THE BRIDE HE NEVER CHOSE

ENEMIES UNDER ONE ROOF

Blessing’s hand froze in midair, the phone still glowing. She looked up sharply. Rakeem stood at the doorway, his tall frame casting a long shadow into the room. His eyes were dark, piercing, and his jaw tightened like a man ready for battle.

“What are you hiding, Blessing?” he asked again, his voice low, steady, but carrying an edge that made her heart skip.

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Her chest rose and fell, her fingers trembling against the phone screen. “I… it’s nothing,” she whispered, forcing her voice to sound calm.

Rakeem stepped forward slowly, each movement deliberate, like a predator approaching its prey. He stopped a few feet away, his gaze fixed on her face.

“Nothing?” He gave a dry, bitter laugh. “So you sit up at midnight, clutching your phone like a thief, and you call that nothing?”

Blessing swallowed hard. “I was just… checking messages.”

“Messages from who?” His tone sharpened.

Her lips pressed together. She couldn’t tell him the truth. She couldn’t risk her family’s fragile peace. So she looked away, refusing to answer.

That silence was louder than words. Rakeem’s nostrils flared, his fists tightening at his sides. “Listen to me very well, Blessing,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “If you bring shame to my name, if you dare embarrass me in this city, I swear you will regret the day you walked into this mansion.”

Her eyes stung with tears, but she held them back. “I never asked to be here,” she murmured.

His head tilted, his eyes narrowing. “Neither did I. But here we are.” He turned sharply, heading for the door. Then he stopped, his back still to her. “From tomorrow, I’m moving to the west wing of this house. I don’t want to see your face unless it’s necessary. We live under the same roof, but as strangers. Do you understand?”

Blessing felt her knees weaken. His words cut deeper than a slap. “Yes,” she whispered, though her heart screamed inside her.

Without another glance, Rakeem walked out, slamming the door behind him. The sound echoed through her chest like thunder.

The next morning, the shift in the mansion was clear. Rakeem moved his things quietly, giving instructions to the maids without looking in Blessing’s direction. She stood by the stairs, watching as suitcase after suitcase disappeared into the west wing.

The house that already felt like a prison now became a battlefield two enemies under one roof, divided by walls but connected by bitterness.

At breakfast, the long dining table stretched between them like a river. Rakeem sat at one end, Blessing at the other. The clinking of cutlery was the only sound. Even the housemaids moved more carefully, sensing the tension.

Blessing forced herself to swallow spoonfuls of pap, but it tasted like chalk. Rakeem didn’t even touch his food. He scrolled through his phone with a frown, his lips pressed into a thin line.

When she couldn’t take the silence anymore, she spoke softly, “We can’t continue like this.”

His eyes flicked up, sharp and cold. “You think I’m enjoying it?”

Her heart sank. She had no reply.

Later that day, Blessing wandered through the mansion gardens, trying to clear her mind. The flowers bloomed brightly, but she felt no joy. The gardeners greeted her politely, but she barely nodded. She sat on a stone bench, pulling her knees to her chest, her thoughts heavy.

This wasn’t a marriage. It was a punishment. And every passing day, the distance between her and Rakeem stretched wider.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned, half-expecting Rakeem, but it was his younger sister, Mariam.

“Ahn ahn, Sister Blessing, why are you looking like somebody that just lost a fight?” Mariam teased gently, sitting beside her.

Blessing forced a small smile. “I think I lost more than a fight. I lost my freedom.”

Mariam studied her quietly. “My brother is stubborn, but he’s not a wicked man. Give him time. He doesn’t trust easily.”

Blessing’s eyes grew misty. “How do you trust a man who doesn’t even want you near him? He moved to the west wing, Mariam. He doesn’t want to see me at all.”

Mariam’s smile faded. “Hmm. That one is serious. But don’t lose hope, Sister Blessing. Sometimes, what looks like hatred is just pain in disguise.”

Blessing sighed, her heart heavy. She wanted to believe Mariam’s words, but the memory of Rakeem’s cold eyes last night made it hard.

Days turned into weeks. The routine became unbearable. They barely spoke. When visitors came, they pretended to be a perfect couple smiling, holding hands for the cameras, whispering sweet nothings that were nothing but lies. But once the guests left, silence returned.

Blessing found herself longing for Samuel more and more. His texts, his concern, his love, it was like a lifeline in the darkness. Yet every time she picked up her phone to reply, she remembered her father’s tears and forced herself to delete the words.

One evening, as she sat in her room, Mariam rushed in, breathless. “Sister Blessing! Come quickly!”

Her heart raced. “What happened?”

“It’s my brother. He collapsed in his office. They just rushed him into his room.”

Blessing’s eyes widened in shock. She jumped up and ran after Mariam.

When they entered, Rakeem lay on the bed, his face pale, his breathing shallow. The doctor was checking his pulse, frowning deeply.

Blessing’s chest tightened painfully. In that moment, all the anger, all the bitterness melted away. She forgot their fights. She forgot the cold walls between them. All she saw was her husband weak, vulnerable, and fighting for breath.

“Doctor, what is wrong with him?” she cried, gripping the man’s arm.

The doctor sighed. “He’s been overworking himself. Stress. High blood pressure. If he continues like this, it may kill him.”

Blessing’s knees wobbled. She looked at Rakeem, unconscious, his lips dry, his strong body now looking fragile. A wave of guilt washed over her.

She whispered, her voice trembling, “Rakeem… please don’t leave me. Not like this. Not when we haven’t even tried.”

At that moment, Rakeem stirred slightly, his eyelids fluttering open. His gaze landed on Blessing, and for the first time, she saw something different in his eyes. not anger, not hatred, but pain mixed with something softer.

His lips moved weakly. “Why… are you crying for me?”

Blessing’s tears fell freely as she held his hand. “Because even if you hate me, I don’t want to lose you.”