Chaik was obsessed with making the wedding grand. Not just for love, but to prove something. To his friends. To his mother. To the world. He wanted everyone to see that he had moved on, that his life was better without Ngozi. And deep down, a small voice whispered, he wanted Ngozi to see it too.
One afternoon, as he sat with the wedding planner going through the guest list, Chaik paused. «Add one more name,» he said.
«Who?» the planner asked.
He picked up a pen and wrote it himself. «Ngozi Eze.» The planner raised her brow. «Your ex-wife?»
Chaik didn’t explain. He just smiled coldly. «Send her the invite. First class. I want her to be there. Front seat.»
Meanwhile, Adeora was planning her own side of things. She had ordered her wedding gown from a designer in Milan. The lace cost more than some people’s cars. Her bridesmaids were already rehearsing their dance steps. Her bridal shower was to be held at a beach resort. To the world, she was glowing. But behind closed doors, Adeora was getting worried.
She had been trying to get pregnant for months. Nothing. Every morning, she checked her calendar. Every evening, she stared at test kits. All negative. She hadn’t told Chaik yet. She was afraid. And her mother’s voice kept ringing in her head. «Are you sure this man is not the one with the problem?»
Two weeks before the wedding, Adeora finally brought it up. They were lying on the bed, going through some photos on her phone. She said quietly, «Chaik, do you ever think about seeing a doctor?»
Chaik looked at her. «Why?»
«For a checkup,» she said carefully. «Just to be sure everything is fine. Before we marry.»
He frowned. «What do you mean by that?»
«I mean,» she hesitated, «we’ve been together for months. No pregnancy.»
Chaik stood up slowly. «So you think I’m the problem?»
«No, no,» she said quickly. «I’m just saying maybe we both check. Together.»
Chaik’s face turned cold. «You sound just like Ngozi,» he said sharply. «Blaming me. Making me feel like I’m broken.»
Adeora sat up. «I didn’t say that.»
He grabbed his shirt. «Let’s not talk about this again. Ever.»
Adeora said nothing. But inside, a new kind of fear was growing. Chaik continued the wedding plans like nothing happened. He told his friends, «This wedding will shake the city. I want my ex to see what real success looks like.»
His friend Kunle laughed. «So you’re inviting her to disgrace her?»
Chaik smiled proudly. «She needs to see what she lost.»
But Kunle looked unsure. «Are you sure that’s wise? What if—»
«There’s no ‘what if’,» Chaik snapped. «She’ll sit in that hall and see my new bride walking down the aisle in diamonds. Let her choke on regret.»
On the day of the wedding rehearsal, Chaik stood in the hall alone before anyone else arrived. He looked around the decorated space. Roses, chandeliers, golden chairs. But his heart wasn’t peaceful. He took out his phone and stared at Ngozi’s name on the guest list again. He thought about how she used to smile when she arranged his ties, how she made him pepper soup whenever he was sick, how she cried that night he threw her out.
He shook his head quickly. «No,» he whispered. «She was the problem. She couldn’t give me a child. I made the right choice.» Still, he couldn’t breathe properly. He walked out and lit a cigarette.
Far away, Ngozi was bathing one of the triplets when her phone buzzed. Amaka picked it up and froze. «Ngozi, what is it?» Ngozi asked, drying the baby’s hair.
«It’s a wedding invitation.»
«From who?»
Amaka turned the phone. «Chaik.»
Ngozi stared at the screen, her heart pounding. She reached for the phone, read the invite, then slowly placed it on the table. Amaka was fuming. «What kind of insult is this? Is he mad?»
But Ngozi just stood quietly, holding her baby close. Then she smiled. A calm, steady smile. «It’s okay,» she said softly. «Let him have his wedding.»
Amaka frowned. «You’re not going, right?»
Ngozi looked at her babies, all three sleeping peacefully. She didn’t answer. But the way she walked to her room, with quiet confidence, said everything.
Ngozi stood by the window, one hand gently rocking the baby in her arms while the other held the wedding invitation. The gold envelope was thick and shiny, like something meant for a king. The letters were bold and loud: «Chaik and Adeora, The Royal Union.» She had read the card five times already. Each time, it said the same thing: the date, the venue, the dress code, and then, her name printed clearly on the guest list for a front-row seat.
She lowered her eyes and took a deep breath. She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t shaking. But something inside her was rising slowly, like fire warming cold stones. Amaka walked in, carrying a bowl of hot pap. «I still don’t understand why he sent this. Is he crazy? Or just wicked?»
Ngozi said nothing. Amaka placed the bowl down. «Is he trying to insult you, after everything he did?» Still no answer.
Amaka snapped. «Ngozi, talk to me now! Why are you so calm? You should have torn that invitation into pieces and thrown it in the dustbin.»
Ngozi finally spoke. «He wants me to feel small.»
Amaka folded her arms. «Then let’s ignore him. We will not give him that chance.»
Ngozi turned slowly. «He wants me to come and cry in a corner while his bride walks in with gold on her skin and a smile on her lips.»
«And we will not go,» Amaka said again.
Ngozi looked at her three sons sleeping quietly on the rug, their matching yellow onesies wrinkled from playtime. «But what if we show him the truth?»
Amaka’s brow rose. «What truth?»
Ngozi’s voice was firm. «That I was never the problem. That the woman he thought was broken is whole.»
Amaka was silent for a long time. Then she sat down. «Wait, are you planning to go to the wedding?»
Ngozi nodded.
«With the boys?»
Another nod. Amaka opened her mouth but nothing came out. Then she laughed. «Chai, that man will faint. Ngozi, are you serious?»
Ngozi smiled for the first time that day. «Very serious.»
The plan began that evening. Ngozi went to the wardrobe and picked out a long yellow gown she had kept for a special day. It had been sewn months ago by Amaka, but she had never worn it. Amaka brought out her makeup kit. «If we’re doing this, we’ll do it well.»
«I don’t want to look loud,» Ngozi said. «I want to look peaceful but powerful.»
«Say less,» Amaka grinned. «You’ll look like God’s proof.»
They ordered new outfits for the boys: matching yellow shorts and white shirts with bow ties. Amaka borrowed a friend’s contact and booked a black Rolls-Royce Phantom. The car would arrive that morning and wait down the road until Ngozi gave the signal. They practiced how the boys would hold her hands and walk beside her. The twins were a little playful, but the youngest always followed her steps.
«I’m not going there to fight,» Ngozi reminded Amaka as they folded clothes.
«I know,» Amaka said, «but trust me, your presence alone will scatter that wedding.»
On the night before the wedding, Ngozi couldn’t sleep. She sat by the window again, watching the stars. Emeka came and stood behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. «You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,» he said softly.
«I want to,» she replied, «not to prove anything to him, but to remind myself that I survived. I’m still standing.»
He kissed her cheek. «Whatever you decide, I’m with you.»
Ngozi turned to him. «Thank you. You’ve given me what no man could ever give me: peace.»
Emeka smiled. «And you gave me back joy.»
The morning of the wedding arrived. The whole city buzzed with noise. Social media was full of pictures. #ChaikAndAdeora was trending. Everyone talked about how the wedding was the event of the year. The venue was a giant hall near the waterfront.
Long red carpets covered the entrance. Cameras flashed everywhere. Guests walked in with glittering clothes and sunglasses. Big politicians and business moguls sat at the front. Inside, Adeora stood before the mirror in her hotel room, her white gown sparkling like ice. Her best friend, Uju, adjusted her veil. «You look stunning. Chaik will fall in love all over again.»
Adeora smiled weakly. «I hope so.» But in her heart, she still carried fear. No pregnancy, no answers, and a man who refused to get tested.
Chaik stood at the altar, looking around the decorated hall. He wore a white agbada with gold embroidery, his shoes polished like glass. He kept checking his watch. Kunle came to stand beside him. «Why are you restless?»
«I’m waiting for someone,» Chaik said.
«Who?»
He didn’t answer. Then suddenly, his eyes caught movement near the entrance. A black Rolls-Royce pulled up. The back door opened slowly. Out stepped Ngozi. She wore the yellow gown like a queen. Her face was calm, her steps sure. And beside her walked three small boys, dressed like angels.
The hall went silent. People gasped. Phones came out. «Who is that?» «Wait, is that his ex-wife?» «She has triplets!» The whispers spread like wildfire.
Chaik couldn’t breathe. He grabbed Kunle’s hand. «Tell me I’m dreaming.»
Kunle blinked. «Bro, she has children.»
Chaik stepped down from the altar, walking forward like someone in a trance. Ngozi walked slowly, gracefully, holding her sons’ hands. Her eyes met his, but they didn’t shake. She smiled. A soft, simple smile. The crowd parted as she walked to her seat in the front row. The seat Chaik had reserved for her.
She sat down quietly. Her boys climbed onto her lap and whispered, «Mommy, we made it.» She nodded and kissed their heads.
Adeora entered the hall shortly after, her veil over her face. She noticed the silence. She noticed the faces. She noticed Chaik standing stiff at the front, his eyes frozen. She reached the altar and whispered, «What’s going on?»
Chaik couldn’t speak. The pastor cleared his throat. «Shall we begin?» But Chaik wasn’t listening. His eyes were still on Ngozi. On the children. On the truth.
Back in her seat, Amaka whispered, «Do you want to leave now?»
Ngozi shook her head. «No, we’ll stay till the end.» Her voice was calm. Her heart was calm. She wasn’t here to destroy anything. She was here to be seen, to be heard, without a word.
The wedding hall had gone from loud to quiet in just a few minutes. All the music, all the camera flashes, and all the laughter had paused. The guests didn’t know whether to sit still or turn around. Some held their phones midair, mouths slightly open, while others simply stared at the woman who had just walked in as if the wind had changed direction.
Ngozi sat at the front, exactly where Chaik had planned for her to sit, but not in the way he had imagined. She wasn’t weeping in shame. She wasn’t looking bitter or defeated. She sat with calm pride, dressed in yellow, glowing like the sunrise. On each side of her sat her sons—triplets—boys with smooth brown skin and wide, curious eyes. Their shirts were white, tucked neatly into yellow shorts. One of them had a toy car in his hand; the other two were whispering to each other and smiling.
The crowd still couldn’t believe it. «That’s Ngozi,» a woman in green lace whispered behind her fan.
«She has children?» the man beside her asked. «They look like her, and they look like…»
«Shh,» someone else said. «Let’s see how it ends.»
At the front, the pastor coughed again. «Shall we begin the ceremony?» Chaik was standing beside Adeora, but he wasn’t listening. His mind was far away. Adeora leaned closer, her voice soft but sharp. «Who is that woman with those boys?»
Chaik blinked. «That’s… that’s Ngozi.»
Adeora’s brows furrowed. «Your ex-wife?» He nodded slowly. «Those children with her?»
Chaik didn’t answer. Adeora turned her face to him completely. «Chaik, are those her children?»
The crowd was now completely focused on the couple at the altar. Even the photographers didn’t know where to point their cameras anymore. Chaik shifted on his feet. His mouth opened, but no words came out. Adeora’s eyes widened. «You told me she was barren.»
«I… I thought she was,» Chaik stammered.
Adeora’s voice rose slightly. «You thought? You told me she couldn’t give you a child. You said that’s why you left her.»
«I believed it,» he said quietly. «That’s what the doctors—»
«What doctors?» she snapped. «You never showed me any results. You never agreed to go for tests yourself.» Chaik rubbed his head, sweating under the lights. «Adeora, please, can we talk after this?»
«No,» she said firmly. «We will talk now. Because the entire hall is watching.» She turned to the crowd. «Is this your idea of a joke, Chaik? You invited your ex-wife here just to disgrace her, and now she walks in with triplets?»
There was a loud murmur from the guests. Chaik looked around nervously. «Lower your voice.»
But Adeora stepped away from him, her face filled with confusion and hurt. «You lied to me,» she said, louder now. «You lied to me just like you lied to her.»
Kunle came up quickly. «Adeora, please, let’s go outside for a minute.»
«No,» she said. «I want answers. Right here.» She looked straight at Ngozi. «Mama, please,» she called out. «Forgive me for asking this, but are those boys your children?»
Ngozi stood up slowly. She picked up the smallest boy and carried him in her arms. «Yes,» she said clearly. «They are my sons.» The hall went silent again. She looked at Chaik, her eyes calm but strong. «You called me barren, Chaik. You threw me out and watched me cry on the floor. You said I was cursed. You made me believe I was less than a woman.»
