Lagos, Nigeria – Tuesday Morning
The Lagos sun blazed with familiar intensity, casting golden light over the waking city. Hawkers were already shouting in the distance, trying to outsell each other before the day truly began. Danfo buses honked relentlessly as they zigzagged between lanes, and pedestrians weaved through traffic like water slipping through cracks.
Amaka Udeh stood at the BRT terminal in Victoria Island, watching the city breathe. The breeze blew through her shoulder-length braids as she adjusted the strap of her tote bag and stepped forward. Her low heels clicked smartly against the polished pavement as she made her way toward the massive glass building ahead.
She looked sharp. A tailored grey suit hugged her figure just right, giving her the professional edge she had spent the last five years perfecting. Underneath it, a crisp white blouse added elegance, and her subtle makeup brought out the soft brown tones of her eyes.
Still, beneath all that poise, her heart thudded with uncertainty.
Five years. That was how long she had been gone from Nigeria. Five years since she left behind memories, mistakes, and one heartbreak that had changed everything.
Ghana had offered her space to heal. She had thrown herself into work, climbing from intern to strategy lead in just under three years. People admired her drive. Her mind was sharp, her presentations compelling, and her results undeniable. But no one knew what had fueled her rise.
It was not ambition. Not entirely.
It was pain.
Pain she had buried deep. Pain that bore one name.
Chuka.
She took a deep breath, trying to push the thought out of her mind.
Today was important.
Her new firm in Lagos, Bright Ideas Agency, had just secured a contract with one of the country's top tech companies. They were trusting her with this client's entire brand overhaul. A chance like this could make or break her return. She could not afford to be distracted.
She glanced at her phone screen again.
"OkoyeTech Group Headquarters, Victoria Island. Please report by 9:30 a.m. You will be working directly with the CEO on all project briefings."
Her stomach fluttered slightly at the mention of the company name again.
OkoyeTech.
A common name, she reminded herself.
Okoye was as Nigerian as rice and stew.
Still, her fingers gripped the phone tighter.
She had not allowed herself to Google the company leadership. She wanted to focus on the work and nothing else. She had not even imagined there might be a connection to him.
But now, standing in front of the glass tower with the silver letters "OKOYETECH GROUP" mounted on the wall, she hesitated.
Her legs wanted to move forward, but her heart whispered that something was not quite right.
Shaking off the tension, she walked in.
The lobby was a mix of modern elegance and intimidating grandeur. Marble floors, glass sculptures, and a massive wall-mounted screen showed rotating slides of their latest innovations in software, AI, and smart technology. A security guard waved her through after checking her appointment details.
She approached the receptionist, a polished young woman in a navy blue dress who looked like she stepped out of a corporate style magazine.
"Good morning," Amaka said with a confident smile. "I am Amaka Udeh from Bright Ideas Agency. I am here for the branding strategy meeting."
The receptionist glanced at her screen and nodded.
"Yes, ma'am. You are right on time. The CEO is expecting you. You can head straight into the boardroom. Last door on the right, fifteenth floor."
Amaka gave a courteous nod and made her way to the elevators. As the doors closed, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirrored wall. She looked every inch the woman she had fought to become composed, successful, untouchable.
The elevator dinged softly on the fifteenth floor.
She stepped out into a hallway lined with tall glass windows and tasteful artwork. Everything about this place screamed wealth, structure, and power.
When she opened the boardroom door, her breath caught in her throat.
The room was massive. The far wall was entirely glass, offering a panoramic view of Lagos that stretched across rooftops and highways, all the way to the coast. A long conference table sat in the middle, surrounded by leather chairs. On one side, a digital screen displayed the words "Welcome Bright Ideas."
Impressive.
Amaka walked in slowly, setting her bag gently on the table as she glanced around. A tray of bottled water and snacks sat on a side table. The air conditioner hummed in the background, giving the room an almost surreal quiet.
She had about two minutes before the meeting started.
She turned toward the window and let her eyes rest on the skyline.
She remembered the girl she used to be in this city — wide-eyed, deeply in love, full of faith that love and dreams could coexist. That girl had trusted too easily.
She had believed that no matter what happened, love would always be enough.
But reality had crushed that belief like glass underfoot.
A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She turned just as it opened.
And then time stopped.
There he was.
Chuka Okoye.
In the flesh.
Wearing a dark navy suit, a pale blue shirt open at the collar, no tie. His beard was fuller now, neatly groomed. His eyes, those eyes she used to memorize when words failed, locked onto hers with unmistakable shock.
Her breath caught in her chest.
So it was him.
Chuka was the CEO.
He stood frozen in the doorway for a moment, the air between them thick with unspoken memories.
"Amaka," he said softly.
She blinked, her face stiffening into a neutral expression.
"Mr Okoye," she replied coldly.
He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him, still looking at her like he could not believe she was real.
"I did not know you were the strategist Bright Ideas assigned to us," he said, voice calm but quiet.
"I was not informed that the client was you either," she responded.
The silence stretched.
Neither of them moved.
Chuka walked around the table slowly and took a seat. Amaka remained standing, determined to stay professional, even if her insides were twisting.
Five years had changed them both.
The last time she saw him, he had been a final year engineering student with stars in his eyes and ambition in his bones. He had won a scholarship to study abroad and had taken it without hesitation. He had promised to call, to write, to stay. But he had vanished instead.
And now here he was. A CEO. A man. Sitting across from her like the past never happened.
"I suppose we should begin," she said coolly.
"Yes," he nodded. "We should."
Amaka opened her laptop and connected to the projector screen. She moved through the introductory slides, laying out the goals of the branding campaign, the projected impact, and key timelines. Her voice never wavered, her hand never shook.
But inside, it was chaos.
Every time she looked up, he was watching her. Not with arrogance, not with superiority — but with something else. Something heavier. Something like regret.
She hated that her body still responded. That her heart still recognized him. That despite everything, part of her wanted answers.
The meeting lasted forty minutes.
He asked questions. She answered.
They spoke like strangers.
But underneath it all was history. A shared ache that neither of them dared to touch.
When it was over, she packed up quickly.
He stood too.
"Amaka," he said softly.
She paused, turning slowly.
"Can we talk? Outside of this?"
She gave him a long, unreadable look.
"About work?"
"No. About us."
"There is no us," she said, her voice flat. "Not anymore."
He did not argue. He just nodded.
"I understand. But if you ever change your mind… I never stopped regretting how I left."
She picked up her bag, steady as ever.
"Regret does not fix things, Chuka. Not five years later."
And with that, she walked out of the boardroom, heels echoing against the floor.
But once inside the elevator, alone, her shoulders finally dropped. Her hand trembled slightly as she pressed the button to the ground floor.
Her past had found her.
And no matter how far she had run, it had always been waiting.