Then reality returned.
Because reality always returns.
Around 9 p.m., rain began hammering against the windows.
Heavy Lagos rain.
The kind that floods roads within minutes.
Adanna checked her phone.
Then checked it again.
“The Third Mainland Bridge is already backed up.”
I looked outside.
The streets were disappearing beneath sheets of water.
“You shouldn’t drive in this.”
She hesitated.
“I can book a hotel.”
“You can stay here.”
Her eyes met mine.
Just for a second.
Then she nodded.
“Thank you.”
Eke was thrilled.
He insisted on helping prepare the couch.
Three blankets.
Four pillows.
One stuffed dinosaur for protection.
By ten-thirty he was asleep.
By eleven, the house was quiet.
I lay in my bedroom staring at the ceiling.
Listening to the rain.
Listening to the unfamiliar sound of Adanna breathing somewhere inside the same house again.
I hated how much comfort there was in that.
Eventually exhaustion won.
I drifted off.
Then sometime after midnight, I woke.
At first I wasn’t sure why.
The house was dark.
The rain had softened.
Then I heard voices.
Very faint.
Coming from the living room.
I sat up.
Adanna was speaking.
