The Echo That Lingers

Chapter 2: The Echo That Lingers

The bus rumbled beneath Tobi as it sped down the expressway, leaving behind the only home he had ever known. The city blurred past in streaks of neon lights and restless movement, but his mind was elsewhere.

Dayo.

His name clung to Tobi's thoughts like the last note of a song that refused to end. The way he had stood there last night—half in shadow, half in moonlight—felt like something out of a dream. But it wasn't a dream. It was real. And now, it was over.

Tobi exhaled and leaned his forehead against the window. He had promised himself he wouldn't look back, but Lagos had a way of following you, even when you thought you had outrun it.

A sharp turn jolted him from his thoughts. The woman beside him, a heavyset trader with baskets of groundnuts and plantain chips stacked at her feet, gave him a sideways glance.

"You dey okay?" she asked, her voice thick with concern.

Tobi forced a small smile. "Yes, ma. I'm fine."

She studied him for a moment longer before nodding and turning back to her bag of roasted peanuts.

Fine. He wasn't fine. But what could he say? I just left the only person who ever made me feel alive.

The bus continued its journey toward Ibadan, where he would be starting university. He had spent years dreaming about this—escaping home, being free, creating a new life where no one expected him to fit into a mold he could never belong to.

But now, the excitement had dulled.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. A single message flashed on the screen.

Dayo: Be safe.

Tobi's throat tightened. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. What was he supposed to say?

That he wished things were different? That he wanted to turn around and run back into his arms? That he was terrified of what came next?

Instead, he typed:

Tobi: You too.

He stared at the message for a long moment before pressing send.

A deep sigh escaped him as he leaned back, closing his eyes. The echoes of last night still clung to his skin, his heart, his bones. He could leave the city, he could leave Dayo, but he knew one thing for certain—

Some goodbyes never truly end.