My fiance boss wants me.

The used condom in our bathroom bin was not mine.

And tomorrow was my wedding.

My hands started shaking so badly that I had to hold the bathroom sink to stand. My white wedding dress was hanging behind the bathroom door, covered in transparent nylon, perfect and untouched. I had spent 3 months sewing it with my own hands. My aso-ebi was already shared to 40 friends. The hall in GRA Phase 2 was already paid for, decorated and locked for tomorrow. My mother had arrived from the village this morning. My small tailoring shop at Peter Odili Road had a sign that said "CLOSED FOR WEDDING - MY BIG DAY".

Everything was ready. Except my fiance.

"TARI!" I screamed. My voice was not my own anymore. It was broken and cracked like someone had choked me.

He came out of the bathroom with just a small white towel around his waist. Water was dripping from his chest. He did not look scared. He did not look guilty. He just looked annoyed that I was disturbing him.

"Amara, why are you shouting like a market woman? What is it again?" he said, rubbing his hair with another towel.

I pointed at the small bin beside the toilet. My finger was shaking so badly I could barely point. "Who was here, Tari? Who was in this house? Who did you bring to our bed? To the bed we will sleep on after our wedding?"

He looked at the bin, then at me, and he sighed. That sigh broke my heart more than the condom itself.

"Amara, are you really doing this tonight? Our wedding is tomorrow morning by 10am. Do you want to give yourself headache before your wedding? Don't start this drama tonight."

That was when I heard it. A soft, mocking laugh. From our bedroom. From MY bedroom where my wedding night wrapper was already laid on the bed.

My heart stopped completely.

"Blessing?" I whispered.

My own cousin, Blessing, walked out. My blood cousin. The girl I housed for one year when she came to Port Harcourt with no job. The girl I gave my old sewing machine to start her own hustle. She was wearing my bridal robe. The short white silk robe I bought for my wedding night. The one with "Mrs. Johnson" written at the back in gold. Her hair was rough, her lips smeared, and she was smiling like she had just won a lottery.

"Amara, don't be dramatic now," she said, tying the robe tighter around her waist. "He was just stressed. Wedding stress is too much for men. You know how men are."

My chest felt like someone was pressing a hot iron on it. I could not breathe.

"Blessing? My own cousin? My own blood sister? In my house? On the night before my wedding? In my matrimonial bed?"

Tari finally dropped the fake calm face. His face became angry and wicked.

"Yes! Lower your voice! Do you want neighbors to hear you and come and meet us here? Yes, I slept with her. So what? You are always tired. You are always saying Tari not tonight, I have customers clothes to sew tomorrow. You are not even romantic. Blessing understands me."

I looked at the man I had dated for 4 years. The man I had suffered with when he had nothing. The man I used my own tailoring money to buy shoes for his interviews.

I slowly pulled off my engagement ring and threw it on the tiled floor.

"The wedding is off," I whispered. "Get out of my house. Both of you. Get out now."

Blessing laughed again. "Where will you go, Amara? You have already invited the whole Port Harcourt. Your church choir, your tailoring customers, your whole family is already on the road coming. If you cancel now, you will be the shame of this town."

She was right. That was the most painful part. My phone had been ringing since 6pm. My mother: 15 missed calls. My pastor: 3 missed calls.

I grabbed my small purse, no slippers, just my short house gown, and I ran out into the heavy rain.

At 11:15pm, I found myself sitting in front of a closed provision shop on Peter Odili Road. Soaked to my bones. Mascara all over my face. My wedding was in 9 hours.

That was when a black Range Rover stopped in front of me. The tinted glass wound down slowly.

A deep voice said, "Amara?"

I looked up. It was Mr. Jidenna Cole. Tari's boss. The owner of Cole Energy Ltd. The billionaire that Tari always said has no heart.

"What are you doing here in the rain by this time? Where is Tari? Isn't your wedding tomorrow morning?" he asked.

I could not answer. I just cried louder.

He came out with a big black umbrella and brought me into his car. The AC was warm. It smelled like expensive perfume.

He gave me tissue. "Drink. And tell me what happened."

So I told him everything. The bin, my cousin in my robe, Tari's words, the ring on the floor.

As I spoke, his face changed. His jaw tightened. His hands squeezed the steering wheel.

He brought out his phone and dialed. His voice was ice cold.

"Hello, Wale? Cancel all of Tari Johnson's wedding leave. And prepare his sack letter. Effective immediately tonight."

I gasped. "No, please sir, don't."

He looked at me. "He humiliated you in your own house. On the night before your wedding. That is not a man."

Then he looked at my phone which was still ringing. My mother's picture flashing.

He asked, "Your hall is paid for? Your family is already here in PH for tomorrow?"

I nodded. "Yes sir. Everything is paid. 200 guests."

He was quiet for one minute, staring at the rain. Then he made a decision.

"Good. Then we will not cancel the wedding."

I thought I did not hear well. "Sir?"

He opened his glove compartment and brought out two files. He placed them on my lap.

One was a marriage certificate. Already typed, with his full name: JIDENNA CHIBUIKE COLE.

The other was a black American Express card.

He said, "My mother is threatening me. She says if I don't get married this month, she will remove me as MD of my father's company and give it to my younger brother. I need a wife for 30 days."

He leaned closer. His perfume was so strong, so expensive and clean.

"Marry me tomorrow. In that same hall you paid for. Wear your same white dress. Let Tari and your cousin and the whole Port Harcourt come and see you marrying his billionaire boss. Let them feel the shame, not you. After 30 days, I will give you 20 million naira and a clean divorce."

My mouth opened. My heart was beating so fast.

It was crazy. It was dangerous.

But outside, the rain was still falling, and my phone was still ringing. 22 missed calls now. If I say no, I will be the laughing stock tomorrow.

If I say yes... I will get revenge.

I looked at the marriage certificate. And then at him.

"Mr. Jidenna... are you serious? You want to marry me? A small tailor from Peter Odili Road?"

He brought out a gold pen and placed it in my shaking wet hand. His hand touched mine. It was warm and steady.

"Sign it now. We have a wedding to attend in 9 hours, Mrs. Cole."