I blinked as I tried to interpret what he had said. "Get married to him? Dad, who? Who are you referring to?
He went on, "The Coker family," as though I should have understood exactly what he meant. "You'll marry Yemi Coker, the heir to Coker Enterprises."
I felt like I was being punched in the stomach by the term. The billionaire in a wheelchair, Yemi Coker, has lived most of his life hidden away in the walls of his family's opulent mansion. I never imagined our lives would cross paths, and I had only ever heard the man's name in passing.
"Are you out of your mind?" Despite myself, I raised my voice to inquire. "I don't even know him."
He laughed sharply, the sound sour, as though the whole exchange had been some horrible joke. It is not necessary for you to know him. Adebola, it's a commercial deal. You'll contribute. I will be able to pay off everything in exchange, including your mother's medical bills and our debts. Everything. This is something you owe me.
I looked to my mother, hoping to see a spark of support or some indication of dissent. However, her fingers were clenched in her lap, and her eyes were sad. Her quiet was quite telling.
"You knew about this?" With a sinking heart from the weight of betrayal, I asked.
Her lips quivered as she nodded. "Adebola, your father did it to keep us safe. There is no other option.
"Protect us?" I said it again, the words stinging my tongue. "From where? from taking part in a commercial transaction?"
"This isn't just a deal, Adebola," my father bluntly interrupted. "This is your opportunity to steer our family in the correct direction. Consider the wider view for once. Consider what is at risk.
My thoughts were racing as I shook my head. I was at a loss for words. My entire being begged me to say no, to reject this perverse agreement, but I knew I couldn't. Everything depended on this, including my mother's health and our financial collapse. I also ran the possibility of losing everything if I didn't comply.
Coker, Yemi. For a time, I could only see his icy, cunning gaze as his name replayed in my mind. He was a man whose wheelchair identified him more than anything else, and I had heard reports about his being aloof and closed off. What did I know about him, though? Nothing. Nothing at all.
"Are you sure about this, Adebola?" My mother's voice interrupted me as she looked into my eyes and seemed to be begging.
"Yes, Mom," I muttered, my heart heaving under the weight of everything. "I'll do it."
In my mouth, the words tasted like ash. I had made a self-promise to never let anyone to decide my course in life or control it. But here I was, ready to give up my independence to protect my family.
A week prior to the wedding, everything seemed unreal. Fittings, meetings, and rehearsals were all taking place in the big Coker mansion, and I navigated everything like a puppet on strings, blindly following the instructions. My dad was happy. My mom was struggling to keep her composure. And I was just, well, numb.
I had seldom heard from Yemi. For the most part, he hadn't even glanced at me. I had once seen him, but it had just been a fleeting gaze and no words had been spoken. He was as far away as the gossip had claimed.
As directed by his family, I arrived at the home early and was shown to a tiny sitting room. The air smelled strongly of pricey perfume, and the walls were coated with rich mahogany. However, it all felt oppressive, like though I were imprisoned in a golden cage.
When Yemi eventually entered the room, I wasn't sure what to anticipate, but the man who entered was quite different from what I had thought. Even from the chair that confined him, he had a dominating presence and was taller than I had imagined. For a second, I saw a spark-a flash of something beneath the surface-when his black eyes met mine.
His voice was silky and rich as he said, "Mrs. Coker," yet there was a tinge of derision in the way he uttered my title. "I suppose we should get this over with."
I forced myself to swallow, fighting the impulse to scream. There was no fairy tale here. Two people were not meant to fall in love in this story. It was a transaction, no. A commercial transaction. Not much more.
I said in a tone that was colder than I had intended: "I'm not your wife yet." "And I don't think we need to rush things, do we?"
His lips formed a tiny, hardly noticeable smile as he arched an eyebrow. "All OK. Mrs. Coker, we'll have plenty of time for that."
He gave me a lengthy look as like he was considering something, and then he abruptly asked a question to break the ice. "Do you think this will work?"
Uncertain of how to respond, I tensed up. I didn't even know how to trust him, much less comprehend him, so the last thing I wanted to do was discuss sentiments or our future. "What do you mean?"
"Us," was all he said. "Do you think we'll make it through this... arrangement?"
I stared at him, not knowing how to react. This was not a union. A contract was in place. A contract that I was forced to keep. I noticed something more, though, as I looked into his dark eyes. I knew it would alter everything, but I couldn't yet comprehend it.
The door abruptly opened before I could say anything, and someone said, "Yemi, we need you downstairs."
Yemi's expression was opaque as his eyes darted to the entrance and back to me. He muttered dryly, "Duty calls," and wheeled himself out of the room, leaving me standing there in the ensuing silence.
With my heart racing in my chest, I took a trembling breath. The uncertainty of everything and the weight of what was about to happen loomed large over me. I kept having the uneasy sense that something wasn't right. There was a problem.
And before I could process everything, I heard a voice behind me say, "I hope you're ready, Adebola." For this is more than simply a marriage. We both understand that it's a game.