Chapter Thirty-Three
When Michael was ready to go to bed, he opened his Netflix app on his phone and created a profile for her with her name since he didn't want her to use his sister's or his profile. After setting it up, he texted her the Netflix login details and informed her that the profile with her name was the one she should use.
When the message didn't deliver after some minutes, he frowned, wondering whether she had gone to bed. He contemplated calling her to check, but decided against it.
He had been looking forward to chatting with her, so he couldn't help feeling disappointed that she wasn't even online.
Michael decided to say his night prayers and then check again for her response after he was done, but as he prayed, he was distracted by thoughts of Amara.
He was almost discouraged and wanted to stop praying, but then he remembered 2 Corinthians 10:5 and what Pastor Dele had said about praying for God to help him control his passion toward Amara.
He couldn't let his feelings for Amara or his thoughts about her get in the way of his relationship with God. If it had gotten to the point where he was distracted by her thoughts during prayer, then he had to take those thoughts captive to the obedience of Christ.
He decided to pray about it.
"Father, I was on my own when You brought Amara into my life. You said she is going to be my wife. I agree that I didn't like the idea at first, and I may have said I won't do it, but I know You know that was the human part of me speaking. I don't intend to disobey You. I trust You and know that everything You say is for my good, even if I don't see or understand it now. And I know that You only have thoughts of good for me to give me an expected end. So, I'm grateful You brought Amara into my life, and I acknowledge Your plan for us to be together, and I trust Your goodness and sovereignty.
So, please, I need Your help. I don't understand how I'm feeling about Amara. Please help me handle my feelings for her. I don't want the passion that would consume or distract me. Yes, I would like to be physically and emotionally attracted to my wife, but she is not my wife yet, and I don't want the devil to turn this attraction I feel towards her into something unholy, so please help me put my feelings in check. I desire a healthy attraction to my future wife, but I want to honor You and maintain purity.
Holy Spirit, more than ever before, I need the fruit of self-control to be expressed in me so I can manage my emotions and not sin against you in thoughts or actions. Protect me from temptation and guide me in Your wisdom. Help me to focus on building a strong foundation for our relationship, rooted in mutual respect, trust, and love.
I trust Your plan and promise to guide me. Give me the strength to obey Your will and follow Your lead in my relationship with Amara. And please reveal Your will to Amara, and prepare her to be the kind of wife You want her to be for me. And prepare me to be the kind of husband You desire for her. Please help me to be more understanding of her and her past. In Jesus' name. Amen."
By the time he finished praying, he felt much better and at peace, and he decided to go to bed without checking his phone since he always made it a habit that the last thing he did at night before sleep was talking to God.
He wanted God to be the last thought on his mind at night and the first thought when he woke up in the morning. He didn't like that Amara was gradually taking that place.
The next morning after his quiet time, he checked his phone, and he wasn't pleased when he saw that it was just a thank-you message she had sent long after he had slept.
He responded to the text with "You're welcome" and then decided to start his morning routine.
By the time he was done, it was almost 9 A.M., so he left for the pharmacy after promising his mother that he'd be back to drive her to the airport.
As he approached the pharmacy, he looked up at Amara's apartment, and his lips curved in a smile when he saw her standing outside like she was waiting for him. He saw the way she smiled when she saw his car.
She headed downstairs, and by the time he parked, she was standing beside the car with a wide smile. "Good morning. I thought you changed your mind about coming. It's past 9."
"Good morning. Get in, let's go." Michael opened the door from inside for her, and Amara got in, carrying a fancy white poly bag.
"So, were you able to finish making the dress?" Michael asked, glancing at the bag she was holding.
Amara laughed as she fastened her seatbelt. "Yes o. I battled with sleep eh."
"That was expected. You must have been tired from all that cleaning, market runs, and then cooking," he pointed out as he reversed the car and drove away without going into the pharmacy.
"It's just laziness jor. That small cleaning and market runs. Before I used to do more than that and still be able to sew, I think it's because it's been long since I last sewed," she said dismissively.
"Well, your body is not a machine; you should rest after we get back from the airport," he said, and she smiled.
"Yes, daddy," she said with a teasing smile. "What about you? Did you sleep well?" She asked, changing the topic.
Michael nodded. "Yes. I guess you saw the Netflix login late. You didn't reply immediately," he said, and she grinned.
"Were you waiting for my response?" She asked with a teasing smile.
Michael turned to look at her. "Yes."
"Really? Sorry. I was playing music with the phone as I was working, and my data was off. It was later that I saw it. You could have called."
"I thought of that, but I didn't want to disturb you," he admitted, and she smiled.
"You would have kept me company while I was sewing," she said, then sighed. "I finished sewing around 2 a.m., slept but woke up around 4, and had a bad dream," Michael raised a brow as he turned to look at her briefly.
"What was the dream about?"
"Hmm. It was about that night. They were dragging me to kill me." She still shuddered at the thought of the dream.
"Did you pray when you woke up?"
"Yes. Of course I did. It was my mother's prayers that saved me that night," she said thoughtfully.
"How?"
"I didn't just wake up. Someone woke me up. I think it was the Holy Spirit or God. They're the same, abi? I heard the voice, but nobody was there. Then, when I woke up, my mother called that night. She said she dreamt that my enemy was killed, but she had prayed for me," Amara said with a deep sigh. "I didn't even know what was happening then. I lied to her and told her that I was at my house. I couldn't tell her the truth. What would have happened if I had died that night?" She murmured.
"Thank God you didn't die. Thank God for saving you," Michael said, and she smiled.
"Yeah. And thank you, too," she said, but Michael didn't respond because he still felt guilty about not preaching to her when God asked him to.
"Pray and ask God to take away the nightmares. I will be praying for you, too," he promised.
When they got to the house, Michael's mother was happy when they walked in and she realized that he had gone to pick up Amara.
"Amara, my darling," she said, embracing Amara.
"We should start going now so that we will get there in time in case there is traffic," he said as he picked up his mother's suitcase, which was already in the living room.
"Mummy, this is for you," Amara said, handing the bag to the woman so she could put it in her suitcase before leaving.
"For me? What is it?" She asked as she opened the bag while Michael watched, wanting to see the dress that Amara had made.
"Amara!" Michael's mother gasped as she looked at the elegant dress Amara had made for her. "Did you buy this?"
Amara laughed shyly. "No. I sewed it."
"You made this dress? When? Don't tell me this was why you took my measurement yesterday," she said, and Amara smiled.
"I know this is nothing compared to all you've done for me, but I wanted to give you something before you leave. Please manage it," Amara said, and the woman pulled her in for a hug.
"Thank you. Thank you very much, Amara. God bless you. I love the dress. I now have what I will wear to church next Sunday," she said, and Michael smiled as he watched them.
When his mother caught him smiling as he watched them, he quickly walked away with her bag before she could say anything.
When they got to the car, Amara wanted to open the rear door, but Michael's mother entered the backseat before she could.
"Sit in front with Michael. I want to stay here," she said, but Amara refused.
"No, mummy. You are supposed to…"
"Supposed? Who gave the rule? Go and sit in front," she said, closing the door so Amara won't enter the backseat with her.
As they drove to the airport, the police flagged them down, and an officer looked into the car.
"Ah! Mama, migwor!" He greeted Michael's mother before focusing on Michael and Amara, "Fine family. Husband fine, wife be like mammy water. Una pikin go too make sense. Future Mr Nigeria."
Michael's mother laughed, but Amara looked embarrassed. She looked at Michael, expecting him to explain that they were not married, but Michael didn't seem bothered by it, and neither did his mother.
In fact, his mother reached into her handbag and gave the officer a one-thousand-naira note. The officer thanked her and gestured for Michael to go.
Seeing that they did not mind what the officer had said, Amara decided not to let it bother her. If anyone was supposed to complain about the officer's assumption, it should be Michael, not her, anyway.
Michael was too good for someone like her after all.
When they got to the airport, Michael's mother embraced Amara, "Make sure you take good care of yourself, serve God with all your heart, and talk to Michael if you need anything. Thanks for the dress again. I'll send you some money to make some dresses for me. Let me be your first customer," she said, before turning to Michael with a wide smile.
"I trust you to take good care of Amara. And take care of yourself too. Stop buying food outside before you go and eat Iya Basira food. Amara will cook for you," she said, knowing that he has changed his mind.
"I've heard you. Greet everybody for me," Michael said, and both he and Amara stood and watched as she went in for her luggage check.
As much as he would miss her, he was glad that she was leaving. She was monitoring his life too much.