Chapter One
Chapter One
Happy Birthday... I Guess.
The music hit before the guests did.
Afrobeats rolled through the reception hall, blending with bursts of laughter, clinking glasses, children running between tables, aunties fixing everyone’s outfits whether they asked or not, and enough flowers to make every bee on Front Street file a change-of-address form.
White roses.
Gold ribbons.
Soft fairy lights hanging from the ceiling like tiny stars that had somehow accepted an invitation.
Someone screamed.
Someone else screamed louder.
A camera flashed every three seconds.
An uncle was already dancing.
It wasn’t even time to dance yet.
Beautiful chaos.
My favorite kind.
...
Oh.
Right.
I forgot to introduce myself.
Hi.
My name is Dabalie Hanfareh.
As of... well, give it another twenty minutes or so, that won’t be my last name anymore.
Today’s my twenty-sixth birthday.
Which was originally supposed to involve cake, a cute dinner, and pretending I wasn’t getting older.
Instead...
I’m wearing a wedding dress heavy enough to qualify as gym equipment.
Life is funny like that.
No, actually.
Life is a comedian.
Oh, where’s the groom? you ask.
Excellent question.
Currently?
Throwing up.
Poor thing.
Don’t look at me like that.
He’s not having second thoughts.
He’s just... nervous.
Very nervous.
Actually, that’s normal for Aiden.
First day at the hospital?
He threw up.
First international conference?
He threw up.
First time presenting in front of senior physicians?
Guess.
Exactly.
Today happens to be the first wedding he’s ever attended.
Unfortunately for his stomach...
It’s also his own.
A few guests glanced toward the hallway just as the bathroom door opened.
"There he is" , I muttered.
My future husband appeared, looking suspiciously alive for someone who had just emptied the contents of his digestive system.
His tie sat slightly crooked.
His hair had given up.
He caught my eye and smiled.
Still handsome.
Annoyingly handsome.
He walked over and stopped beside me.
"You okay?" I asked.
"I’m alright."
"You sure?"
"I think so."
I narrowed my eyes.
"You threw up a lot?"
His jaw dropped.
"Lilie."
"What?"
"Seriously?"
"I’m asking."
"You make it sound like you’re reviewing a restaurant."
"I just wanted to know if you were okay."
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I’ll survive."
"Good."
A tiny smile escaped him.
"I appreciate your confidence."
"I’d be really upset if you died before signing the papers."
"There it is."
"There what is?"
"My best friend."
I grinned.
"There she is."
He laughed.
Success.
Getting Aiden to laugh before noon should honestly count as community service.
People think he’s quiet because he’s mysterious.
No.
He’s quiet because he likes watching everyone else embarrass themselves first.
He’s incredibly patient.
Kind.
Calm.
The kind of person who apologizes when someone bumps into him.
Honestly...
He’d make the sweetest husband.
For somebody.
Just probably not me.
Anyway.
The music softened.
Our families gathered closer.
The officiant smiled.
Someone started crying before anything had even happened.
Probably one of our mothers.
Or both.
Five minutes later...
We were married.
Just like that.
Pens scratched across paper.
Two signatures.
A few legal words.
Some applause.
A lifetime contract.
Easy.
The photographer barely gave us a chance to breathe before directing us toward the stage.
"Family!"
Click.
"Siblings!"
Click.
"Parents!"
Click.
"Cousins!"
Click.
At one point, I genuinely think we took a picture with people neither of us had ever met.
Then a familiar voice called out.
"Lilie!"
I turned.
Sofie.
Finally.
She waved enthusiastically.
"Come! Just you and me!"
I laughed.
"What about your brother?"
Aiden, standing a few feet away, lifted one hand.
"I’m good."
Sofie didn’t even look at him.
"He’s good."
"I literally answered."
"Exactly."
She grabbed my wrist.
"Come on!"
As she pulled me away, I looked over my shoulder.
Poor Aiden.
Five siblings.
Two parents.
A hundred relatives.
And somehow...
Ever since I’d shown up in his life, everyone had collectively decided he was no longer the interesting one.
I blew him a tiny apologetic smile.
He shrugged like he’d already accepted his fate years ago.
The dance floor opened moments later.
Within seconds...
It exploded.
Afrobeats.
Kompa.
People formed circles.
Uncles challenged nephews.
Little cousins copied dance moves they absolutely shouldn’t have known.
Even Aiden's grandma was moving.
I was laughing so hard my cheeks hurt.
Then...
Someone shouted.
"Kiss!"
Another voice joined.
"Kiss!"
Within seconds the entire room was chanting.
"KISS!"
"KISS!"
"KISS!"
I slowly turned toward Aiden.
He looked at me.
I looked at him.
He leaned closer just enough for only me to hear.
"Don’t worry."
"About what?"
"I brushed both my teeth..." He paused dramatically. "...and my tongue."
I stared at him.
"...Thank you?"
"I know how particular you are."
"I appreciate the consideration."
The chanting somehow got louder.
Aiden offered me a reassuring smile.
"You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable."
See?
An angel.
An actual angel.
Which is exactly why what happened two years ago still makes absolutely no sense.
Because that’s where this story really begins.
Not with a wedding.
Not with a kiss.
Not even with a birthday.
It began during a night shift.
At exactly 3:14 in the morning.
With terrible hospital coffee...
.....................................................................................................
Congratulations! You officially survived the wedding.
Now all that’s left is figuring out why these two best friends ended up getting married... and why Dabalie is so convinced Aiden isn’t interested in women.
If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a vote, a comment, and follow along for the chaos ahead. I’d love to hear your thoughts!
See you in the next chapter! 🤍
