"Can you believe what Mama Tamadu told me today?" Clara said, kneading Alex's legs with gentle hands. "Her husband just married another wife — and guess who brought the girl home? His mother!"
Alex's sleepy eyes fluttered open. "What? You're joking."
"I'm serious!" Clara continued, voice rising in disbelief. "The woman said she'd commit suicide if her son didn't marry the girl. Imagine that kind of manipulation. Now she's living with them, refusing to return to the village."
Alex sighed, the news stirring pity. "That's terrible. Seven children… after everything she's done for him."
Clara nodded. "Hmm. Life can be unfair. Anyway!" She smiled suddenly, shaking off the heaviness. "Let's talk about something happier — the party this weekend! Have you decided on a hairstyle? I've already picked one, and honestly, Alex, let's just make the same style. You'll love it."
Alex laughed softly, her voice fading into a yawn. "Okay, big sis. Whatever you say."
~~~
The next morning, Alex requested a two-day leave from Mrs Thomas' fashion school. On her way home, she told Mia about it.
"A wedding party? Ooh, fancy!" Mia teased. "Don't forget to bring cake for me."
Alex rolled her eyes playfully. "We'll see."
~~~
The Salon Day
The first day of her leave was spent at the salon. Hours passed as braids formed neat, delicate patterns across their scalps. Laughter filled the air — the hum of dryers, the click of combs, the smell of coconut oil.
By the time the hairdressers were done, the sisters were exhausted but radiant.
The following day came bright and warm. Clara and Alex dressed carefully — shimmering fabrics, modest jewelry, soft makeup. Clara twirled in front of the mirror and winked. "We clean up well, don't we?"
Alex smiled. "You always do, sis."
~~~
The Wedding
Alagna traffic was brutal that afternoon, but they arrived just in time. The wedding hall was a spectacle — ribbons of royal purple, lilac flowers, and air thick with the aroma of jollof rice, fried chicken, and vanilla perfume.
Since the hall was nearly full, they found seats near the edge. The music thumped, laughter echoed, and waiters glided past with trays of drinks.
After a while, Clara leaned close. "I'll go greet the bride and groom — they're my customers , remember?"
"Okay," Alex said, clutching her small purse.
Minutes stretched into nearly an hour. Alone at the table, Alex's fingers fidgeted with her purse clasp. Her eyes drifted across the crowd — bright dresses, flashing cameras, the swirl of joy she didn't quite feel part of. She preferred watching people to being watched, and every passing glance made her shoulders stiffen.
To distract herself, she began rummaging in her purse — for what, she didn't even know.
"Is this seat taken?"
The voice was calm, low, and gentle. She froze, looking up.
A man stood before her — tall, neat, his smile polite but warm. He held a cup of wine, the faint reflection of the purple ribbons glinting in the glass.
"Oh— no," she stammered, moving her purse aside.
"Thank you," he said, sitting gracefully beside her.
He glanced at the crowd, then back at her. "Weddings can be a bit much when you don't know anyone, don't you think?"
Alex's lips curved slightly. "Tell me about it. I'm just waiting for my sister."
That opened a door neither of them expected. Soon they were talking — first about the décor, then the food, then somehow about music, travel, and life in Alagna. The conversation flowed like they'd known each other for years instead of minutes.
From across the hall, Clara spotted them. A mischievous grin tugged at her lips. She decided to wait — to give her sister a few more minutes before interrupting what looked suspiciously like the start of something.
When she finally approached, she tapped Alex's shoulder. "Alex, it's time to go." Then, turning to the stranger, she added with a teasing smile, "Hello, young man."
Alex startled, not realizing her sister had been watching. Her face flushed.
The man smiled, unfazed. "Muiz," he said, extending his hand politely.
"Alexandra," she replied softly, her hand meeting his.
For a fleeting second, it felt as if something electric passed between them — a quiet spark, subtle yet undeniable. Two hearts that hadn't been searching suddenly found each other's rhythm.