The Wedding Guest - I
This story is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are a figment of my imagination - most definitely inspired by God, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations, persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Inspired by Proverbs 7, and like my other stories, the characters have not been given any names.
“For she has been the ruin of many; many men have been her victims. Her house is the road to the grave. Her bedroom is the den of death.” - Proverbs 7:26-27 New Living Translation
THE WOMAN
She had planned for this day from the moment she received the invite to attend this wedding.
"Which mugu go be my victim?" She laughed as she put her killer wedding outfit on.
Male and female guests alike wouldn't miss the dress. She nicknamed the green dress her "jealousy-jealousy" dress because she would make the girls jealous and cause the guys to get jealous of one another. The knee-length dress was made for her petite frame; it was tight fitted and cut with a deep plunge line in front that stopped just beneath her rib cage and above her belly button. Her tanned caramel skin was further displayed in the back, with an even deeper plunge line that stopped on the small of her back; it was the exact part her victim would touch as he guided her to the dance floor later in the evening. Her natural hair was excellently styled in an up-do that made her look expensive, and her makeup was applied immaculately, with her eyeliner drawing attention to her mesmerising large brown eyes. She adorned herself with gold jewellery like Christmas lights on a Christmas tree. Her statement piece was a necklace with a lock and key pendant that rested on parts of her torso the fabric of her dress failed to cover. She glittered from head to toe, and everything about her was bold.
As she applied her final layer of lipstick, she remembered her mother. Her mother would maintain a look of disapproval and annoyance whenever the fashion shows on 'On The Beat Music TV' commented on "not bearing all and leaving something to the imagination." To her devout Christian mother, nothing would be or should be imagined if you dressed modestly. Mid lipstick application, she chuckled and shooed the memory of her mother away as she was used to doing on such occasions. Tonight, like the other times, it was all or nothing.
After putting on her black open-toe 'sexy' heels that instantly made her dress appear shorter, she picked up her clutch bag and looked at herself in the mirror one last time. She was ready. She was going to steal the show, kill it in this dress and destroy the dance floor - she just needed to find the right man to ensure all her efforts wouldn't go to waste.
THE MAN
He was the kind of guy who would go to the gym to lift weights and have someone capture his session on Snapchat; he loved himself, and it showed, and in the weeks leading to the wedding, he put in extra work to make sure he looked extra good, he wasn't the groom, but hey, the best man had to come correct right?
He was a chocolate brother, at five-eight, with broad athletic shoulders and a special shade of brown for eyes. He also had a good set of teeth, and people had always teased that he should model for Colgate. His dimple-generating smile was every girl's kryptonite, and he knew it. He knew very well that he was good-looking. For the wedding, he would sport his level one fade haircut, the kind that made him look worth knowing. It was his idea that the groomsmen all wore a dark blue velvet blazer with a white shirt and black bow tie, fitted black trousers and classic patent leather penny loafers for shoes. In typical Naija fashion, the outfit wasn't complete without being accompanied by vintage-styled black Ray-bans and a single-stone pinkie ring. He was Bella Naija ready for this wedding.
**
The wedding ceremony had gone well, his best friend was officially off the market, and he was happy for him; although the concept of marriage never appealed to him personally, he knew Nigerian weddings were the best. That was what he was looking forward to, the wedding reception, especially now that his official duties were done. He smirked at himself at the thought of what the night might entail.
THE WEDDING RECEPTION
"Now, ladies and gentlemen, we'd like to welcome the latest couple in town! Give them a big cheer as they enter!" The MC bellowed through the microphone. At his instruction, the guests went wild, howling, clapping and shouting congratulations in various mother tongues.
Following the bridal party's entrance, the bride and groom danced their way into the banquet hall that seated just about two hundred people. The room was decorated with such class. Ahead was the elegant stage with a table and a regal-looking white seat for the bride and groom. Behind the seats was a wall of white roses, accented with small Victoria Blue Myosotis Scorpioides, also known as "Forget-Me-Nots"—nobody would forget this wedding. The dimly lit room was celebrated with warm-toned mood lighting reminiscent of the sun setting. There were twenty round tables, each seating ten people. The tables were draped in expensive white linen and decorated with well-thought floral centrepieces that allowed guests to still see each other across the table.
The cheering had yet to stop as the bride and groom were still breaking it down in the middle of the dance floor. Every guest had their phones out, including that one aunty with her iPad struggling to capture the moment, and that's when she walked in through the side door passing the bar. For a moment, he had his eyes on the newlyweds, but he felt like he was being watched, he couldn't help but put his head up, and there she was, staring right at him. Chills ran down his spine; she was gorgeous, but that wasn't all. There was something about her that he couldn't figure out. He was sure she hadn't been at the ceremony because with a face and body like hers, there's no way he could have missed her. He struggled to avoid her gaze and tried to return to what seemed to be a dance battle between the bride and groom. From his brief glimpse, his best friend was definitely losing, and even in her unnecessarily big white dress, the bride owned the dance floor. He laughed at the sight before feeling uneasy. He looked up in the direction of the bar, and the girl was no longer there. He rubbed the back of his neck and forced himself to push his uneasiness aside, "Time for that drink."
ON THE DANCE FLOOR
It was that part of the evening that everyone was looking forward to. All the guests had eaten from the buffet counter full of well-prepared Nigerian delicacies, Jollof Rice, Fried Plantains, Ewa and Efo Riro, to name a few. A feast for Kings. The bar was no exception, offering all types of drinks and cocktails.
With his drink in his hand, leaning over the bar, he noticed a twinkle in his glass. Looking over his shoulder, he saw her standing next to him; it must have been her necklace reflecting in his glass. He thought her necklace was interesting, and as he continued to look at her, it felt like time had stopped, with the music and chatter also fading. She wasn't looking at him, but he was definitely looking at her.
"Is this what love at first sight feels like? This babe is fire!" He thought to himself.
"So are you just going to stare at me all night, or will you be a man and get me a drink?" She turned to him with a mischievous smile. "You seem like a man familiar with his spirits. Get me something you think I'd like." She was teasing him and stepped closer to whisper in his ear, "A drink, some small, then the dance floor, how does that sound?"
It took a few seconds for him to process what was going on. He had never met a woman so direct and confident, some may have even called her a bit brash, but he loved it. It's as if she had practised this speech because there was something about her that seemed prepared and ready for whatever.
The shock of her approach had mellowed slightly, so he decided to gain control of the situation because he still had his ego to protect. "Ahem! And nice to meet you too!" He held out his hand and flashed his award-winning smile. She looked at him and then at his stretched hand and offered him a sly smile while shaking his hand. Her smile was a smile of victory.
"I'm sorry." She said teasingly, "I have no manners. Nice to meet you, and you are?"
Had he blacked out or what, because the softness of her petite hand was out of this world! They were so soft that he forgot his name.
"Ermm..."
"Ok, Mr No Name. How about that drink?"
For the life of him, he didn't know why his mother's words came to him in an instant.
"My Small King, don't waste your time and strength chasing women about town o!! The trouble you'll face at the hands of these small-small girls is no small thing at all. Remember, it isn't for Kings like you to get drunk on wine and all these alcoholic concoctions. That's how you'll now go and forget who you are. Se you heard me?" - Proverbs 31:2-7
This wasn't the time for his mother's words to echo in his mind. He'd been drinking all day! Why now? Now he would need another drink for her voice to go away. "Not today! Definitely not today."
As she foretold, they sat at a table to engage in some small talk speaking for what seemed like forever, it was a mere five minutes, and they mostly talked about nothing.
"So you're a friend of the bride?"
"Yes, I am." She said bluntly, now seeming uninterested. Maybe he wasn't the guy she was looking for.
"So you're single, yeah? I heard you shout when the MC asked all the single ladies to come out to catch the bouquet. You're into that marriage stuff?" He caught her attention again.
"Marriage stuff." She repeated while giggling and shaking her head. "So you noticed me? Good. As for me being single, just between you and I, I am as single as you need me to be tonight." She smirked seductively.
He choked on his drink a little bit at her statement. He liked her courage, although he was beginning to find it a bit intimidating. He didn't know how to follow up on that statement, but he continued. "Is that right? You know, you look gorgeous in that dress."
"You compliment me as if I don't already know I look stunning. I wore this dress for you if it'll make you feel any better." Her sly smile came back again, implying all sorts of things.
"But we don't know each other. How could you have possibly dressed for someone you've never met? You're a strange one, but I like you." He grinned hard because he knew the night would be wild, just as he liked it.
While he continued to laugh at the fantasies in his mind, she looked at him intently, as if searching for his soul. It scared him only for a moment, but he concluded that it must be the alcohol. He flashed his smile again, hoping it would put him at ease.
Seeing that he seemed unsettled, she quickly leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "Now, this is the time you ask me out to the dance floor like the gentleman you are." He did as instructed, still smiling, but to prove that he was in control, he stood up and offered his hand to assist her as she stood. Then he occupied the space next to her on her left and placed his right hand on her lower back. She gasped quickly and beamed.
They danced all night as if they were the only two people in the world, though their conversation remained shallow. As they flirted, some of the bridesmaids had caught on to her game.
"See what she's doing now! This girl is a mess, I tell you!! Hmm!"
"Oh my gosh! No way! Do you know this girl?"
"See her dress sef!"
"A particular Chris Brown song comes to mind. Something about loyalty." They all laughed, some rejecting that they should ever call such a girl their friend.
She whispered in his ears, "I think the bridesmaids are talking about me."
He stood back mid-dance, consumed her with his eyes until he was full, and drew her close again. "They're jealous of you, that's all. They wish I were dancing with them."
Knowing they had an audience, they giggled and flirted all the more, caressing each other as if they had known one another for years. An unknowing eye would have thought they were the newlywed couple.
"I'm thirsty. Would you like something to drink?"
"I thought you'd never ask. Something strong, surprise me!" She replied. He was barely at the bar to place their order when a few guys approached him and seeing them, he acknowledged them with his cheeky grin.
The men huddled together, resting against the bar to get the update. One groomsman, unable to wait, asked, "Oh boy!! How did you get her to speak to you? We know you have game! But dang!! This one be another level o. Bro!" The groomsman gave "Mr No Name" a congratulatory pat on his back as another friend added to the ego-boosting session.
"Bro! How are you going to handle all of that, na? Just be careful because if you can't handle her, make I help you small." This particular "friend" was jealous, and he thought, "at every wedding, this dude gets one babe or two! Who does he think he is? I can't stand him and his annoying smile!"
"Fellas! My brothers! Please step back and watch a real player do his thing. Take notes if you have to because this will be the first and last time I show you how I work. Now, if you don't mind, let me go and meet this babe with her drink before one of you decides to snatch her from me." With a drink in their hands, the men all laughed stupidly, cheering as he walked away.
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
He made his way to the dance floor but couldn't find her. The dance floor had suddenly crowded in the little time he went to the bar and returned.
Drinks in hand, he made his way outside to the adjacent rooftop patio of the banquet hall. Several guests had gone out for fresh air and to take pictures of the city skyline as the sun began to set. Scanning the area, he spotted her in the distant corner with her back facing him. He noticed that she was on the phone, and the conversation seemed heated, telling by her body language. He allowed her a few more seconds on the phone before approaching her. At the same time, she ended her call, turning around to head back into the hall, and for a split second, he saw fear in her eyes.
"Oh, I didn't see you there. Thanks for the drink." She hastily took a glass from him and drank its content in one go.
"Hey. Are you ok?" He asked, concerned.
She placed her now empty glass on a cocktail table nearby and grabbed his glass to do the same then, without warning, she threw her arms around him. The action was so sudden! Had she been a wrestler, he would have thought she would put him in a headlock, he felt trapped, but before he could gather himself, she kissed him. Hard.
There was nothing romantic about the kiss. On the contrary, the kiss had been filled with so much lust and what tasted like hatred. He could have sworn he was being poisoned. He couldn't explain it, but that's what it felt like, and he couldn't stop her. No, he could have, but he didn't want to.
A few seconds after, she stepped back slightly, leaving him no room to run. "Listen, I've been praying to meet someone like you, and it seems that my time at church is finally paying off. You are an answered prayer, and I know many ways I'd like to thank you. I'm sure you've heard what they say about us church girls?" Her tone commanded his attention as she laughed as if celebrating something. But, on the other hand, he was mute because the kiss silenced him just as her soft hands had done earlier, and he remained so as she continued to speak.
"Remember when you asked me if I was single?"
He nodded in response, searching for his voice, concluding that giving her rum to drink wasn't a good idea.
"Well, I'm nowhere near single. I'm actually very, very married." She gave him a look, almost daring him to object. He was about to say something when she put her index finger on his lips to stop him from responding now that he had found his voice.
"Listen. My husband is away for a church event with a few of our church leaders, and based on the call I just had with him, he won't be back anytime soon. Much to my pleasure, I'm too tipsy to drive home this evening, and being the wise woman I am, I already have a room booked downstairs. Fine men like you always regret dismissing invitations from amazing women like me, so don't spoil the evening by telling me you won't join me tonight because I know we've both anticipated this moment. The room is amazing, you'll love it, and the mini-bar is well stocked." He was still mute as she continued, "I won't ask you whether you're coming or not; I know you will. After all, you need a story to tell the guys, right?" She motioned to have him turn his head; the guys and some bridesmaids were looking at them from the banquet hall.
They turned and smiled at each other as if they had both won prizes.
"Meet me when you're ready. I'm on the sixth floor, room 606." She said, slipping her key into his pocket and kissing him again before walking away.
IT WAS ALL A…
Oluwasegun woke up in a cold sweat, panting hard. He was frightened. This same dream had disturbed his sleep week after week since the wedding. He wished he had never set his eyes on this woman.
He searched for his phone and dialled a familiar number thanking God that his mother would still be up, probably praying or something.
"My Small King! Hope all is well that you're calling so late?"
"Yes, Ma, everything is..." he wanted to lie but thought better of it. "No, Ma. Everything isn't ok. I... I need you to pray for me."
His mother put her phone on the loudspeaker as she called for his father to listen in before making his prayer request known. Oluwasegun recounted the events of Chidi and Morayo's wedding reception and his recurring dreams of this woman. Oluwasegun was broken, knowing that his mother, in particular, was disappointed because she had always advised him against the very thing that caused his sleepless nights.
**
"In Jesus' Name, we have prayed. Amen." His father's deep pastoral-like voice ended the prayer and then continued.
"Segun, my son. Things will be fine, we've prayed, you have no reason to feel guilty or be afraid, but now it's up to you to turn from the lifestyle that got you here in the first place. It's time you turn to Christ for yourself. Confess your wrongdoings to Him, and with His help, you won't get caught up in such situations again. If you can do this, you'll be free to have the best sleep you've ever had." - John 5:14; 8:10-11
His parents laughed at the last statement, hoping to lighten the mood. Still, Oluwasegun barely let out a chuckle, so instead, he greeted them goodnight after expressing his thanks for their prayers.
Oluwasegun's father was the comedian in the family but often spoke the truth in his punch lines. He knew what his father had said was true, and accepting that he wouldn't get much sleep again, Oluwasegun decided that the best thing to do was pray for himself. Trembling and exhausted, he knelt by his bedside and mentioned the name of a friend he hadn't spoken to in a long while.
"Jesus, I need help. I need Your help."