{The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall}đź’š
Sophia's POV
Adenike's husband, habib explained to me that his friend, the supposed to be groom was too busy and currently not even around to search for a bride, too busy to even make preparations for a wedding. The conversation dragged on, and the outcome of that meeting, you already know.
No introduction, No family meeting, No courting , No blind date. Everything is missing in the order, except this. A wedding. As insane as it sounds, I am not bothered about the missing dots, just the least of my worries.
The only familiar face at my wedding is Adenike's. My siblings have no idea about my wedding. And I know they will have a rope around my neck if they ever find out. And definitely, my parents are absent. They've always been absent.
Although I am goddamn sleepy during the ride, I never dozed. My eyes are shut most of the time, sometimes when I open my tired eyes, I watch the views of the road through the deep tinted window of the car that makes the images appear darker than they already are, making me more jaded. A few passersby, whose dress up I rate, different buildings, other various vehicles few of which number plates I can recall, and lots of trees. I am awfully bored.
The limousine rolls to a stop. Khalid is already out of the car before I fully opened my eyes.
Lifting my head out of the limousine, a grandeur appeared before me. My eyes widen momentarily as the mansion looms above, it giant spires piercing the night sky. The facade gleamed with a warm honey colored stone adorned with intricate carving that seemed to dance in the fading light of the day. Magnificent is an understatement. ' Did we loose our way into a palace?'
" This way ma'am" The female escort says politely, pulling me out of my reverie.
Khalid is already several steps ahead of me without a glance back. I glare at his retreating figure displeased at his inconsideration. I gently pick on my gown to avoid tripping on the hem and I walk behind him at my own comfortable pace.
An inexplicable sensation trickled down my spine as I take in the opulence of the mansion. Is this it? My new home. I let my thoughts flow as I move forward. I can't help but wonder what secrets these high walls hold, what stories they will tell if they can speak.
I don't like this place> Leila mutters flatly in my head.
" It's beautiful." Aziza counters.
< Looks like a perfect place for murder> Leila shifts into her detective mode.
A guard in uniform opened the massive door. "Welcome home, Mrs. Komolafe" I make an abrupt pause in my tracks as the words slice like a jolt of electricity, zapping through my body.
The guard's words sounds like a whispered warning in my ears, telling me to run away, as far as possible, anywhere but this place and never return.
Leila cringes and the smile of Aziza is dubious. They both went silent.
I stare at the space between the opened giant doors, my heart heavy with uncertainty on whether I should proceed or listen to the warning ringing in my ears. I clutch my gown hard, moving forward, the sound of my heartbeat louder than my shoes. I have come too deep to back out now.
< Great! We're going to die. We're all going to be butchered with a gigantic saw. And no one will ever know!.> Leila panicks, chewing at her nails profusely.
Behind the door reveals a cavernous hallway that seem to stretch on forever. The elaborate and breathtaking architectural decors are of simple elements and very refined. The rectilinear curves of the celling, the clean lines of the walls with gentle and restrained colors. The grand foyer boasts a sweeping staircase that curves like a swan's neck, its banister adorn with fancy carvings of leaves and flowers. The floors are made of polished marble that reflect the lights like a mirror.
I have to admit, this place is an awe-inspiring beauty. A sophisticated masterpiece inside out. I realise the female escort has stopped following me.
I let my finger touch the lush green plants and fresh flowers in vases that stand on pedestal, which add a pop of color to the space, their delicate petals and leaves a testament to the careful attention of the mansion's gardener. Their stems beautifully arranged to create a stunning display of beauty and elegance. There are plenty exquisite of artworks, on the walls in fine strokes and elaborate frames, all added an overall sense of luxury.
Something is clear, I married a rich ass. Leila can't seem to close her mouth, her unblinking gaze filled with astonishment.
The more I continued to gaze around the room, the more I feel enchanted. Somehow, I have forgotten my hidden fears, the beauty of this unknown place has bewitched me, pulling me in more depths I never intend.
And yet despite the grandeur, the space feels strangely empty, as if it is waiting for something or someone to bring it to life.
I keep scanning the rest of the room, until my eyes meet with Khalid's. I feel a knock of surprise, of awareness at the contact. His eyes piercing and intense as if he can see right through me, the core of my being. It seems he has been watching me for a while.
The distance between us shrink, despite the large translucent glass-wall between us. He sits behind the grand dinning table that can accommodate fourteen individuals, his expression unreadable, posture regal and imposing. He strike the image of a king surveying his kingdom. His presence dominates, even his silence speaks.
For a moment we just stare at each other, more like my gaze is trapped in his, and the air is thick with tension. The room grows quieter as if the very atmosphere is holding its breath.
Finally, Khalid's deep, voice cuts through.
" If you're done looking around, come take a sit." The words are simple, but the way he says them doesn't sound like an invitation, it make me feel like I am being summoned.
And I am done looking!
< See he even his voice screams serial killer.> Leila is back at being a prick in the ass.
Still, my feet move. Khalid gaze does not leave mine as I start to approach him. I feel a mix of emotion; apprehension, old and new curiosity and a hint of wariness. Khalid ooze of confidence and control that voice, his piercing eyes fix on me like a magnet, I feel like an artifact under scrutiny.
Who is this man really? What is he thinking? Why does he seem so distant, not like I've known him but he's just so withdrawn. And what does he want from me? Now I feel like I'm walking into a trap.
I walk up the stairs to be on the same level of floor as him. Our unbreaking eye contact seizes when he briefly glance at the chair at the far end, opposite where he sits, then he meets my eyes again. I pause a dead look on him in return, there is no particular reason why I don't look away. Maybe because we are not more than ten metres apart, I feel like I am drowning in the depth of his eyes. Something in them pull me in, but definitely not what I can find on the surface. And the beneath is too dark to search.
What can It be?
He has already taken off his suit which is now draped behind the chair he sits on. The material of his white shirt fits to his built body so damn well that every outline of what's underneath is detailed.
Before my hand can reach the chair, it moves. I turn my head to my right to see a woman probably in her late thirties or early forties withdrawing back.
I let out a low sigh and take off my gloves. I sit directly facing my husband, the stranger.