echoes of defiance (Rewriting)

chapter 18

As we drove to Reedas to pick up my clothes, he suddenly reached for my hand. A wave of emotions swept through me, unspoken but deeply felt. With a tenderness that made my heart stutter, he lifted my hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on my knuckles.

"Alhamdulillah for this gift," Zain murmured against my skin, his voice deep and reverent. "I can’t believe you’re mine."

A shy smile spread across my face as I looked away, feeling the warmth of his words. Just six months ago, I couldn't stand him. Now, here we were—married. The thought was still shocking, surreal even. What could be more unbelievable than Zain, the man I once found infuriating, now being my husband?

He glanced over at me, still holding my hand with that signature regal air about him, the same quiet confidence he always had. "What are your preparations for the wedding?" he asked casually, though I knew exactly what he was hinting at.

I gave him a knowing look. "I didn't get time to.," I said trying to keep my tone light.

He smirked, his thumb gently caressing the back of my hand. "You know that’s not what I meant."

I sighed. "None," I replied simply.

His brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean, 'none'?"

"I mean I’ll just attend Falmata’s wedding. I’m going back to Seoul in ten days, so there’s no time to prepare," I explained,

He chuckled softly, his amusement clear as day. "It’s fine, however you want it."

Our conversation flowed easily after that, filling the time as we drove to Falmata’s house. When we arrived, Zain dropped me off, promising to pick me up at 7 pm.

The event was lively, and everyone was in good spirits. Falmata, in her usual exuberance, told our friends about my sudden marriage. There were congratulations all around, but I could feel the curious eyes on me, the quiet whispers of gossip circulating. I chose to ignore them, letting the joy of the moment take precedence.

At the end of the evening, Zain arrived punctually to pick me up. I slipped out before the event ended, not wanting to attract too much attention. The gossip  is getting  much, "i clearly  heard someone  saying i got married in secret  because i'm ashamed  of the man i married.  I didn’t  have the time to respond  to them so i just smile. As we arrived home, he greeted my mother, and to my surprise, Zain engaged in easy conversation with her. I watched them chat, my heart swelling at how effortlessly they got along. They were never this close

Mama brought out her famous coconut drink, and Zain’s eyes lit up after the first sip. He tried the snacks, but it was clear the coconut drink had won him over. He stayed for nearly thirty minutes, chatting and laughing with Mom before bidding us both goodnight.

That night, I didn’t go to Amma’s house. Instead, I focused on my preparations for the next event feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Just as I was about to head to bed, my phone buzzed. It was Zain. We talked for over an hour, mostly about Falmata’s wedding, with me doing most of the talking while he listened intently, occasionally interjecting with soft laughter or a quiet comment. His calm, steady presence soothed my nerves, and we finally called it a night.

The next morning dawned with the wedding Fatiha. The dinner was set for later in the evening, but as I tried on my clothes, Mom stopped me in my tracks.

“You’re not wearing that tight-fitting dress to a mixed event,” she declared sternly.

I sighed, knowing there was no arguing with her. Mama immediately ordered a fabric from Reedas and called Aunty Rukayya for a simple yet elegant design that would be ready in less than 24 hours. It cost 1 million naira, but I wasn’t surprised given the rush order.

By 5 pm, the outfit arrived, just as we were escorting Falmata to her husband’s house. I hadn’t seen Zain all day, and our messages had been brief. When it came time for my face to be done by Faty Mamza, I opted for a natural, no-makeup makeup look. I slipped into my knee-length blouse and skirt, draping a delicate veil over my shoulder, and topped it off with an intricately tied gele. The look was modest yet beautiful, just as I had asked.

By 10 pm, we were at the venue. Mom and Amma were already seated, so I joined them. Ali Jita's music filled the hall as we escorted the bride to her seat, dancing to the rhythm. I caught sight of Ya Usman and waved at him, feeling the joy of the celebration. Soon after, the dance floor opened, and all the bridesmaids took to the floor, laughing and twirling to the beat.

I walked beside mom and Amma, watching the couples  as we  shower money on them suddenly, a shower of $100 bills rained down on me. I froze, panic surging through me. I didn’t want this attention—especially now that I was married. I glanced up, and there he was, Zain, standing tall in a sea-blue agbada, his zanna bukar cap perfectly perched on his head. Ya Salam, he looked breathtaking. Lots of brides maids gossiping that "i had gotten  married  now i caught  the attention  of this handsome  man. What a waste i clearly  heard  it" But before I could dwell on it, another shower of dollars came from a different angle.

Zain’s demeanor shifted instantly. His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and his face darkened with fury. My eyes followed his line of sight, and there he was—Suleiman Umar Sodangi, son of the Senate President. He used to like me when we were in school, and now here he was, throwing money at me like this was his moment to shine.

Sensing the storm brewing, I quickly took Zain’s hand and gently pulled him away from the dance floor. His grip was firm but tense, and I could feel the raw emotion radiating off him. We walked together in silence, but the intensity between us was palpable.

We walk to the hotels  garden. And sit on the chairs provided

What was meant to be a fun night had turned into something far more complicated. But as I looked at Zain, my heart swelled with a deeper understanding. This man, the one who used to make me so frustrated, was now the center of my world, my husband.

And no amount of drama or dollar bills was going to change that.