Kojo was gone.
And for the first time in a long while, Akutu felt alone.
Not lonely—just alone.
There was a difference.
At first, she tried to keep things the same.
She still went to their usual study spot, still kept her phone close, waiting for a message or a call.
And Kojo did call. Every night, without fail.
They talked about his internship, the projects he was working on, the overwhelming city life in Accra.
She told him about campus, her courses, and the small things he was missing—like how the cafeteria had finally changed their menu, or how Professor Boadi had shown up to class twenty minutes late and still acted like he was early.
It felt normal.
Almost.
But there were gaps.
Pauses in their conversations that hadn't been there before.
Moments when Akutu wanted to say something but held back, unsure if it even mattered anymore.
And then, one evening, Kojo didn't call.
At first, she told herself it wasn't a big deal.
Maybe he was busy. Maybe his phone battery had died.
But when she woke up the next morning and still hadn't heard from him, something inside her shifted.
Not anger.
Not even disappointment.
Just realization.
She couldn't keep waiting.
She had to start living for herself.
That week, she did something she hadn't done in a while.
She went out—alone.
She sat in the library for hours, lost in books.
She took long walks across campus, watching people, observing life in a way she had never done before.
She even joined a new student group, something she had always wanted to do but never had time for.
And slowly, something changed.
She stopped checking her phone every few minutes.
Stopped waiting for things to feel the same.
Stopped depending on Kojo's presence to make life feel full.
Because maybe—just maybe—she was enough on her own.
The pulleys of life had shifted once again.