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Chapter 10 - When the Past Starts Knocking

It starts with a DM.

From *Damilola.*

Out of nowhere.

*"Saw your open mic clip. You're glowing, Ayanna. Just wanted to say… I miss you."*

The message sits in my inbox like a ghost.

Not violent.

But present.

Uninvited.

I stare at it for hours.

I don't reply.

But the old ache returns.

Not for *him* exactly.

But for the version of me who once believed his love was safe.

---

Later that evening, I find Tari in the studio, dancing alone again—slow, like his body is dragging grief with every step.

He sees me.

Smiles.

But it's one of those tired smiles—the ones you wear when you're trying not to unravel.

"I got a message from Damilola," I say.

His body freezes mid-step.

"You gonna reply?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want to?"

I don't answer.

Because I don't know.

---

That night, lying in bed, I reread Damilola's message.

Twice.

Then I do something dangerous:

I click *his profile.*

He's still him. Too smooth. Too curated.

Perfect hair. Perfect smile.

Fake apologies and spiritual quotes he probably doesn't even live by.

I close the app.

Delete the message.

And write a poem instead.

---

*Poem: "For the Boy Who Wanted a Poem but Not the Poet"*

*You called me magic,

but only when the lights were off.

You said I was deep,

but swam in my skin and never my soul.

Now you miss me?

Maybe next time you'll learn—

love doesn't grow in silence.

And I stopped blooming for ghosts.*

---

The next day, I give Tari the poem.

No explanation.

He reads it twice.

Then holds my hand across the cafeteria table.

He doesn't say anything.

He doesn't have to.

---

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