Amara woke up the next morning feeling like she had been running all night in her dreams. Her pillow was still damp. Her head ached from crying. Her heart felt heavier than yesterday.
But she still got up.
Because pain or no pain, life doesn't stop.
She brushed her teeth, took a long shower, and stood staring at herself in the mirror. Her reflection looked unfamiliar—like a girl who had aged overnight. A girl who finally saw the truth clearly.
There was no anger now.
Just… emptiness.
She wrapped a towel around her body and walked into her room. The morning sun crawled through the curtains, casting soft golden lines on her floor, but even the sunlight felt dimmer than usual.
She was about to reach for her lotion when her phone buzzed.
Dapo: "Please, can we talk today? I don't want things to end this way."
For a long second, she just stared at the message. Her chest tightened painfully—but she refused to let her emotions drag her back into that dark place.
She typed a reply slowly:
"I'm not ready to talk."
Seconds later, another message came.
Dapo: "I understand. Just don't shut me out completely. Please."
She locked her phone.
She couldn't do this today.
Later that afternoon, Amara decided to leave the house. She needed fresh air. She needed noise. She needed people—to distract her from her thoughts.
She went to a small café near Yaba, ordered a cold smoothie, and sat beside the window. Cars honked. People moved with purpose. The world went on, even when her heart felt paused.
She sipped her drink, forcing herself to breathe in slowly.
She was halfway through scrolling Instagram mindlessly when someone pulled out the chair across from her.
Her heart skipped.
For a second, she thought it was Dapo—but it wasn't.
It was Ifeanyi, her old friend from university.
"Amara?"
She blinked. "Ifeanyi? Wow. It's been ages."
He smiled—a calm, warm smile that softened something inside her. "I saw you through the window. You looked… lost."
She gave a tiny laugh. "Is it that obvious?"
"Kinda," he said gently. "But don't worry, lost looks good on you."
She rolled her eyes, but a small real smile tugged at her lips. "You and your smooth lines."
He grinned. "I try."
They talked for a while—soft, easy conversation that reminded her what comfortable company felt like. No tension. No fear of saying something wrong. No secrets hiding behind a smile.
Just two people catching up.
And for the first time in days, she felt her chest loosen.
At one point, he hesitated, studying her face carefully. "Are you okay though? You look… hurt. And not the normal tired-hurt. The deep kind."
Her breath caught.
She didn't want to talk about it.
But she also didn't want to lie.
"I'm… going through something," she admitted.
He didn't ask for details. He didn't push. He just nodded. "You'll be fine. You've always been stronger than you think."
She looked down at her hands. "Sometimes strength feels like loneliness."
"Maybe," he said softly. "But strength also means you'll survive this."
Something warm spread through her chest.
They talked for almost two hours, and before he left, he touched her hand gently.
"Whatever you're dealing with… don't let it break you."
She nodded, grateful in a way she didn't have words for.
That evening, when she returned home, another message from Dapo waited on her screen.
Dapo: "I'm sorry. For everything. I don't expect forgiveness immediately, but I want to explain properly."
For a few seconds, Amara didn't move.
Her feelings twisted.
Anger.
Love.
Pain.
Fear.
Confusion.
She sat on her bed, hugging her knees.
She thought about Dapo—the way he held her, spoke to her, looked at her like she was the only girl in the room… until he didn't.
She thought about the messages.
The laughter he shared with Teni.
The way he had called her "friend" like their entire relationship meant nothing.
Yet part of her still wondered…
Why?
What went wrong?
Was she not enough?
Her phone buzzed again.
Dapo: "Please, Amara. Let me see you."
Her throat tightened.
She typed a reply, paused, erased it, typed again, erased again.
Her heart and her head were at war.
Finally, she sent:
"Not today. Maybe soon."
His reply came instantly.
"I'll wait. No matter how long."
She turned off her phone and lay down.
The silence of her room wrapped around her like a blanket, and for the first time since the heartbreak began, she whispered to herself:
"I deserve better."
Her heart didn't fully believe it yet…
but it was a start.