The last time Amara saw Daniel, it had rained.
Not the gentle kind of rain that made people stay indoors, but the heavy Lagos downpour that flooded streets and washed everything clean. She remembered standing by her window that evening, watching water drip from the rooftops, wondering why her chest felt so heavy.
Then her phone rang.
It was him.
"I'm outside," he said.
Her heart raced. "Outside where?"
"Your place."
She rushed to the door, and there he was, soaked, breathless, and looking at her like she was the only person that mattered. Water dripped from his hair, sliding down his jaw. His shirt clung to his body, and yet he didn't seem to care.
"Daniel… you'll get sick," she said, stepping aside to let him in.
But he didn't move.
Instead, he just stared at her.
"I missed you," he whispered.
Her heart melted instantly. It always did.
"You saw me two days ago," she said softly.
"I know… but it feels like forever when I'm not with you."
Those words had kept her awake for weeks.
She remembered making him tea, handing him a towel, watching him sit on her couch like he belonged there. They talked about everything , work, life, random jokes , but not the one thing she desperately wanted to discuss.
Them.
The unspoken space between them was always there. Too close to ignore, too undefined to name.
At some point, the lights went out , typical power outage. The room fell into darkness, and the only sound was the rain beating against the windows.
Daniel reached for her hand.
She didn't pull away.
They sat like that, fingers intertwined, hearts racing. She was sure he would finally say it.
Finally define what they were.
Finally claim her.
"Ama…" he started.
"Yes?" she whispered.
He hesitated.
Then he sighed.
"Take care of yourself."
That was it.
Her heart dropped.
She waited for more , for stay, for I love you, for don't leave me. But nothing came.
So she smiled weakly, pulled her hand away, and stood up.
"You should go before the rain gets worse."
He nodded slowly, like he knew he was losing something.
At the door, he turned back.
"I don't want to lose you."
She swallowed. "Then don't."
He opened his mouth… then closed it again.
And that was the moment she knew.
He wouldn't choose her.
Not really.
So she walked away.
Now, standing in her apartment months later, holding his wedding invitation, Amara felt the same ache return.
Her phone buzzed again.
Daniel: Are you okay?
She stared at the message.
Funny.
He always asked if she was okay, but he was the reason she wasn't.
She typed slowly.
Amara: I'm fine.
Three dots appeared immediately.
Daniel: I meant it when I said we need to talk.
Her chest tightened.
Talk about what?
The past?
The feelings he never admitted?
Or the future he already chose with someone else?
She dropped the phone on the bed and covered her face.
"No," she whispered to herself. "I won't do this again."
But deep down… she knew.
Seeing him again would change everything.
And maybe… break her all over again.