3

Time flew.

From the moment I agreed to the marriage and Aunty took me to the market to at least get something presentable for it. To when the elders and his people shared kola and drank wine as a sign of agreement of peace.

I barely had any time to rethink my decision. Even though I would have still arrived at the same decision, yet I wished I had more time, more time to myself.

To meditate on what this meant for me, to think of how I would manage. I didn’t have enough time.

Before I knew it I was married under the laws of customs. In the eyes of my people, I was already a married woman.

At the age of 21 married a man I did not know.

A Mrs was placed before my name within only 2 days, I didn’t have enough time to keep my title of Ms.

I was now Mrs Kingsley, a name I was only aware of a few hours ago.

I didn’t know how to feel, what to feel.

“Mma”, I heard my new husband call, making me turn around to face him. His voice was just as it usually was, smooth and deep. Smooth enough not to startle you, but deep enough to bring chills down your back.

He didn’t look like someone who would make me miserable, or make me regret ever being born. In fact as I looked into his light honey eyes I almost felt relieved it was him I was now married to and not another stranger.

He wore a black senator today, the outfit was custom to his body, I could tell.

It looked even more expensive than the suite, with beautiful gold cuffs that had the letters RK on them.

He was indeed handsome, he was more handsome in a native attire than in a suit.

He didn’t seem like the worst case scenario.

“Sir?”, I stuttered, not really knowing what to call him.

“Do not refer to me as sir, Chetachi”, he said.

I swallowed not really knowing what to say to that. I wasn’t sure how he wanted to be referred to. Since today everybody has referred to him as sir, apart from those older than him.

Even some of the elders mistakenly called him sir at certain intervals.

I nodded not really knowing what else to do.

I looked down avoiding his eyes, not wanting to get even more nervous.

Before I knew it I felt his fingers grabbing my cheek lightly then pull my face towards him to look at him.

The moment I looked up I felt as timid as ever. His eyes were kind, yet they looked so demanding.

“Look at me when I talk”

“You speak, my wife is not mute”, he said lowly.

My lips parted unknowingly as I looked at him.

“I’m sorry”, I mustered up the courage to say.

“Ramiel”, he spoke, still holding on to my chin gently.

Was that his name?

It sounded like a name given to an angel. Angel Ramiel.

“You call me that or any other thing,

But never Sir, I am your subject, not the other way round”, he said simply.

My mouth felt dry as he said those words.

My subject?

A man as handsome and wealthy as him, would be a subject of a woman like me? A woman like me with nothing to her name.

He smirked as he watched me trying to compose myself.

He let go on my chin and I fought the urge to look down again.

“Time to go home”, he said, before turning around.

I trailed not too closely behind him, wondering to myself how a man like him decided to choose me as a wife.

We got into the car after saying my goodbyes to aunty and even taking her number as well, besides the fact that I had no cell to call her.

The car was silent, just like the last time.

Ramiel’s POV

She looked like she always did. Effortlessly breathtaking.

Like the day I met her and she tumbled to the floor.

Before she fell on her ass I stopped in my tracks looking at her, as she fought to get something out of her eye while a sack bigger than her was on her head.

Then she ran into me unknowingly, not even suspecting that I could have been a person.

Until she looked up at me.

Her skin was fair and It betrayed her ever so often, when she felt shy or flushed.

She was small, I had to look down when I watched her, it was worth it though.

Chetachi was a beauty, not the kind of beauty that I was used to but a rare beauty nevertheless.

I was used to overly educated women who walked on inches of heels and still kept their balance and posture and were never scared to look me in the eyes.

They would shoot their shots and check me out as they pleased, whenever ever they pleased.

They stated their intentions on the table, whether genuine or not, never caring of the consequences.

I might scare them a bit, but I never made them squirm the way she squirmed in her seat while I moved over her to get her seat belt.

I didn’t see myself being so mesmerized by a girl from my village.

Last year before my mother passed and she asked that I get a wife from her hometown, I didn’t know what to expect.

I didn’t know if to expect the woman I just chose as my wife.

I felt thankful for listening to my mother just this once, or was it her doing?

I could picture my mother smirking and saying, ‘I told you so’, as she sees me with Chetachi.

She did.

She said I needed a woman from her hometown, she said I would feel how much I fit perfectly with someone from there.

I did feel like I fit perfectly.

Perfectly with my wife.

I was driving while stealing some glances now and then from Chetachi.

She was looking outside the window, her hands were together, and I could tell by how closely her palms were to each other, they were wet with sweat.

Today her hair was free from those rough braids and was neatly pulled up. Her hair was pitch black, despite how fair she was. Giving you a perfect and unaltered view of her face. Her forehead was a bit larger than the average, but it was cute. Her face was a small oval, making her chin pointy yet curved, and fit perfectly in my grand. Her dark eyes were the shapes of almonds, with dark thick lashes. I bet at the bat of her eye, you would fall into her control without a question.

Her lips were full but small, with a pale shade of natural pink.

Her skin drew my attention the most. Besides the fact I knew her life wasn’t the most glamorous, her skin remained flawless.

She wore a gown that only hugged her slightly by the waist. Made of a brown material with patterns and designs of black and white.

The dress only showed some of her chest but covered her breasts completely. It flowed down to her ankles and covered till her elbow.

She looked beautiful.

I wanted to say something so I could get her to look at me with those eyes, but I wasn’t sure what to say.

I felt like she could hate me.

For marrying her without her permission.

Even though she was calm all through the procedure, I felt like she had a detest for me, for doing this.

“Where are we going”, I heard her say, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I pulled my eyes from the road and looked over at her. She was already looking at me.

She didn’t seem angry or sad. I could tell she was nervous, but that was all I knew.

“To the city”, I said, referring to the capital of Enugu.

“You live in the city?”, she asked further.

“No”, I said simply, looking back at the road.

“Then where are we going?”, she asked again, a hint of irritation evident in her voice.

“A hotel”, I said again.

It was obvious she didn’t like being curious.

“You don’t have a home in the city?”.

“No.

I don’t live here”.

I looked over at her and her nose was scrunched in annoyance.

“Where do you live?”, she asked.

I looked away from her, smiling to myself for finally getting a reaction out of her.

“Seattle”.

I looked at her shortly and now both her nose and eyebrows were shrunken.

I guess she didn’t know where that was.

“That’s not in Nigeria”, she said.

She guessed right.

“Yes”, I said simply.

“Where is it?”.

“The United States”, I answered.

“Of America?”, she asked.

Her voice one pitch higher in clear surprise.

“Yes”, I replied.

“You live in America?”, she asked further, even though she already knew my answer.

“Born and raised”.

“You are an American”, she said lowly, as if to herself.

“And you are my wife”.

I heard her nervously shift in her seat, bringing yet another smile to my face.

Cheta’s POV

In less than an hour we were in the city.

Believe it or not I had never been.

As we drove by the busy streets I looked at each and everything I could.

The hawkers hawked all sorts of things, from ukpa to odara and even drinks.

We even passed so many shops that showcased different clothes, some were showing the mannequins tummies or back or stopped just below their plastic asses.

The clothes that caught my eyes were the trousers, the jeans and the trousers that came with matching tops.

I wondered if Seattle was as busy as here.

“You need new clothes”, I heard Ramiel say, pulling me out of my thoughts and making me turn to face him.

“_____no”, I stammered, feeling a bit embarrassed that he caught me drooling at the shops.

I looked away, feeling my cheeks go warm, I could feel his eyes on me, we were stopped on the road so he didn’t have a reason to look away.

“Do you like black?”, I heard him ask.

“———-no”, I stammered but spoke honestly.

“What do you like?”, he asked.

“Blue, yellow and purple”, I said, like he compelled every word out of me.

“Red?”, he asked further.

I looked over at him, his eyes weren’t on me, he was mindlessly tapping on the steering will as he expected an answer.

“Red is fine”, I said simply then looked away.

The car started to move again and I continued to look around, taking in every new thing I saw.

Before I knew it we were packed inside a big compound.

I looked out the window at the building, it was the biggest building I had ever seen.

It had a waterfall right in front at the middle which looked perfectly in place and beautiful. I was too stunned to come out of the car.

I was just about to reach for the door before it opened and Ramiel was at the other side, his void face on his face as I stepped out of the car.

He offered me his arm, I took hold of it hesitantly and he led me forward, while his men tailed behind and a few walked in front.

“Good afternoon sir”, an older man at the door greeted.

Ramiel nodded in response as the doors made of glass pulled open as we walked in.

Eyes if the workers followed Ramiel and me, I felt myself get very uncomfortable at the intense stares I got from everyone, even some that were definitely not workers.

I felt Ramiel’s hand rest on my hand that held on to his hand. Weirdly enough it comforted me.

“Good afternoon”, I heard someone greet me, making me look over to the woman. She wore a neatly pressed uniform and had a smile on her face as she referred to Ramiel.

“The Kingsley reservations”, Ramiel ordered disinterested.

I watched the woman fidget out of nervousness, probably at Ramiel’s harsh tone.

She brought out two keys and Kingsley took them and led me away. I felt the need to apologize on his behalf. Instead I looked at her with apologetic eyes, which she responded to with a tight lipped smile.

We stopped in front of metal colored doors. Ramiel reached to press a button and I watched him closely.

The doors pulled open on their own a while later, the little room was empty and we walked in.

I noticed a whole side of the wall had various buttons, Ramiel pressed on the one that said 3.

I felt us start moving upwards.

“An elevator”, I said out loud finally realizing.

Ramiel looked at me curiously, but I was too in my own thoughts to be nervous.

I read a lot, from the Bible to textbooks in secondary school to even dictionaries.

I learnt new words I never had to use but today was one of the few times I could use a word.

We were on an elevator.

The doors opened while I heard a ‘ding’ sound.

We walked out of the elevator. My hand still held on to Ramiel’s arm.

We finally stopped at a white door, which I assumed was our room.