David Okoro was the kind of man people prayed for.

He was calm, gentle, hardworking, and above all, kind.

At just 32 years old, David had built a small tech company in Inugu.

He named it Okoro Systems.

He started it from his one room apartment after NYSC.

Now he had 10 staff and three offices, one in Enugu, one in Rivers, and one in Abuja.

People called him the quiet genius.

But David didn’t like noise.

He liked peace.

He liked family.

He liked doing the right thing.

Even with all his money and success, David was still humble.

He still visited his mother every Sunday after church.

He still picked his younger cousin from school when his uncle was busy.

He still gave his old secondary school money to fix their broken computers.

But there was one thing missing in David’s life.

Love.

David met her on a rainy Friday in Logos.

He had gone for a tech conference in Victoria Island.

After the event, his friend Fei dragged him to a boutique to buy shirts.

That’s where he saw her.

Her name was Genevie of Adabio.

She wore a yellow gown.

Her smile was full of sunshine.

Her nails were painted baby pink and her voice was soft like music.

She helped David pick a shirt.

Then they talked and talked and talked.

They exchanged numbers.

That night, David didn’t sleep.

He kept replaying her laugh in his mind.

Something about her touched him.

She was beautiful, but not just outside.

She sounded real.

The next day, she texted him.

He smiled at his phone for 10 minutes.

2 weeks later, they went on their first date.

Being a Laros resident and daughter of the soil, Genevieve was the one in charge of planning their first date.

She took him to a small amala spot in Suruleer.

David laughed because he expected a fancy restaurant, but she said, “Rich men always eat in big places.

Let’s just be normal today.

” He liked that.

Over time, they became close.

David sent her flowers on her birthday.

She surprised him with a handmade bracelet.

She texted him every morning.

“Good morning, my person.

” His heart began to open.

He told her about his fears, his past, his hopes.

She listened.

And when he finally told her, “I think I’m falling for you.

” She smiled and replied, “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.

” Genevieve worked as a sales rep in a boutique.

Her salary wasn’t much, but David didn’t care.

He liked her spirit.

She was bold, sharp, and carried herself with pride.

One day, she told him her dream to open her own fashion store.

David promised to help, and he did.

He gave her money to start a small online business.

6 months later, David told his parents about her.

His mother was happy.

His father was curious.

“You’re a bug girl?” he asked.

David nodded.

“She is a kind and lovable person.

I’m sure you will like her.

You both know I have always believed in love.

Not just any love, but the kind that could join two different people, two different families, even two different tribes,” he said.

And his parents trusted his judgment.

And when they finally met Genevieve, they saw why.

She smiled at everyone.

She served them food with both hands.

She was very respectful and well-mannered.

She even called David’s little niece princess.

Everyone said they were perfect together.

On Instagram, their pictures looked like a movie.

People commented, “God, when my dream couple, you both look so good together.

” But there were signs, little signs, small things that didn’t feel right.

Sometimes Genevieve joked about how David was lucky to have her.

Sometimes she complained about David’s village accent in front of her friends.

Once she laughed and said, “Don’t worry.

When I marry you, I’ll change your wardrobe completely.

” David laughed too, but it stayed in his chest.

One day he overheard her telling her friend, “David is sweet, Sha, but I can’t wait for him to open a shop for me in Leki.

Boutique life is not for me anymore.

” He ignored it.

“Love makes you blind.

” David told himself it was nothing and so he continued loving her, planning the wedding, dreaming of their future.

The proposal was everything Genevieve had dreamed of.

It happened on her birthday.

David took her to a quiet restaurant on a rooftop in Abuja.

The breeze was soft.

The lights were golden.

A violinist played her favorite song.

David got down on one knee holding a small velvet box in his hand.

Genevieve gasped.

Then she laughed.

Then she cried.

And then she said, “Yes.

” The next day, their photos were all over social media.

She held out her hand, showing off the sparkling ring.

“My person,” she wrote in the caption.

“God did.

Everyone was happy.

” David’s friends called to congratulate him.

His mother thanked God.

His father nodded slowly and said, “Just make sure she respects our people and respect her people, too.

” David smiled.

She will, Papa.

She already does, and I will, too.

But that wasn’t completely true.

The traditional engagement was held in Lagos first to honor Genevie’s Yoruba roots.

David made sure her family was treated with respect.

He came with his uncles, cousins, and elders.

They wore matching George rappers, and brought gifts, yams, drinks, cloth, jewelry, and a full suitcase of cash for the bride price.

Genevie’s father accepted it with a smile.

The drummers played, the women danced, and David smiled the whole time.

Even when he noticed that Genevieve barely spoke to his mother, even when she hissed when his aunt asked her to greet the elders properly, he told himself it was nothing.

After all, weddings are stressful.

When it was time for the Igbo side, David’s family organized a small ceremony in a number.

They invited Genevie’s family to their village.

David’s mother cooked bitter leaf soup and ore akul.

His uncles arranged for palm wine.

They slaughtered a goat.

But Genevieve wasn’t impressed.

She poked the fufu with her fork, whispered to her sister, “Why is everything swimming in oil?” When David’s cousin, Ugosi, brought her roasted yam, Genevieve laughed, and said, “Please, I’m not a village girl.

” David heard it.

Everyone did.

He smiled awkwardly and changed the subject.

That night, his mother looked at him.

Are you sure this girl will fit into our family? David nodded.

She just needs time, mama.

She’ll come around.

As the wedding date approached, things moved fast.

Genevieve insisted the wedding be held in Abuja, not Inugu, not Lagos.

She said it was neutral ground and more classy.

David agreed.

She wanted a lavish wedding, big venue, five outfit changes, two cakes, one to represent Igbo culture, one Yoruba.

She wanted celebrity decorators, a famous MC, and the trending saxophonyist from Instagram.

David said yes to everything.

Even when the bills started climbing, even when his father called him aside and asked, “Are we throwing a wedding or buying a mansion?” David laughed, “Don’t worry, Papa.

Let her enjoy.

It’s not like I cannot afford it.

” He ignored the little things.

When she told the planner, “Noiggbo food at the reception, please.

just Amala, Ephorro, and Jolof.

I don’t want guests complaining about weird soups.

David heard, but he said nothing.

He told himself it wasn’t important.

He told himself, “Marriage is about patience.

” He told himself, “She loves me.

That’s what matters.

” But something in his heart felt uneasy, like he was walking into something he didn’t fully understand.

Still, he kept walking.

Because love makes you believe what you want to believe.

Meanwhile, the wedding was just one day away.

Everyone had arrived in Abuja.

Family, friends, vendors, church workers.

The hotel, where both families were lodged, buzzed with activity.

There were clothes everywhere, bags, flowers, phones ringing, laughter, instructions flying left and right, hairdressers, makeup artists, tailor.

It was a full house.

David sat in the lounge area downstairs with his best friend Fei, going through the final schedule for the next day.

He was calm, focused, ready.

The rings were tucked safely inside a pouch.

He had triple-checked everything.

“Guy, you aren’t even panicking.

” Femi teased.

“You sure you are the groom?” David smiled.

“I’ve waited too long for this.

I just want to see her walk down the aisle and say yes.

” But upstairs, things weren’t as smooth.

David’s mother, Mama Okoro, had spent the last few hours moving between the bride’s room and the kitchen staff.

She wanted to help, wanted to make sure Genevieve’s people had everything they needed, but something kept bothering her.

Each time she looked at Genevieve, something felt off.

The girl smiled.

Yes.

She posed for selfies.

She answered calls.

She laughed with her bridesmaids.

But when she thought no one was looking, her face changed.

She looked tired, uninterested, like someone going through the motions.

At one point, Mama Okoro touched her gently and said, “My daughter, you don’t seem excited.

” Genevieve forced a laugh.

“Oh, mommy, I’m just tired.

All these preparations, but the answer didn’t feel real.

” Later that evening, David brought some fruits and soft drinks to the bridal suite.

The door was slightly open.

He paused for a moment about to knock.

Then he heard voices.

Genevieve and two of her friends, Tola and Beey, were laughing inside.

“Babe, you have finally bagged this tech millionaire,” one of them said, giggling.

Genevieve laughed.

“Please leave me.

” “Don’t lie,” the other friend added.

“From boutique sales girl to ley wife, I tap into this miracle.

” David smiled to himself.

girl talk and he shouldn’t be eavesdropping, he thought.

He knocked, walked in and they all straightened up.

Genevieve ran to him and hugged him.

“Oh, see my baby,” she said sweetly.

The girls greeted him too, wide smiles on their faces.

He gave her the drinks, kissed her forehead, and left.

Downstairs, Fei was waiting with Suya.

“Everything set?” David nodded.

She looks tired, but she’s okay.

She should be happy.

She’s marrying the best man in the world.

David laughed.

You want to collect my title? They both laughed.

But David’s mind was somewhere else.

He didn’t like what he had heard upstairs.

Not because the words were bad, but because of how the laughter sounded.

It didn’t sound like excitement.

It sounded like a joke.

Like he was the joke.

Still, he shook it off.

It was normal for women to hype their friend.

Normal for girls to say things at weddings.

Normal for emotions to be mixed.

He told himself, “Stop overthinking.

” He focused on the wedding checklist again.

The suits, the music, the vow exchange.

Tomorrow was the big day.

And David told himself again, “She loves me.

That’s what matters.

” Just a few hours before the wedding, the church was already decorated.

White and gold everywhere.

Fresh flowers lined the aisle.

The choir had arrived early.

The cameramen were setting up their tripods.

Guests in lace and glittering asoi were taking pictures in front of the photo wall.

Everything looked perfect.

A wedding fit for a king and queen.

David stood near the altar, adjusting his collar, smiling politely as well-wishers greeted him.

His uncle slapped his back, laughing.

Today is your day, my son.

He nodded, smiled again, but inside his stomach turned.

“I need to ease myself,” he whispered to the coordinator and stepped outside.

“A hotel, the hallway was quiet.

Everyone from his side had already left for the church.

Only the bride and her ladies were getting ready to move.

David walked quickly toward the restroom.

He didn’t even take the elevator.

He climbed the stairs.

The nerves were catching up with him.

After relieving himself, he made his way back to the stairs.

That was when he passed by the bridal suite.

The door wasn’t shut all the way.

Laughter floated out loud and careless.

He paused.

Then he heard it.

Please, please, let me enjoy this money first.

Genevieve’s voice rang out clear.

After one year, I’ll be done.

You think I came to this world to suffer? The other girls burst into laughter.

I swear.

One of her friends said, “I don’t know how you’re managing.

You don’t even like Igbo men.

Genevieve laughed again.

Can you sincerely believe I will marry one for love? This one even has an accent.

I swear if not for the money, I would never.

But I’ll endure.

I just need him to open a proper fashion house for me within the year.

Dio is already begging me to come back.

I’ll sort myself and bounce.

Another voice jumped in quickly.

Wait, wait, Dio.

The same Dio that cheated on you? Genevieve replied with a sigh.

He has changed.

I know it.

I still love him.

I’ve always loved him.

This marriage is just a stepping stone.

David stood frozen.

His hand touched the wall to steady himself.

His breath caught in his throat.

His ears rang.

His family.

Genevieve continued.

Bush people.

Honestly, that mother of his always talking about village this tradition that I can’t wait to move to Leki and breathe fresh air.

David’s eyes filled with tears.

He stepped back.

One step, two, three.

Then he turned and walked away slowly, trying not to make a sound.

Outside the church building behind the flower truck, David stood alone.

His hands were shaking.

He stared at nothing.

His mind couldn’t form full thoughts.

The woman he was about to marry, the woman he loved, had just ripped his heart into pieces without knowing he was listening.

He pulled out his phone and called Fei.

Guy, he whispered.

David, bro, where are you? People are waiting for you.

I heard everything.

Wait.

Heard what? Genevieve.

She doesn’t love me.

She’s marrying me for my money.

She called my family bush people.

She wants to divorce me after one year and she’s still in love with her ex.

Femi was silent.

David wiped his face.

She said all this.

Femi.

She said clearly.

Jesus.

Femi muttered.

Where are you? Behind the church.

I needed to breathe.

Calm down.

We need to think.

Don’t do anything yet.

Just wait for me.

David nodded even though no one could see him.

I’m not walking into that church.

Not like this, Fei.

I can’t.

I’m coming.

David ended the call and looked at the sky.

The sun was shining bright, but for him, everything felt dark.

The perfect love story he thought he had had just shattered into dust.

He sat under the mango tree behind the church, still trying to hold himself together.

When Fei finally found him, Femi didn’t speak at first.

He just sat beside his friend, placed his hand on his back, and waited.

David’s eyes were red, his hands were cold, his face was blank.

After a moment of silence, David whispered, “I wasn’t even looking for anything.

I just wanted to use the restroom.

Then I passed the room and I heard them.

” Femi turned slowly.

“Heard what exactly?” David inhaled, his voice quiet and bitter.

She said she’s marrying me for the money.

She called my family bush people.

Said she’s still in love with her ex.

Is it Dio or something and wants to divorce me after 1 year? Femi’s face tightened.

She said all that.

This is so unbelievable.

Being a Euroba man myself, I am ashamed.

And her friends were laughing, cheering her on.

Femi clenched his jaw.

God, I swear, David, this girl is a devil.

After everything you’ve done for her, you paid her rent, helped her start a business, gave her respect, love, and this is what you get.

David looked down.

I don’t even know what to do.

Call it off, Fei said quickly.

Let’s shut it all down now, but I must add, don’t let one bad egg spoil your mind.

Yuruba girls are very nice and loving.

David looked down.

H at this point, I don’t even know what to think.

Femi patted his shoulders gently.

Let’s just teach this bad egg a lesson for making my tribe look bad.

David shook his head slowly.

If I cancel it just like that, she’ll twist the story.

Her family will pretend like nothing happened.

Everyone will think I just changed my mind at the altar.

She’ll keep her image.

I’ll look like the bad one.

Fei looked at him.

So, what are you thinking? David wiped his face with his palm.

I want people to know the truth.

Not for drama, but for dignity.

I want her to face what she did with proof.

Femi thought for a moment, then nodded slowly.

Okay, then we do it smart.

A few minutes later, Femi dressed in jeans and a polo and went back to the hotel with a camera hanging on his neck.

He walked into the bridal suite and smiled at Genevieve and her friends.

Hey ladies, just want to get some fun shots for the wedding vlog behind the scenes, you know.

Mr.

videographer, we don’t have time.

People are already in church waiting for us and the service is about to start.

One of the ladies cut in.

I promised this wouldn’t take long and the guests can wait.

After all, they are here for the bride,” Fei added quickly.

They laughed and posed.

“Let’s do something fun,” Femi suggested.

“How about you pretend to be future Genevieve one year into the marriage, living a soft life, balling rich wife things?” They screamed and clapped.

Let’s pretend she already got her lucky mansion.

They all started acting.

Genevieve picked up a wine glass and raised her hand.

Cheers to soft life.

I endured his accent and village family for 12 months.

Now I’m free.

Femi laughed along with them, pretending it was all jokes.

But as the girls kept acting, the tone started changing.

Genevieve twirled her scarf dramatically.

I can finally stop eating that bitter soup.

No more of a what? What do they even call that mess? Her friend shouted.

Oh, feak.

They burst into laughter.

Genevieve sat back and crossed her legs.

Now I can find a real man, a proper guy, not this one with his bush background and thick Igbo tongue.

I swear his family is like a Nollywood movie.

Femi stayed quiet.

Inside his pocket, a small voice recorder was already running.

He checked his phone, then stood up casually.

“Let me go catch up with the coordinator.

I’ll be back.

” “No wahala,” they said.

They thought he had left, but he didn’t go far.

He stood silently in the hallway, waiting.

The door was still open just a little.

The recorder, hidden under a makeup bag on the table, kept capturing everything.

Genevieve leaned forward, still in character, but clearly speaking her truth.

“Anyway, I just need the papers to be clean.

I’ll act sweet for a while.

Get the shop, enjoy the money, then I’m gone.

” Dia was waiting for me.

her friend asked again.

“But babe, isn’t Dio still dodgy? You caught him with your colleague.

” “Oh, that’s Stella.

” Genevieve smiled.

He was confused.

“But he’s back now, and I love him.

Always have.

David was just someone sent my way to elevate me, and I will discard him once he has served his purpose.

” Femi closed his eyes, pressed his lips together, then quietly walked away.

30 minutes later, he met David behind the hotel.

“I got it,” Femi said.

David looked at him, eyes tired but focused.

“Everything? Everything.

” They didn’t hug, didn’t smile, just looked at each other with quiet understanding.

David’s heart was broken.

But now he had what he needed, the truth.

He stood near the parking lot, away from the noise of the arriving guests, holding his phone tightly.

His chest was still heavy, but his mind had settled into something clear, something firm.

He dialed his mother first.

“Mama, please come outside, both of you.

I need to talk to you.

” Within minutes, his parents came out from the side door of the church.

His mother looked slightly worried, holding her wrapper tightly around her waist.

His father walked beside her, adjusting his cap.

“David, what is it?” his mother asked.

“We were just sitting.

The bride is about to enter.

Everyone is looking for you.

Why are you still outside? You’re late.

David didn’t smile.

He didn’t move.

His father narrowed his eyes.

My son, what is going on? David took a deep breath and told them everything.

He told them what he heard, what Fei recorded, what Genevieve planned, everything.

By the time he finished, his mother had gone silent.

His father’s jaw was tight.

His father turned immediately.

We’re going back inside.

This wedding is not holding.

We’ll stop it now.

I will speak to the pastor myself.

But Mama Okoro placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder and said gently, “Wait, let him expose her when everyone is watching.

” David looked at her.

“Mama,” she nodded.

“You are not a coward.

You are not a fool.

Let her be ashamed in the same place she planned to destroy you.

Let everyone hear her own words.

His father was still angry, but he nodded slowly.

Whatever you decide, we stand with you.

David looked at them.

Two people who raised him with love, honesty, and pride.

And he felt strength returned to his chest.

“You deserve respect,” his mother said firmly.

“And love.

Real love.

If she couldn’t give you that, then she doesn’t deserve you.

David didn’t cry.

He just nodded once slowly.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

Then he straightened his shoulders.

He wasn’t going into that church to be joined.

He was going in to speak the truth.

The church was full.

There was no space left.

Some guests had to stand by the walls, fanning themselves and adjusting their gels and feler caps.

The decorations were perfect soft white drapes, golden flowers, candles, ribbons, everything shining under the gentle lights.

The choir sang a calm love song as the bride prepared to walk in.

People whispered to one another, smiling and holding their phones.

The atmosphere felt like a fairy tale.

David stood at the front, dressed in his black suit, still and silent.

The room was filled with joy, but he felt none of it.

He looked at the faces of his friends, uncles, aunties, and people who had traveled long distances just to witness this moment.

They had no idea what was about to happen.

Only his parents and Fei standing near the back knew.

Then the music changed.

Everyone turned toward the door.

Genevieve appeared.

She looked stunning in her white dress, sparkling from head to toe.

Her makeup was flawless, her smile wide.

She walked slowly down the aisle, holding her bouquet like a queen.

Every step she took, people gasped and whispered, “So beautiful, perfect bride.

Wow.

” David watched her, but he didn’t move.

He didn’t smile.

When she got to the front and took his hand, he held it loosely.

She leaned close and whispered, “Why are you so stiff?” Still smiling for the cameras, David said nothing.

The pastor stepped forward, smiling broadly.

Today is a special day, a day of joy, a day of union, a day of love.

People clapped softly.

He looked at David and Genevieve, then opened his Bible.

As we begin, I want to remind everyone what marriage means.

It is a bond, a promise, a journey of truth, love, and “Excuse me,” David said suddenly.

His voice was calm, clear, loud enough for everyone to hear.

The pastor stopped, looked confused.

Genevieve glanced at David.

Her smile wavered.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

David raised his hand gently.

“Before we go further,” he said, now facing the crowd.

“I need to share something.

” There was silence.

Whispers began, brows lifted, phones lowered.

David reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black speaker.

He placed it on the pulpit and pressed play.

At first, it was just laughter.

Then, Genevieve’s voice came through loud and sharp.

Let me enjoy this money first.

After one year, I’ll be done.

You think I want to marry a local Igbo man with an accent, a classy babe like me? The room went still.

More laughter followed.

Then her voice again.

They heard everything from the recordings.

Her dislike of David and her love for his money.

It was all too clear, clear as daylight.

Gasps filled the church.

A woman near the front dropped her hand fan.

An uncle slowly removed his glasses.

Genevie’s parents turned completely pale.

Genevie froze, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open.

She turned to David, panicking.

David, it’s not what he raised a hand.

Don’t, he said softly.

The audio stopped.

This, he said, voice steady.

Was supposed to be the beginning of something real, but it was never real.

He looked around the hall.

I loved her.

I planned a life with her.

I honored her family, her dreams, her background.

But what I got in return was lies, mockery, a plan.

Genevieve stepped forward, trying to grab his arm.

Please, I didn’t mean all those things.

It was just talk, just jokes.

David took a step back.

He gently tore the wedding contract in half, then dropped the pieces on the ground.

I’m not a fool, he said, and I won’t become one today.

Then he turned, walked down the aisle slowly, head high.

People stepped aside.

Some tried to speak to him, but he didn’t stop.

His parents joined him at the door.

Femi followed behind quietly.

No shouting, no insults, just silence.

The kind of silence that stays in a room long after a truth has been spoken.

Genevieve stood alone at the altar.

The bouquet slipped from her hands and dropped to the floor.

She didn’t even notice.

Her heart was pounding.

Her ears were ringing.

Her legs felt weak.

Nobody came forward to hold her.

Nobody clapped.

Nobody cheered.

Nobody whispered words of comfort.

Guests began standing, picking their bags and shaking their heads.

One by one, they walked out.

Some didn’t look at her at all.

Others looked at her like a stranger, like a shame.

Her so-called friends, Tola and BC, slipped away without a word.

They didn’t even meet her eyes.

They didn’t want to be seen with her.

They didn’t want anyone to remember they were part of the laughter, part of the plan.

Genevieve looked toward her parents.

Her mother stared at her, confused and humiliated.

Her father didn’t say a word.

He turned around and walked out of the church in silence, his head shaking slowly as if trying to erase everything.

The choir had gone quiet.

The decorations still glittered, but now they looked foolish, like dressing up a room for a lie.

Genevieve’s makeup began to melt under the lights.

She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and left a long black smear.

She looked around, but no one came.

No one moved toward her.

But she never imagined she’d be left standing at the altar, alone, disgraced, forgotten.

Outside the church, David was already in his cousin’s car.

His mother sat beside him, holding his hand gently.

His father was in the front seat, arms crossed, staring ahead in silence.

Femi sat in the back with them.

They drove to his cousin’s house.

A few close relatives followed behind in two other cars.

Nobody said much on the road.

The silence wasn’t heavy with shame.

It was full of quiet pride.

Pride in the way David had handled everything with dignity.

When they arrived, his cousin Chem opened the door wide.

“Come inside,” she said softly.

This is your home for now.

David walked in.

Inside, his cousins hugged him.

His uncle brought him a glass of water.

His aunt brought food, though he didn’t eat.

You did well, his father said later, sitting beside him.

You didn’t shout.

You didn’t fight.

You just told the truth.

David nodded slowly.

His voice was I feel empty.

His mother placed her palm on his back.

That emptiness will pass.

You saved yourself.

You saved your future.

Femi patted his knee.

Bro, you’ve earned respect today.

You taught everyone that love should be real, that dignity matters.

You didn’t just walk away.

You stood up for yourself.

That night, David sat quietly in the guest room, staring at the ceiling.

There was no wedding, no first dance, no celebration, no honeymoon, but there was truth, and there was peace, and there was family.

And sometimes that was all a man needed to start again.

Genevie Adabio could not sleep.

She lay in her bed, her makeup still half smeared from the disaster at the church.

Her gown lay in a heap on the floor, the once perfect white now wrinkled and dull.

The room was quiet, but her mind was loud, too loud to rest.

Her phone buzzed again.

Another message, another tag, another insult.

Screenshots of her recorded words were everywhere.

Clips from the church, the audio, David’s calm walkout.

Her frozen face had gone viral.

Blogs carried the story.

Twitter boiled with opinions.

Instagram flooded with comments.

# runaunaway groom.

# bridecaugh live.

#dignity over drama.

People called her a user, a tribalist, a social climber.

Some were even harsher.

She tried to call BC.

No answer.

She tried to switched off.

She sent messages, “Please, I need to talk.

” None delivered.

Her friends had vanished.

The same girls who toasted to soft life and laughed when she mocked David’s family, had left her to face the music alone.

Even her makeup artist, who once begged her for tags on Instagram, removed her pictures.

Her parents hadn’t spoken to her since they got home.

Her mother cried all night.

Her father, Chief Adabio, sat in the living room, silent.

His phone had not stopped ringing since morning, but not with congratulations, with bad news.

The tech partnership he had been hoping for, a project with Okoro Systems that was meant to transform his small logistics company, was gone.

David had withdrawn everything.

The official email had arrived that afternoon.

Due to recent events and internal restructuring, we regret to inform you that the proposal will not be moving forward.

That one deal was supposed to pull the Adabio family out of years of quiet financial struggle.

Now, it had slipped through their fingers like sand.

Chief Adabio didn’t shout.

He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything.

He just stared at the wall like a man who had lost more than money.

Genevie froze.

She opened David’s contact.

Her hands trembled.

She typed, “David, please.

I’m sorry.

Please, let’s talk.

” She hit call.

It didn’t ring.

Blocked.

She opened WhatsApp.

Last scene, gone.

Profile picture gone.

Blocked there, too.

She opened Instagram, searched, nothing.

He had wiped her out of his life completely.

No rants, no online statement, no shade, just silence.

That silence cut deeper than any insult could have.

Meanwhile, David sat quietly in his cousin’s home, scrolling through his own phone.

His friends had all checked in.

Old classmates sent messages of support.

Strangers reposted the video with captions like, “He handled it like a king.

Dignity is louder than noise.

May we all have David’s courage and calm.

” But David wasn’t smiling.

He wasn’t celebrating.

He was just breathing.

free.

He looked out the window.

The sky was orange with sunset.

His mother had just brought him a cup of tea.

Fei sat across the room watching him carefully.

“You okay?” Femi asked.

David nodded once.

“I will be.

” Genevieve on the other hand couldn’t hide.

Everywhere she went, the salon, the mall, even church, people looked at her differently now.

Some whispered, some stared openly, others ignored her completely.

Her world, once full of admiration and praise, was now filled with judgment and cold shoulders.

She opened Instagram again, hoping someone had posted something kinder, but no.

One comment stood out under a gossip blog’s post.

You mocked his tribe, his love, and his accent.

Now sit in it.

She dropped her phone.

For the first time in years, she truly felt poor.

Not in money, but in value.

Not because of David’s wealth.

Not because of the lost wedding, but because she had lost something deeper, his trust, his respect, his silence.

At the bottom of it all, David didn’t need to insult her.

He didn’t drag her name.

He didn’t expose more than necessary.

He simply walked away.

And somehow that walk away had become the loudest voice in the entire country.

6 months passed.

The dust had settled.

The videos stopped trending.

The blogs moved on to other scandals.

David Okoro quietly returned to his life without noise, without bitterness, without a woman on his arm.

He was still single.

But he was healing.

His days became simple again.

He woke early.

He jogged.

He read.

He worked.

His tech business ran smoothly.

And with the wedding drama behind him, David chose to take a break.

Not from life, but from the rush.

He packed a small bag and traveled back to Anugu.

Not to his office, not to stay at his parents house either.

He rented a quiet apartment on the edge of town, somewhere peaceful, close to the hills with space to breathe.

There he began volunteering at a small youth center.

A cousin had told him they needed help setting up a computer room.

He went one afternoon to offer support.

Nothing big, just to help wire things and donate a few old laptops.

That’s where he met her.

BMI Akin Lad.

She was a volunteer teacher, soft-spoken, observant, always with a pen in her hand and glasses perched on her nose.

Not loud, not flashy, not overly impressed by anything.

At first, she just greeted him politely.

Good afternoon, sir.

David smiled.

No need for sir, please.

She chuckled lightly and returned to marking exercise books.

Over time, their paths kept crossing.

She helped translate some of the training materials from English to Euroba for a group of children who had just relocated from the West.

David watched how she handled the kids, patient, never raising her voice, always explaining twice if needed.

They started talking just casually.

One day after class, she said, “You don’t seem like someone who needs to be here.

You look like someone who should be in a suit running a big meeting.

” David smiled.

I’ve done that part.

This one feels better right now.

She nodded slowly.

Peaceful, right? He looked at her carefully.

Yes, that’s the word.

Their friendship grew the way good things grow.

Slowly, naturally, without pressure.

He didn’t tell her everything at once.

She never pried.

They would walk after the center closed, just talking about books, life, random things.

She never asked what car he drove, never mentioned Instagram, never asked about his business.

For the first time in a long while, David felt like a person, not a prize.

One evening, as the sun dropped behind the trees, Bedmi said something that stayed in his chest.

People think love is about how fast your heart beats, but maybe it’s about how calm your heart feels around someone.

He looked at her.

She looked back, steady, honest.

Something in him settled.

Eventually, David told his parents about her.

He told them how she didn’t care about money, how she never asked questions that didn’t matter, how she listened, how she never tried to impress him.

And somehow that impressed him the most.

They were quiet at first.

Then his mother asked gently, “What’s her name?” “Bid me?” A pause.

“She’s Yurba?” David took a breath.

“Yes.

” Another pause.

This time, his father spoke.

Are you sure? I’m sure.

But after what happened? David interrupted softly.

I can’t use one person’s actions to condemn a whole tribe.

Papa people are different.

Pain should make us wiser, not hateful.

His mother sighed.

You’re right.

We trust you.

His father added, “Just be happy.

That’s all we want.

” He continued seeing Bedmi, not in a rush, not with pressure.

There was no big proposal yet, no trending hashtags, just quiet moments, shared laughter, peace.

She would bring him roasted corn and ground nuts.

He would fix her old laptop.

She would read poetry aloud.

He would listen.

And slowly, love returned to his life, not in loud fireworks, but in soft whispers.

One Sunday evening, as they sat on a wooden bench outside the youth center, Bedi looked up at him.

You don’t talk much about your past,” she said softly.

David nodded.

“It taught me enough.

I don’t need to keep living in it.

” She smiled.

“Good.

I like this version of you.

” David looked at her.

The way her hair curled gently at the sides, the way she didn’t wear too much makeup, the way she never faked anything.

I like this version, too, he said.

And so, David learned something no tech textbook ever taught him.

that sometimes heartbreak is not the end of a love story.

It’s the beginning of a better one.

One with peace, with patience, with truth, with no recordings, no performances, no fake smiles, just two people growing side by side, quietly, carefully, fully.

If you were in David’s shoes, standing at the altar, heartbroken, but with everyone watching, would you still go through with the wedding? Or would you walk away with your dignity? The choice, my friend, is never easy.

But sometimes peace is louder than love.