Retrouvailles

Everyone tells you about the airport. Nobody tells you about the Tuesday.

The airport was exactly as advertised. Tolu had cried in the arrivals hall in front of a hundred strangers and had not cared, and Dami had held on to her so hard that a rib had complained for two days afterwards, and they had said each other's names several times for no reason, as if checking.

Then there was the taxi, in which they had held hands and grinned at each other like fools, and the first night, which was its own country.