Meanwhile, the days to Bisola's wedding drew closer. Temilade had finally completed
Bisola's wedding dress and delivered it to her. The bride was thrilled, gushing about how
perfect it was.
Temilade had also completed Opeyemi's dress and her own outfit for the occasion. She sent
Opeyemi's dress to her shop, and when Opeyemi asked how much she owed her, Temilade
simply smiled.
Temilade: "Just buy me a drink to hold body. I know your situation, and I don't want to stress
you."
Opeyemi was deeply touched.
Opeyemi: "Thank you, Temi. You're a true friend. God bless you."
The day before the wedding, Temilade packed her dress and essentials and headed to
Bisola's house for the bridal night. The air was filled with excitement and chatter as the
bride's friends gathered to make final preparations. Temilade couldn't help but feel a little
wistful. Watching Bisola's joy made her think about her own life and whether she'd ever
experience such happiness.
As the night went on, she decided to shake off her thoughts and immerse herself in the
celebration. This was Bisola's moment, and she was determined to be there for her friend in
every way possible.
At Bisola's bridal night, the lively chatter and laughter of friends filled the air. Out of the eight
friends present, five were married, and they proudly flaunted their wedding rings. The sight
made Temilade's heartache just a little.
She wasn't old, and she knew that, but the deep yearning for marriage had been creeping
into her thoughts lately. Watching her friends talk about their husbands and share little
anecdotes from their married lives brought both admiration and envy. She longed to
experience that companionship, that sense of belonging.
As the conversations continued, her mind wandered to her own life. She couldn't help but
think about her ex. If he hadn't broken up with her, she might have been married by now,
enjoying the happiness her friends seemed to have. Despite the passage of time, the
heartbreak still lingered, though she did her best to hide it.
Sure, men had asked her out since then, but none of them had managed to capture her
interest. That is, until the man in the car.
She found herself thinking about him far more than she wanted to admit. His eyes, the way
he had stared at her—it was as if he had seen right through her. There was something about
him that had left a mark on her, though she hated to admit it.
Why didn't he talk to me? she thought for the hundredth time. Why didn't he ask for my
number?
Then, a more troubling thought entered her mind. Maybe he's married. The idea made her
stomach churn. If he were married, why had he been staring at her like that? What was the
point?
She sighed, shaking her head to rid herself of the thoughts. Her friends were joking about
wedding traditions now, and she tried to join in, laughing at their stories. But her heart wasn't
fully in it.
She resolved to focus on her own happiness. If fate wanted her to meet the man in the car
again, it would happen. Until then, she had to let go of the what-ifs and focus on the present.
After all, tomorrow was a big day for Bisola, and Temilade wanted to make sure her friend felt nothing but joy.
For now, her dreams of marriage could wait.
Olatunji stepped out of the Lagos airport, his carry-on bag slung over his shoulder, and
breathed in the vibrant energy of the city. He hailed a cab to Michael's house, the groom's
place, where the pre-wedding celebrations were already underway.
When he arrived, he was greeted warmly by Michael and a group of his friends. The living
room was buzzing with laughter and conversation, bottles of wine and beer scattered across
the center table. Olatunji quickly bonded with the group, their camaraderie flowing as if
they'd known each other for years.
"Michael, tomorrow is the big day, bro," one friend said, patting him on the back.
"Yeah," another chimed in. "No more girls now—focus on your wife!"
The group erupted into laughter, and Michael grinned sheepishly. "Don't worry, I'm ready for
this," he said, confidence gleaming in his eyes.
The next morning, the venue was a sight to behold. A sprawling hall decorated in gold and
white exuded elegance. Beautiful floral arrangements adorned every corner, with crystal
chandeliers casting a warm glow over the space. Tables were set with fine china, gold-plated
cutlery, and elaborate centerpieces of white roses and lilies.
The bride's family had gone all out to make the occasion memorable. Outside, traditional
drummers welcomed guests with rhythmic beats, while ushers in matching aso ebi guided
attendees to their seats.
The bride, Bisola, was a vision in a dazzling white gown that sparkled with every step she
took. Her makeup was flawless, her smile radiant, and her bridal train flowed like a river of
silk behind her. The groom, Michael, stood at the altar in a tailored navy-blue tuxedo, his
face glowing with love and anticipation.
The ceremony began with traditional rites, where the groom and his friends had to kneel
before the bride's family to formally seek their blessing. They were instructed to perform
small tasks, like presenting gifts and delivering well-rehearsed lines of respect. Laughter
erupted when one of Michael's friends stumbled through a phrase in Yoruba, earning him
playful jeers from the bride's relatives.
Next came the church service. The choir's harmonious voices filled the hall, singing hymns
that stirred the hearts of everyone present. The officiating pastor gave a heartfelt sermon on
the sanctity of marriage, and the vows exchanged between Michael and Bisola brought many guests to tears.
"By the power vested in me," the pastor announced with a triumphant smile, "I now
pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
The hall erupted in cheers and applause as Michael lifted Bisola's veil and kissed her gently.
The DJ switched gears, blasting lively music that got everyone on their feet
The reception was equally grand. Platters of jollof rice, fried rice, peppered chicken, assorted
meats, and small chops were served, along with chilled drinks. Guests danced to the
energetic beats of popular Afrobeat tracks, while the MC kept the crowd entertained with
jokes and engaging activities.
As the couple cut their wedding cake—a towering masterpiece of white and gold
tiers—Olatunji found himself scanning the crowd, and his heart skipped a beat.