So his wife was given in marriage to the man who had been Samson’s best man at the wedding.
‘Did you tell him?’
We stare at our feet in the awkward silent. He says nothing. I want to ask again in case he didn’t hear the first time. But it won’t come out. I shift in my seat. I feel the perspiration in my bank. I dab my face, gently, though, wouldn’t want to ruin the face beat. After all, we paid hundreds of thousands of naira for the magic.
‘He sent me here to check on you.’
He still didn’t answer the question. I clasp my hands on my lap. I feel myself begin to relax a little. Maybe, it doesn’t really matter anymore. He won’t tell him. And I didn’t have to.
My bridesmaids come in. They usher him out and begin to tend to me. Their ministrations grate on my nerves. My pent – up anger releases itself as hot tears. I begin to dab furiously at my face. I am ruining the make-up. The girls surround me and tell me it is okay to be emotional. The makeup artist comes again to retouch my face. She pats my face gently and assures me she will be near enough to touch up all the time. I smile at her. I just hope there will still be a wedding by the time I am done with what I have to do. I take a deep breath. It is now or never. I order a cab with one of these cab apps.
‘Where are you going?’, One of my cousins turned bridesmaids asks.
‘I will be back soon. I have to make sure that there will be a wedding today.’ The ladies gasp. My chief bridesmaid gives me a hug.
The groom is already at the church. When I step out of the cab alone, some of the guests are puzzled. I go to meet the officiating pastor and ask that the groom and I be given a private room to discuss.
‘Are you going to call off the wedding?’
‘You will when you hear what I am going to tell you.’
‘But Yomi said he just left your place now. He said you were fine. I love your son very much, you know that.’
‘I know.’ I begin to cry. ‘Yomi is my son’s father.’
He flops into the nearest seat. ‘But he has been in the UK all the while…’
‘I am pregnant again. For Yomi.’