Semua Bab The reluctant vow: Bab 81 - Bab 90

The living room at Zara’s house was warm and cozy that evening. The lights were dimmed just enough to create a soft glow, and the faint hum of a playlist filled the background — old R&B hits that brought back waves of memories from their university days. The coffee table in front of them was cluttered with opened wine bottles, half-finished cups of ice cream, empty chin-chin packs, and a large bowl of popcorn no one seemed to be eating.Kemi sat cross-legged on the floor with a throw pillow hugged to her chest, her bonnet slipping off her head as usual. Chantel was curled into the armrest of the couch in a matching silk pyjama set, her nails freshly done, face glowing effortlessly even without makeup. Zara sat in the middle, a huge hoodie drowning her slim frame. Her natural hair was tied up in a puff, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days.It was a classic girls’ night — long overdue.“So… tell me how we got here,” Chantel sighed dramatically, swirling her wine glass and looki

The house was cloaked in silence, the kind that only came after a long, chaotic day. Most of the lights had been dimmed. Outside, the night was thick and still, broken only by the faint chirping of crickets and the soft hum of the air conditioning units.Regan’s mother moved through the familiar hallway quietly, her fingers grazing the smooth walls as if reacquainting herself with memories she’d long buried. Everything looked the same, yet nothing felt like it used to.She stopped just outside the private lounge at the end of the corridor — the one space in the house that had always been his. She didn’t knock.Inside, Chief Kareem sat alone, a glass of whiskey in hand, the bottle already half-empty on the side table. He didn’t look up when she entered, but he didn’t need to. He knew it was her.“You still drink the same brand,” Amira said quietly.He took a slow sip. “Some things don’t change.”“No,” she agreed, “some just rot quietly.”A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. “I see time h

The room buzzed with quiet activity.Brushes tapped against palettes. Hangers clinked as stylists rearranged gowns and veils. The scent of heated styling tools mixed with the powdery fragrance of finishing spray. Zara sat in the center of it all, her silk robe slightly askew, lips pressed in a thin line.She barely moved as the makeup artist applied concealer in soft, practiced strokes, her touch featherlight. A hairstylist tugged gently at her wig cap, laying edges with the precision of a sculptor. One stylist steamed the hem of her bridal gown while another organized her accessories on a velvet tray.Through it all, Kemi and Chantel sat close on either side of the bed, trying — and mostly failing — to lift her spirit.“Omo, these people carry this wedding like it’s the Met Gala,” Kemi murmured, side-eyeing the hairstylist working behind Zara.Chantel popped open a can of malt. “If she comes out looking like one of those bridal cartoons with gold highlighter on her forehead, I’m riot

The grand reception hall sparkled like something out of a royal dream. Crystal chandeliers glittered above, catching the light from the thousands of bulbs that lined the ceilings and walls. The air buzzed with excitement, laced with whispers, perfumes, and camera flashes. Decorated in soft whites, shimmering golds, and blushed peach florals, the hall exuded luxury in every inch. Massive LED screens around the space streamed moments from the church ceremony, and each table was adorned with fresh roses, candles, and custom menus gilded with Zara and Regan’s initials in gold foil.On one end of the hall stood the multi-tiered wedding cake, towering like a sculpture. On the other — a luxury stage, set for the bride and groom like thrones awaiting a king and queen.Influencers, high-profile guests, and socialites were already going live, snapping selfies and tagging the official wedding hashtag that was now trending across the country. The media buzzed at every corner, their cameras ready,

The night was quiet.Too quiet.After all the lights, music, and applause… the mansion seemed swallowed in stillness. Only the distant hum of a generator filled the air outside, and the soft ticking of the wall clock echoed like footsteps in a hallway.Zara stepped into their bedroom first, still wrapped in the shimmer of her gown. It was beautiful — hand-beaded lace, delicate embroidery, fit for a queen. Yet, in this dimly lit room, it suddenly felt like a costume she couldn’t wait to remove. She didn’t glance back to check if Regan was behind her. She already knew he was.He followed, just a few steps behind, carrying the weight of more than just the day.Neither spoke as he gently closed the door behind them.For a long moment, they simply stood there. Not looking at each other. Not touching. The air between them was thick with silence — not the peaceful kind, but the kind that pressed against the walls, waiting to break.Zara moved first. Slowly, silently. She walked over to the m