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“I wouldn’t marry without asking Jonah. Why would you say yes?” Tears spill down her face. “You knew I wasn’t in my right mind. We need to fix this. Please. Jonah would be livid.”

Her voice breaks as she pleads. “My brother will never agree to this. We have to fix this.”

Her eyes are wide with distress, on the edge of breaking. I stand and pull her into my arms, stopping her restless pacing. She trembles against me. I hold her until she settles.

“Is being married to me such a bad thing?” I whisper.

I have to ask. Her reaction is screaming hell on earth, while mine feels like heaven on earth. Are we the same two people who cannot keep our hands off each other and communicate with touch and eyes? I keep holding her as I wait for her response. There is no urgency for me to hear it immediately. As the minutes pass, the room settles into silence, broken only by the steady hum of the air conditioning.

“No, being married to you is not a bad thing.” She pulls away, letting out a heavy breath. “It’s just that my brother will not agree to this.”

Her voice is still shaky, but less panicked.

“The only reason he brought me to you is because our families are not close. I know he won’t accept this.” She takes my hand and squeezes it, holding my gaze. “That’s my fear, and I’m sorry if I made you feel bad. I’m just shocked, and I know my brother.”

I nod, watching her.

“But you are happy, and that matters too.” I remind

“It’s a beautiful ring. Thank you.” She lifts her hand, admiring it.

I nod.

She leans up and kisses my cheek. “Can I ask how I said my vows while under the influence of alcohol? I still can’t believe you let me drink that much.”

I exhale and move to my side of the bed to grab my phone. One day, I will admit that I knew she would not have gone through with it sober. Her reaction now proves that.

I return and play the video.

She watches, rolling her eyes at me a few times.

When it ends, she walks quietly into the living room. I follow and sit across from her, waiting.

“Why did you say yes?” she asks softly, like she is afraid of the answer.

“I said yes because, Onitemi, for the first time in my life, I saw a future I wanted more than anything else. With you. A woman I know is the love of my life. My soul wants you every day.”

She wipes a tear.

“I love you too, Bruce, but can we keep this between us for now?”

I do not respond. I just watch her.

“Can I take this off for now?” she asks, turning the ring on her finger.

“No. You can’t take it off,” I snap in a low, firm tone. Her eyes widen

“Bruce, please,” she pleads.

I shake my head.

“No. Jola, it is bad enough that you acted like marrying me was a death sentence, then you ask to keep us a secret and want to remove the ring like we do not exist.” My voice stays controlled, but the weight of my emotions is clear.

She stands from her seat and comes to kneel in front of me, cradling my face. I know my irritation is obvious; she can see it.

“I am sorry, Mr. Darcy, if I made you feel that way. I am just completely thrown off by the situation, and I know how Jonah will react to this. I cannot marry anyone without his permission. Last I checked, you two are not friends.”

Understanding settles in. I gaze at her disheveled hair, clean face, and swollen eyes, confirming I will take her in any state, even when she tries to keep us a secret.