Ola was pensive. It was the most notable thing about him, and I picked up on his nervousness the second I stepped foot in Genesis. It wasn't difficult to spot him, as I knew every single one of his features by heart. His very light skin, bushy afro, scruffy beard, the way he always towered above everyone else whenever he was in a room, even while seated; it was quite easy to spot him.

I walked into the glass doors filled with nervous energy, but seeing him so agitated, I felt strangely less afraid, because I knew I wasn't the only one wondering how we'd go about this, considering the amount of time that had passed since we saw in person or even had a decent conversation.

So despite how I was feeling, I crossed the distance over to him, heart in my throat, beating fiercely. He spotted me almost immediately, standing as I approached him. The look on his face portrayed someone who was hesitant, trying to decipher what I expected of him from my facial expression. After a few slightly awkward moments, he decided to hug me, and I returned it with full zest, melting into his embrace.

The petty quarrel we had before the attempt seemed so insignificant in comparison to all that had happened afterwards, and I really didn't have it in my heart to hold everything against him.

I sat across the table from him, daring to meet his nervous gaze with my tender one.

"How are you?" He asked, breaking the silence.

"I'm okay, you?"

"I'm good. It's been a while. You look– you look really good." He complimented, clearing his throat.

"Eh well, I've been better. You don't look so bad yourself." I returned.

"Thank you. First off, I just want to say I'm sorry. Seriously it wasn't cool how I treated you, regarding your relationship with Jake. I'm so sorry." He said, looking ashamed.

"That's okay," I replied, "you don't have to be. You were right, we weren't good for each other."

"It doesn't matter if I was right. I should have been supportive. Instead I just... Added to the stress you must have been under.

"I should have been a friend to you, regardless of whether I supported your relationship or not. I failed in that, and it's on me. You might not say it, but I know I was one of the reasons you... All I'm saying is, I know I was wrong. I don't think I can make up for it, but I'd like to try." He finished, clearing his throat. His eyes looked glassy, faraway, and I instantly knew he had travelled back to that dreadful night.

It came as a surprise to me that just weeks ago I'd thought there was absolutely no reason to keep going on, but now, now I felt sorry that I'd actually gone through with it a year ago. Now I was starting to see things in a different light, and a feeling I hadn't felt in a while seized me– gratitude; for having a second chance at a better life, and a better perspective.

"It's okay. We can't change the past, but I'm sure we can do something about the future." I replied, placing my hand over his.

I realised that inasmuch as my family and friends had been absorbed in their lives, not taking note of me, I had also been absorbed in mine, not realising that their temporary disconnect from me had nothing to do with them not loving me. They cared, I just couldn't really see it.

And I was starting to.

"It's going to be different this time." I added, partly to Ola, mostly to myself.

---

My time with Ola went better than I could ever have expected. At first I couldn't imagine bridging the distance that I thought time must've placed between us, but we just fell into place like we used to be months before we had the quarrel that separated us.

I was grateful for the day. And by the time I parked back in my house, spent, yet happy, I knew I had made the right choice by choosing to reconnect.

It was three minutes past five, and my mother hadn't returned. I took the liberty of preparing her dinner. I realised I had basically left all the cleaning, housekeeping, cooking, to her during the past year and the months before. It hit me, just how selfish I was; how selfish I had become.

And I felt guilty. I wondered how strong she must have been, she never snapped at me. And save for the odd show of impatience, I realised, she never complained about having to do it all by herself. Even when my stepfather was still alive and living with us, he didn't care for assisting his wife with chores. She did it all alone. And I was going through so much pain, I still had a lot of wounds to heal from, but for the first time I was thinking about someone other than myself.

I wondered if my mother was doing okay.

Instead of dwelling on the thought, I searched the fridge for whatever I could use to throw together a nice dinner for the both of us, and I didn't have to worry much. My mother kept the fridge fully stocked, and thus I had a lot to work with.

I made a simple dish of egusi soup and put some water in a kettle to use for Eba pending my mother's arrival, and then retreated to the comfort of my room, bringing my phone out to go through the screenshots of fashion schools that I had researched earlier.

After minutes of mindless scrolling, I turned on my WiFi and proceeded to browse the internet. I noticed my Instagram following had increased, which was unusual, considering I hadn't posted anything in over a year. I still had hundreds of WhatsApp texts to reply to, from old friends and acquaintances. The mere thought gave me the beginnings of a panic attack and I tried my best to put them out of my mind.

A message caught my gaze however, from Ola. It was a photo and I clicked on it directly from my notification board. On loading, I saw a picture of myself, one that was taken unawares, obviously. And I guess that was the beauty in it, I felt like I had been punched.

Sat across from him at  the ice cream booth at Genesis, my hair was a bit scattered from how I'd relaxed during the movie we decided to see, my eyes were bright with excitement from whatever story I was telling him. I noticed how my dark skin was accentuated as my surroundings had been  blurred out. Wide, light brown eyes, plump lips parted in a smile, I looked beautiful. There was a half-eaten ice cream bowl next to my bracelet clad hand, one of the hands that held my wars.

There was a certain spark about me in the picture, I couldn't help but smile.

Thank you, I texted him, retaining the smile. I couldn't quite take my eyes away from the picture, as it held a few moments where I'd completely forgotten everything that was going on, completely immersed in my best friend's company.

I was immensely grateful that he took it.

You're welcome, he texted back, and I smiled even though I knew he wouldn't see it.

I went back to my Instagram page, erasing my previous posts and posting the picture Ola sent, pausing for a second to think about my caption.

And then it hit me.

Reset.
22.01.2018

The front door being pushed open alerted me of my mother's arrival, and I rushed down to greet her, feeling a new sense of determination. Maybe, eventually, I could start to rebuild myself.  Either way, I knew that although I might have been broken, I wasn't alone.

--

A/N

I hope the time it took to update this was worth it! Thank you all so much for reading and sticking through with Amina's journey. It's awesome to know you're not alone, isn't it?

Tell me what you think!
-Rhys