Chapter 7: Rain, Regret, and the Same Old Circle

Until one year later.

The day rain fall sotay everywhere flood, na that day Ngozi show for my hostel, eyes red like fire.

Ngozi come meet me, dey cry. "Tunde, I break up with am."

She no wait make I ask. Tears just dey fall, her hair scatter, face swell. My heart soft for her, even after all.

"Wetin happen?" I ask.

I close door, give am chair, bring handkerchief. I dey ready to hear gist.

"He say he no like me again. He don tire for me. Before, when we never start, e dey curious. Now, e say he no love me..."

She talk am with pain. Her voice dey tremble, her hand dey twist handkerchief. I just dey look her, dey wonder how love fit spoil quick like tomato for sun.

I no know how to pet her.

My mind dey blank, but I just dey pray make she fit heal. Sometimes, words no dey enough.

After long silence, I talk, "No cry. If you want, I go carry you go chop, no wahala."

I dey try lift her spirit, make she no drown inside her tears.

Ngozi nod, tears still dey her face.

I reach for tissue, pass give her. She clean her eyes, manage small smile. "Thank you, Tunde."

That night, she chop scatter—her belle round like drum.

She order food like say she dey use am fill empty heart. I just dey watch, dey joke small, dey try lighten the mood.

She drink join.

As she pour wine, I dey monitor am. I no want make wahala repeat.

"Ngozi, abeg, stop to drink. Make we dey go house." I collect wine from her hand.

My voice gentle, but I dey serious. I no want see old drama again.

She vex small, then sharply hold my face, kiss me. "Tunde, you too good... If... if only Femi be you, or you be Femi, e for sweet die..."

Her lips soft for my face, but my mind dey spin. The pain rush back, mix with small shame. I just freeze, no talk.

Her move shock me, and I no know why, but guilt catch me.

I dey reason say maybe I too dey soft. Maybe I suppose dey hard for her, but I no fit change who I be.

After I drop Ngozi for her lodge, I go bar drink alone.

The beer bitter for my tongue, like bitterleaf soup wey no get enough salt. My mind dey replay everything. I just dey look the TV, no even know wetin dem dey show.

I know say I still like Ngozi.

Some love dey stubborn, e dey refuse to die, even when e suppose.

Even though I no know her finish.

Even after all the years, I still dey wonder who she be, which version of Ngozi dey real.

Even though she no love me.

Na the hard truth wey I gats swallow. Sometimes, love dey move one side. No be every river get bridge.

After that night, me and Ngozi dey talk more.

She begin dey send me message, dey ask how my day go. Sometimes she go send voice note, dey laugh, dey try play catch-up.

She go ask me my likes, where I dey go, even dey check if I dey follow any babe.

I dey reason say maybe she dey try start again. But my mind dey warn me, make I shine eye.

"You no like Femi again?"

I ask am one day as we dey gist for phone. I no wan hear lie.

One day, I catch Ngozi hide for crowd, dey follow me, so I ask her direct.

That day, I dey walk for campus, dey greet people. I just notice say somebody dey trail me. As I turn, na Ngozi I see, her face shy, but she still dey peep my movement like say na police work she dey do. I just laugh, but my mind dey shine torch—no be today wahala start. I no fit fall anyhow again.