I had waited so long for this night, the masked party Amaka wouldn’t stop talking about. It wasn’t the usual Lagos hangout; it was something different, classy, and mysterious. It was the type of party where nobody knew who you were unless you wanted them to. No names. Just vibes.

I wore a deep red satin dress with a slit that flirted with my thigh every time I moved. My black lace mask sat perfectly on my face, giving just enough mystery to keep people guessing. I wasn’t there to meet anyone. I just wanted to enjoy the thrill of it all: the lights, the music, the anonymity.

But then I saw him.

He stood across the room in a fitted black shirt and a sleek black mask that appeared to have been custom-made for his face. He had a stillness about him as if he was confident without even trying. Our eyes locked. I should have looked away, but I didn’t.

 

He walked over, slow and sure.

“Hi,” he said, his voice deep and familiar.

“Hi,” I replied, already smiling.

We got drinks and found ourselves side by side at the edge of the room. We didn’t talk much. Just light conversation, little touches, soft laughter. There was this pull, unspoken but strong. The kind that makes your body feel like it’s leaning in even when you’re trying to stay composed.

We danced. Close. His hands were on my waist. Mine resting on his chest, and it was like electricity passed through me.

Eventually, we left the crowd and went upstairs to a quiet lounge with velvet chairs and golden lights. It was empty. Just us and the silence.

Without a word, we both reached for our masks slowly. It felt like a mutual decision, like we both needed to see. And the moment his mask dropped, my breath caught in my throat.

It was Tobi.

My ex.

We said each other’s names at the same time.

“Tobi…”

“Zara…”

He stared at me, shocked. “I just knew there was something about you,” he said softly, his eyes not leaving mine. “The pull… it was too good to be true.”

I let out a small laugh, nervous and surprised. “This is crazy.”

“Is it?” he asked, stepping closer. “Or is this exactly how it was supposed to happen?”

My heart was racing. I could still remember how we ended: messy, painful, full of unsaid words. But at that moment, all I could feel was the way he was looking at me. Like he never stopped.

“I miss you,” he whispered.

That did it.

The kiss came fast. No hesitation. His lips crashed into mine, and suddenly, we were tangled up on the couch like no time had passed. His hands knew my body like a map he’d memorised. My nails dug into his back, pulling him closer, harder.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was raw. Urgent. That kind of sex you have with someone you’ve missed for too long. Like your body wants to make up for every second apart. We moved together like we remembered each other’s rhythm. The moans, the gasps, the way he kept saying my name, it was everything.

When it was over, we lay there quietly, both catching our breath.

He turned to me, “So… what happens now?”

I looked at him, really looked at him. He was still the same—the same man who once had all of me and lost it.

I smiled faintly, fingers tracing lazy circles on his arm. “This doesn’t mean we get back together.”

He nodded slowly. “I know.”

“But I needed this,” I said. “To remember how it felt. To feel… seen.”

He didn’t say anything for a while. Just held my gaze.

“Maybe,” he whispered, “this was our goodbye… done right.”

I rested my head on his chest and allowed the silence to speak for me.

And when I finally stood up to leave, I didn’t look back.

Downtown
+ posts