stayed untouched by the mess that had shaped me. I closed my eyes again, forcing myself to breathe slowly, counting each inhale like it was a lifeline.
Tomorrow would come whether I was ready or not. Bills to pay. Work to survive. Smiles to fake. I reminded myself that I had done worse and lived through it. I always did.
Still, somewhere deep in my chest, a quiet certainty settled in—this reunion wasn't just another event. It was a door I had tried to seal shut.
And doors like that never stayed closed forever