HE GAVE ME A RING — THEN GAVE HER THE WEDDING

Chapter 4 - The Wedding Date

After days of pretending that everything was fine, David finally broke the silence between us. We were sitting in his living room, the air scented with his favorite cologne and the faint hum of the TV in the background when he suddenly said,

“Babe, we need to pick a date for our wedding.”

For a moment, my heart leaped with joy. The words I had been waiting for finally came. Maybe I had been wrong all along. Maybe “L” really was just his cousin, and I had been torturing myself over nothing.

I turned to look at him. His face was calm, his smile warm—the same smile that used to melt every fear away. He reached for my hand and pulled me closer, his fingers brushing lightly over the ring he had placed there weeks ago.

“How about… September 15th?” he asked, his eyes searching for mine.

I hesitated for a second, not because of doubt, but because of the flood of emotions that came rushing in all at once. I nodded quickly, trying to suppress the grin spreading across my face. “That sounds perfect,” I said softly, hiding my excitement, so I wouldn’t look too eager or desperate.

He chuckled, tilting his head slightly as his thumb traced lazy circles on my palm. “You know, I can already see it,” he teased. “You walking down the aisle, everyone staring, and me wondering how I got so lucky.”

I laughed, a little shyly, and leaned into his chest. For the first time in a while, I allowed myself to relax—to imagine the wedding, the white dress, the music, and the beginning of a new life together.

We spent the rest of the evening talking about the future like everything was perfect. We joked about how many children we’d have.

“I want two,” I said, smiling at him. “A boy and a girl.”

“Two?” he laughed. “No way. I want five. Big family, lots of noise, a full house.”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Then you’ll be the one changing the diapers.”

He laughed again, pulling me closer. “Deal,” he said, and kissed my forehead.

That night, after he dropped me off at home, I couldn’t stop smiling. I sat on my bed, staring at the ring, thinking about everything—our wedding, our home, our life together. For the first time in weeks, I pushed away every doubt that had haunted me since the day I saw that message from “L.”

I grabbed my phone and dialed my best friend’s number. “Chioma,” I said excitedly the moment she picked up, “He fixed a date!”

There was a pause at the other end. I expected a scream or laughter or some loud reaction, but instead, I heard only silence. Then, slowly, her voice came—quiet, uncertain.

“Amara… I saw him today.”

I frowned, confused. “Where?”

“At the mall,” she said after a brief hesitation. “He was with a woman.”

I forced a small laugh, trying to brush it off. “That must be Lydia,” I said quickly. “His cousin, remember? She’s in town.”

There was another pause. And then Chioma’s voice, sharper this time.

“Cousin? Amara, they were holding hands.”

My heart stuttered. The room suddenly felt smaller. My hand tightened around the phone. “Maybe you saw wrong,” I said, but my voice sounded weak even to my own ears.

Chioma’s next words came like a blade cutting through my fragile calm.

“Amara, they kissed.”

For a long moment, I couldn’t speak. My throat went dry. I could hear the faint sound of my own breathing, uneven and shaky.

The phone nearly slipped from my hands. My mind was spinning, replaying her words over and over like an echo I couldn’t silence. They kissed.

All the laughter, the promises, the wedding plans—it all began to blur. The beautiful future I had built in my mind was suddenly trembling like a card house caught in the wind.

I tried to tell myself there had to be an explanation, but deep down, something cracked.

That perfect wedding date—the one that had filled me with so much joy just hours ago—now felt like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.