“Get married,” she stated, sipping her juice as if she were discussing the weather. “I am a grown woman, Chaik. I know what I want, and I don’t believe in dating for ten years. If you want me, then show me with action.” That very night, Chaik called his event planner. The wedding preparations began in a frenzy of activity. Everything, he insisted, had to be flawless, extravagant, over-the-top. It was going to be the biggest, most talked-about wedding the city had seen in years. A red carpet, a Rolls Royce for the bridal party, a live band imported from Ghana, and guests flying in from Abuja and even Dubai. Chaik became utterly obsessed with making the wedding a spectacle. It wasn’t just for love, or even for Adaeze. It was to prove something—to his friends, to his doubting mother, to the entire world. He wanted everyone to see that he had not only moved on, but that his life was infinitely better without Ngozi in it. And deep down, in a hidden, bitter corner of his heart, a small, proud voice whispered that he wanted Ngozi herself to see it, too.
One afternoon, as he sat with the wedding planner, meticulously going over the extensive guest list, Chaik suddenly paused. “Add one more name,” he instructed.
“Who would you like to add, sir?” the planner asked.
He picked up a gold-plated pen and wrote the name himself in bold, clear letters: Ngozi Eze.
The planner raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Your ex-wife? Are you certain?”
Chaik didn’t offer any explanation. He simply smiled a cold, humorless smile. “Send her a personal, first-class invitation. I want her to be there. In the front row. I want her to have the best seat in the house.”
Meanwhile, Adaeze was busy planning her own side of the grand event with equal fervor. She had ordered her custom wedding gown from a renowned designer in Milan; the lace alone had cost more than a typical person’s car. Her bridesmaids were already rehearsing intricate dance routines. Her bridal shower was scheduled to be held at an exclusive beach resort. To the outside world, she was the picture of a glowing, happy bride-to-be. But behind the closed doors of her luxurious apartment, Adaeze was growing increasingly anxious. She had been secretly trying to get pregnant for months, hoping to surprise Chaik with the news. But every test she took came back negative. Every single one. She hadn’t yet found the courage to tell Chaik. She was afraid of his reaction. And her own mother’s worried voice kept echoing in her head: “My daughter, are you absolutely sure this man is not the one with the problem?”
Two weeks before the wedding was set to take place, Adaeze finally gathered the courage to broach the subject. They were lying together in bed, scrolling through photos on her phone. She said, very quietly, “Chaik, have you ever thought about us both going for a medical checkup? Just a routine one.”
Chaik looked at her, his expression immediately guarded. “Why? What for?”
“I just mean,” she said, choosing her words with extreme care, “we have been together for several months now. There has been no pregnancy. Maybe it would be a good idea for both of us to get checked. Just to be sure everything is perfectly fine before we officially marry.”
He sat up slowly, his face darkening. “So, you are suggesting that I might be the problem?”
“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying at all,” she backtracked quickly, seeing the storm gathering in his eyes. “I’m just saying that maybe we should both check, together. As a couple.”
He grabbed his shirt from the bedside chair, his movements sharp with anger. “You sound just like Ngozi now. Blaming me. Trying to make me feel like I am broken.” Adaeze sat up, hurt and frustration bubbling up inside her.
“I did not say that,” she protested.
“Let’s not ever talk about this again,” he snapped, cutting her off. “Ever.” Adaeze fell silent, but inside, a new, cold knot of fear began to form and tighten.
Chaik plunged ahead with the wedding preparations as if the conversation had never happened. He told his friends boastfully, “This wedding will shake this entire city. I want my ex-wife to sit there and see for herself what real success and happiness look like.” His friend Kunle laughed, but it was a nervous sound. “So, you are genuinely inviting her just to publicly disgrace her?”
Chaik smiled a proud, cruel smile. “She needs to see exactly what she lost when I cast her out.”
But Kunle looked uncertain. “Brother, are you sure that is a wise move? What if—”
“There is no ‘what if’!” Chaik snapped, cutting him off. “She will sit in that hall and watch my beautiful new bride walk down the aisle in diamonds and lace. Let her choke on her own regret.”
On the day of the wedding rehearsal, Chaik stood alone in the vast, empty hall before anyone else had arrived. He looked around at the extravagant decorations—the cascading roses, the glittering chandeliers, the rows of chairs upholstered in gold fabric. But despite the opulence, his heart felt strangely restless, devoid of peace. He took out his phone and stared once more at Ngozi’s name on the digital guest list. He thought of how she used to smile so tenderly when she straightened his ties for him. He remembered how she would prepare a special pot of pepper soup whenever he felt unwell. He recalled, with a sudden, painful clarity, the sound of her crying on the night he had thrown her out. He shook his head violently, as if to physically dislodge the memories. “No,” he whispered fiercely to the empty room. “She was the problem. She couldn’t give me a child. I made the only choice I could.” Still, he felt a tightness in his chest, a difficulty in drawing a full breath. He walked outside and lit a cigarette, trying to steady his nerves.
Far away from the wedding hall, Ngozi was bathing one of her giggling triplets when her phone buzzed on the table. Amaka, who was playing with the other two boys, picked it up. Her face immediately froze. “Ngozi,” she said, her voice tight. “What is this?”
Ngozi looked up, using a towel to dry the baby’s damp hair. “What is it?”
“It’s a wedding invitation,” Amaka said, her tone disbelieving. “From Chaik.”…
I like that