Chapter 5 - Ten Minutes
712 Words
The Lagos registry office smelled like old paper and ceiling fan air.
Adaeze sat on a plastic chair in the waiting area and watched a couple across from her holding hands so tightly their knuckles had gone pale. The woman was crying happy tears. The man looked like he might join her at any moment.
She looked away.
Emeka arrived at 10:02am.
He walked in the way he did everything. Like the room had been expecting him. Dark suit. No tie. A lawyer she did not recognize walking two steps behind him carrying a briefcase.
He saw her. Gave one small nod.
She stood.
They did not hug. Did not kiss. Did not do any of the things the crying couple across the room were doing. They simply stood next to each other in front of the registrar like two people completing a transaction.
Because that was what this was.
The registrar was a small cheerful woman who had clearly done this thousands of times and found joy in every single one. She beamed at them both.
"What a beautiful couple," she said warmly.
Adaeze smiled. Emeka said nothing.
The ceremony took nine minutes and forty seconds. Adaeze counted.
There were vows. She said them. He said them. His voice was steady and low and completely without emotion, the way a man reads out figures in a board meeting.
There was a moment where they were asked to face each other.
She turned and looked at him properly for the first time that morning. Up close in the cold registry light he looked different from the penthouse. Younger somehow. Or maybe just more human. There was a small scar above his left eyebrow she had not noticed before.
She wondered where it came from.
Then she stopped wondering because the registrar was saying something about rings.
They had not discussed rings.
Emeka reached into his jacket pocket and produced a ring. Simple. Elegant. A thin gold band with a small diamond that caught the light when he held it out.
He had thought of everything.
Of course he had.
She held out her left hand. His fingers were warm when they touched hers. She had not expected that. Somehow she had expected cold.
He slid the ring onto her finger.
It fit perfectly.
She did not want to think about how he had known her size.
Then it was done.
The registrar announced them married and clapped her small hands together with genuine delight.
Emeka's lawyer produced two copies of the marriage certificate immediately. Emeka signed both. Adaeze signed both. The lawyer collected them and was gone before the registrar had finished offering congratulations.
Outside on the steps the Lagos sun hit them both at once.
Emeka's driver was waiting at the bottom of the steps with the black car. His lawyer was already inside it talking on a phone.
Emeka turned to her.
"Dare will send you the moving details," he said. "You have the weekend to arrange your things. Monday morning the car will collect you at eight."
"Good morning to you too," she said.
Something moved in his eyes. Not quite amusement. Something adjacent to it.
"Good morning Adaeze."
It was the first time he had used her first name.
She did not know why that felt significant. She decided it did not feel significant. She decided that firmly.
"My mother," she said. "The healthcare arrangement."
"Already in motion. Her first appointment is Monday afternoon. Dare has the details."
She looked at him. This man who was now legally her husband. Who had organized her mother's healthcare before she had even asked him to confirm it. Who had a ring in his pocket that fit her finger perfectly.
"Thank you," she said. Because whatever this was, that deserved acknowledgment.
He nodded once. Moved toward the car. Stopped.
"Adaeze."
She looked up.
"Welcome to the arrangement," he said.
Then he got in the car and it pulled away into Lagos traffic and she was standing alone on the registry steps in the sunshine wearing a gold ring that fit perfectly and feeling like the ground beneath her feet had become something she no longer entirely recognized.
She looked down at the ring.
Chioma was going to absolutely lose her mind.
- Writer
