Chapter 7: Dreams, dresses and distant goodbyes

The days that followed the proposal were nothing short of magic.

Zara's world became a whirlwind of lace fabrics, venue viewings, cake tastings, and color palette debates. But for once, it wasn't overwhelming. It was joyful. Purposeful. Each detail was laced with laughter and gentle teasing from Kene, who pretended not to care if the roses were ivory or blush—until he realized the wrong shade clashed with Zara's chosen suit color.

"Okay, maybe I *do* care," he admitted sheepishly as she held up a sample bouquet to his chest.

Zara laughed. "Told you. You've officially crossed into groom-zilla territory."

He grabbed her by the waist and kissed her forehead. "For you? I'll be a groom-unicorn if I have to."

Together, they planned a wedding that felt nothing like the opulence her father was used to. It was elegant, yes—but rooted in them. Personal. Intimate. Full of little touches that told their story.

Their honeymoon destination was still undecided. Zara wanted the Maldives. Kene leaned toward Greece. "I've always wanted to see the blue-roofed churches," he said once, while flipping through a travel brochure. "They remind me of hope."

She reached for his hand and smiled. "Then we'll go to Greece."

—

*Meanwhile, across town...*

Amaka stood by the window of her new apartment, a printed letter clutched in her hand.

Her name sat boldly at the top of the page, right beneath the crest of *Northwell NHS Trust, London*.

It was official.

She'd gotten the job.

The kind she used to whisper about when the lights were out and Kene was asleep. A prestigious hospital in the UK. A dream placement. A life-changing opportunity.

So why did her hands feel so cold?

She'd cried when the email came. Laughed, danced, called her brother, and screamed until the neighbors knocked. But now… standing alone, suitcase open on the bed, her stomach twisted with something heavier than excitement.

"I'm leaving everything behind," she whispered.

Home. Friends. Her brother.

Her anchor.

But dreams weren't supposed to be convenient. They were meant to stretch you.

Still… she wasn't ready for the ache of goodbye.

—

*Later that week*

Amaka invited her closest friends over for a farewell hangout. They wore matching robes, face masks, and sipped from wine glasses filled with zobo. Music played low in the background, and the apartment smelled of suya and hair cream.

"Tell me why you're still single," her friend Ifeoma said dramatically, licking chin-chin crumbs from her fingers. "A whole nurse! Employed! Going abroad! Still no man?"

The room erupted in laughter.

Amaka grinned. "Because men are distractions."

"Lai lai," Chinne teased. "Say the truth. It's Joel."

The laughter died instantly.

Amaka's smile faltered.

Chinne's face softened. "Sorry babe… I shouldn't have—"

"No," Amaka said, sitting up. "You're right. I never really talked about it."

The room grew quiet.

And Amaka… remembered.

—

*Flashback: University, Second Year*

Joel was everything a young girl dreamed of—smart, smooth, attentive. He made her laugh. Held her hand between lectures. Brought her food during night preps. He called her "his peace."

They were *the* couple in class. Envied. Adored.

Until the whispers started.

A girl in the Media department. Seen together. Too often.

Amaka didn't believe it.

"Joel would never," she told herself. "He loves me."

She never asked. Never accused.

Then—just a day before second semester exams—his text came:

*"I can't do this anymore. You're not everything I want. Don't call me."*

And just like that, it ended.

No warning.

No explanation.

When she tried to reach him, she found herself blocked.

She went to his off-campus apartment. She begged. Pleaded. Cried.

Joel opened the door, looked at her like she was a stranger, and said, "Don't ever come here again."

Then slammed the door.

Amaka stood there for hours.

And when she walked away, she carried her broken heart like a hidden wound.

—

*Back to the present*

"I didn't date again after Joel," Amaka said softly. "Not because I couldn't. But because something in me shut down."

Her voice was steady, but her eyes glistened.

"I focused on school. On my future. Because I realized I didn't want to need anyone."

The girls were quiet.

Then Amaka added with a small, genuine smile: "But I think I'm ready now. I'm not that girl anymore. My heart's healed."

Ifeoma clapped. "That's the energy, babe!"

"Abeg, make sure your future boo is tall and rich," Chinne laughed.

"Or just kind," Amaka said. "Kindness goes a long way."

They raised their glasses. "To love. And second chances."

They clinked zobo glasses and fell into laughter again.

But somewhere deep inside Amaka, a door had reopened.

And the future… no longer felt so lonely.

—

---

*Chapter 7 (Part 2): Countdown to Forever*

The next two weeks moved fast.

Faster than Zara wanted. Faster than Kene could process.

Guest lists were finalized. Aso-ebi colors selected. Zara's dress had finally arrived—an elegant, off-shoulder ball gown with lace detailing that flowed like whispered poetry. Her veil, soft and delicate, shimmered like morning dew. It wasn't just a wedding outfit—it was a dream stitched in fabric.

"You look like a queen," her mother had said, holding back tears.

Kene's suit was custom-made. Midnight blue. Classic. Fitted. With subtle gold embroidery on the collar—Zara's idea. He wore it for his final fitting and couldn't stop staring in the mirror.

"You clean up well, sir," Zara had teased.

Kene smiled. "Just trying to match the beauty beside me."

***

Meanwhile, Amaka prepared for the move of a lifetime.

Her UK visa had come through. The flight was in ten days.

Her new flat was already paid for, hospital orientation scheduled. But each time she packed a box, something clenched in her chest.

She sat on her bed one evening, laptop open, watching YouTube videos of London street food. Then her phone rang—Zara.

"Girl, are you okay?" Zara asked.

"I don't know," Amaka admitted.

"You should be happy."

"I am. But also… scared. Lost."

Zara paused. "That's normal. But you'll thrive. You always do."

Amaka closed her eyes. "I'll miss home."

"You'll carry home with you," Zara said gently. "And we'll always be here."

They stayed on the phone for over an hour—talking, laughing, crying.

***

*The Eve Before the Wedding*

The rehearsal dinner was held at a candlelit rooftop restaurant overlooking the city.

Friends and family gathered, sharing memories and dreams. Mr. Adebayo gave a heartfelt toast—his second chance as a father now sealed in love.

"I once tried to break this," he admitted, raising his glass. "But love… real love, always finds a way."

Zara squeezed Kene's hand under the table.

Later that night, as they stood alone outside, looking at the stars, Kene whispered, "I never imagined this life."

Zara leaned into him. "That's the thing about fate—it never asks for permission."

***

*The Twist*

Three days before Amaka's flight, she received an unexpected text.

Unknown Number: *"Hi Amaka. It's Joel. I heard about your graduation. Can we talk?"*

Amaka froze.

Heart in her throat.

She stared at the message for ten minutes… then locked her phone.

"No," she whispered to herself. "Not this time."

Some doors should stay shut.

***

Back at the wedding prep, Zara and Kene sat in the garden, candles glowing, list in hand.

"Are you nervous?" she asked.

"Terrified," Kene said honestly.

"Me too."

They smiled.

Then he leaned closer. "But there's no one else I'd rather be terrified with."

They kissed softly—slow and sure.

Love, even when trembling, still stands tall.

—