Rules of the Marriage

Tomiwa didn’t sleep.

How could she?

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Damola’s face when he said, “Don’t mistake that ring for love.”

The candles had burned out hours ago, but she remained on the edge of the bed, staring at the folded letter in her hands.

She finally unfolded it.

It wasn’t a love letter.

It wasn’t an apology.

It wasn’t even addressed to her.

At the top of the page was a simple heading.

Our Agreement

Her heart sank.

She forced herself to keep reading.

You will continue living as my wife in public.

You are free to pursue your career without interference.

You will have access to every financial resource you need.

Neither of us will embarrass the other publicly.

You will not enter my private office without permission.

You will not ask questions about matters I choose not to discuss.

When the arrangement is complete, I will explain everything.

There was no signature.

No date.

Nothing.

It looked more like a business contract than the beginning of a marriage.

Tomiwa crumpled the paper in frustration.

“What arrangement?”

She looked at the unknown message again.

He married you because of what your family has been hiding for twenty-six years.

Twenty-six years.

She was twenty-six.

Could the message be talking about her?

A knock interrupted her thoughts.

She froze.

The door opened slightly.

Damola stood there, fully dressed in a white shirt and black trousers as though he was preparing for work instead of waking up after his wedding night.

“I ordered breakfast,” he said calmly.

She stared at him.

“You slept?”

“For a few hours.”

“You must have a very peaceful conscience.”

He didn’t respond.

She walked closer until they were only a few steps apart.

“Who sent me that message?”

His expression didn’t change.

“What message?”

She held up her phone.

He glanced at the screen but didn’t take it.

“I’ve never seen it.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I expect you to decide what you want to believe.”

She almost slapped him.

Instead, she lowered her hand.

“I married a stranger.”

“You married someone who intends to keep you safe.”

She laughed.

“Safe from what?”

“I’ll tell you when I can.”

“There you go again.”

“When I can.”

“When the time is right.”

“What exactly are you hiding?”

He looked at her with the same unreadable expression.

“The less you know right now, the safer you are.”

She shook her head.

“I don’t even know if you’re lying anymore.”

A hotel attendant knocked and wheeled in breakfast.

Fresh fruit.

Coffee.

Pancakes.

Omelettes.

Everything looked perfect.

Neither of them touched the food.

The attendant sensed the tension immediately.

“Congratulations once again, sir and madam.”

Damola smiled politely.

“Thank you.”

The attendant left.

The smile disappeared.

Just like that.

Tomiwa watched the transformation.

“You’ve practiced this, haven’t you?”

“What?”

“Acting.”

He looked confused.

“The perfect fiancé.”

“The perfect husband.”

“The perfect gentleman.”

She folded her arms.

“Was any of it real?”

A long silence followed.

Finally, he answered.

“Some of it.”

That hurt even more.

By noon they checked out of the hotel.

Outside, photographers were already waiting.

One shouted, “Sir! Madam! One kiss before you leave!”

Damola looked at Tomiwa.

For a second, she wanted to refuse.

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to tell everyone the marriage was a lie.

Instead, she forced a smile.

Damola gently placed his hand around her waist.

The cameras flashed.

He kissed her forehead.

Everyone cheered.

“God bless your home!”

“Perfect couple!”

“If this isn’t true love, what is?”

Tomiwa smiled for the cameras.

Inside, she was breaking.

…

Their new home stood inside one of the quiet estates in Lekki.

Modern.

Beautiful.

Three floors.

A swimming pool.

Everything she had once dreamed about.

A housekeeper welcomed them.

“Welcome home, madam.”

Another staff member carried in their luggage.

She looked around.

“So everyone works for you?”

“They work for us now.”

She almost laughed.

Us.

There was no us.

Damola gave the staff quick instructions before turning to her.

“Your room is upstairs.”

She frowned.

“My room?”

“Yes.”

“What about our room?”

He hesitated.

“I think separate rooms will be better.”

She stared at him.

“You planned all this before the wedding.”

“Yes.”

The answer came too quickly.

She shook her head slowly.

“I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

He didn’t defend himself.

Instead, he handed her a small keycard.

“My office is on the ground floor.”

She remembered the agreement immediately.

You will not enter my private office.

Interesting.

A room she wasn’t allowed to enter.

She slipped the keycard into her handbag.

“If I enter your office, what happens?”

His eyes met hers.

“Please don’t.”

He walked away before she could ask another question.

…

That evening, Tomiwa called her best friend, Kemi.

The moment Kemi answered, she squealed.

“Mrs. Williams!”

Tomiwa forced a laugh.

“How’s honeymoon?”

“It’s… fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

“I’m just tired.”

Kemi lowered her voice.

“Did you people quarrel already?”

Tomiwa opened her mouth.

The truth almost came out.

Instead, she swallowed it.

“No.”

“You sure?”

“I’m okay.”

She ended the call after a few minutes.

She couldn’t bring herself to destroy the image everyone had of her marriage.

Not yet.

…

Around 9 p.m., she went downstairs for water.

The lights in the sitting room were off.

Only one light shone beneath the door of Damola’s office.

She stopped.

Someone was inside.

A woman’s voice drifted through the door.

Soft.

Calm.

“So she believes you?”

Damola answered quietly.

“Not anymore.”

Tomiwa’s heart stopped.

The woman sighed.

“This won’t end well.”

“It has to.”

“You should have told her before the wedding.”

“I couldn’t.”

There was another long silence.

Then the woman said something that made Tomiwa’s knees almost give way.

“The truth is going to destroy her more than the lie ever could.”

Tomiwa covered her mouth to stop herself from gasping.

Who was that woman?

Why was she inside the one room she wasn’t allowed to enter?

And what truth could possibly be worse than discovering her marriage was never real?

What secret do you think Damola is protecting, and who do you think the mysterious woman really is?

To be continued…