The Girl in the Cream Dress

The first thing Tosan noticed was her eyes.

Not because they were unusually beautiful.

Not because she was looking at him.

Because for one strange second, they felt familiar.

The feeling was so sudden that he stopped walking.

“Tosan!”

He turned.

Folarin was waving from across the decorated garden where the engagement celebration was taking place.

Guests filled the venue. Soft music floated through the evening air. Waiters moved between tables carrying trays of small chops and drinks. Strings of warm lights hung above the crowd, giving everything a golden glow.

“You’ve been standing there like NEPA just brought your light back after three days,” Folarin said as Tosan approached.

Tosan laughed.

“You’re not serious.”

“I’m serious. What are you looking at?”

Tosan glanced toward the stage area again.

A young woman in a cream dress was helping arrange gift boxes beside the celebrant’s family.

Nothing dramatic about her appearance.

No loud fashion.

No desperate attempt to attract attention.

Yet somehow she stood out.

As if she felt his gaze, she looked up.

Their eyes met.

Again.

That strange feeling returned.

Brief.

Unsettling.

Gone before he could understand it.

“Who is she?” Tosan asked.

Folarin followed his gaze.

A slow grin appeared.

“So your eyes are working.”

“Folarin.”

“What?”

“Who is she?”

“Amire.”

“Tall Amire? Short Amire? Which Amire?”

“There are many Amires in Lagos?”

Tosan shook his head.

“Forget it.”

But he didn’t.

Not even for a second.

An hour later, guests were taking photographs near the decorated backdrop.

Tosan found himself drifting toward the same area.

Not intentionally.

At least that was what he told himself.

He was helping one of the event planners move chairs when someone accidentally stepped into him.

A glass slipped from his hand.

Before it could hit the floor, another hand caught it.

Tosan looked up.

Amire.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then she raised the glass slightly.

“You should thank me.”

Tosan smiled.

“For saving the glass?”

“For saving your reputation.”

“That’s fair.”

She handed it back.

Their fingers brushed briefly.

A simple moment.

Yet something about it felt strangely significant.

“You’ve been looking at me all evening,” Amire said.

Tosan nearly laughed.

“I have not.”

“You have.”

“I was observing.”

Her eyebrow lifted.

“Observing?”

“That sounded better in my head.”

She laughed.

The sound caught him off guard.

Natural.

Unforced.

The kind of laugh that made other people relax.

“I’m Tosan.”

“I know.”

His eyes narrowed.

“You know?”

“Your friend introduced you during the opening prayer.”

Tosan groaned.

“So I’ve been exposed already.”

“Completely.”

They both laughed.

The conversation should have ended there.

Instead, it continued.

One topic became another.

Work.

Family.

Lagos traffic.

Terrible drivers.

Childhood memories.

Before either of them realized it, nearly thirty minutes had passed.

The event was ending when Amire picked up her handbag.

“I should go.”

Tosan nodded.

“Yeah.”

A brief silence followed.

Then he spoke.

“Can I get your number?”

Amire smiled.

“You waited this long to ask?”

“I was trying to appear responsible.”

“How did that work out for you?”

“Not very well.”

She took his phone.

Entered her number.

Returned it.

“Now you can stop observing from a distance.”

Tosan laughed.

“I’ll try.”

Later that night, he sat alone in his car outside his apartment building.

The compound was quiet.

A generator hummed somewhere in the distance.

His phone lit up.

A new message.

Amire.

Hope you got home safely.

A smile appeared before he could stop it.

He typed a reply.

Then paused.

Because suddenly, without warning, something flashed through his mind.

A photograph.

Old.

Faded.

A pair of eyes.

The same eyes.

Tosan froze.

His fingers hovered above the screen.

The image vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Leaving only a feeling behind.

A feeling that made no sense.

He had met Amire only a few hours ago.

So why did it feel like part of him had known her for much longer?

To be continued…