At a Boutique in Abuja
“White, cream or gold?” Nene asks, twisting long wedding gowns before Kemi.
“I think you have to try all of them out. We will take pictures of you in them, go home and decide carefully.” She replies, showing her snow-white set of teeth through painted lips.
Nene grins, fixing one of the dresses along the length of her body and gauging it for propriety. “You rock, girl! I will be right back.” She dashes off to the changing room, leaving a trail of thumping sounds from her high-heeled shoes against the floor.
It is just a few more days to the wedding. Nene and Kemi, her bosom friend and Chief Bridesmaid have come to shop for wedding clothes and accessories.
Nene is a lady of thirty-three, tall with brown-coloured eyes. She has a big mouth which gets even bigger whenever she smiles. Kemi has known Nene for almost five years dating back to an accidental meeting in a mall. They have since become inseparable.
After long hours of rummaging, making choices, and twerking before the camera, they leave the boutique, lugging heavy shopping bags. By then, the sun has started to amble back to the West.
Nene can’t stop smiling and poking silly jokes at everyone. Back in the mall, she told a guy checking out a cowboy hat that he looked like a biblical character in it. She then laughed. She is dying in excitement.
“Kemi.” Nene calls in a drab tone.
“I am scared.”
Kemi has both her hands on the wheel but she looks across to read Nene’s face. Nene’s eyes have darkened and a thin line of vein emerged across her forehead. She is worried sick.
“He won’t find out. Trust me.” Kemi says, throwing her right arm to brush a palm down Nene’s hair. She quickly returns the hand to the wheel in time not to miss a turn across the road.
“The thing is that I feel bad founding my marriage on lies and secrets.”
Kemi frowns in silent reproach. “Don’t be silly…In fact, pick your phone. Call Wole and tell him everything. I hope he kisses you over the phone and whispers: ‘that is lovely baby. It doesn’t matter. It is all in the past.’
“I hope he says that too.”
Kemi grits her teeth at the silly remark. “You dumb girl. Don’t worry yourself. Enjoy your upcoming marriage. Your secrets are meant for the grave, not your husband. Next week, you will say ‘I do’. Nothing else matters.”
Nene forces a skin-deep smile.
Wole’s sitting room
Wole is seated beside his Best Man, Tope on a double couch. A lady sits directly opposite. She dons a white long sleeve shirt with a dark skirt. She is heavily made up- catchy red shines from her lips.
“I think I go for the second choice.” She says, looking into a notebook in her palms.
Wole turns and looks at Tope. The latter nods his approval. “Okay, you are the expert here. Let’s go with it.”
Miss Red-coated Lips smiles and scribbles on the notebook, then stands to go. She pulls her skirt down. Wole and Tope go on their feet too.
“The wedding will be a blast, Mr. Wole. I am good at this.” She extends her right palm.
“I hope so.” Wole replies and takes the soft hand into his. She heads for the exit door, displaying a far-from-natural catwalk.
“Tope, see you around.” She says at the entrance. The door shuts behind her.
Wole playfully slaps Tope’s chest. “She is hitting on you.”
“I so wish. Who doesn’t want that…? Well, no need to rush.” He licks his dark lips. Tope’s lips have known very little time without a cigarette caught in between them. He is a womanizer too. He always jokes to have slept with as many women as there are bees in a big hive.
The both of them sit down.
“I want to call my wife.” Wole says, bringing out his phone. He is a big-statured man but his voice is feminine. He is very emotional too as Tope always argues.
Wole is the type of person who believes in things like not wanting to just use and dump a lady at a night club. He views such things as cruel and inhumane. To Tope, Wole is pathetically weak and unmanly toward women.
“Why do you want to call her?”
“She is supposed to be my wife. I don’t want to give her reasons to start suspecting me. This our plan has to work.”
Tope holds his shoulder. “Listen. This will work. You will have your revenge. If you keep calling her, she might get into your head with all the ‘I love you’ stuff ladies are known for. Just chill.”
Wole fiddles with his phone, sighs, then slides it back into his side pocket.
“You want some alcohol?” Wole asks, heading for the wine cellar.
Tope reclines, crosses his legs and spreads his arms on the headrest. “Bring it on, Baby. Let us toast to our success. That shitty Nene and her family are going down. They won’t know what hit them.”
Wole smiles at him and winks. His lips form the word ‘yea’ but he doesn’t voice it.
Find out what these guys are up in the next episodes.