Zara Williams woke up to silence.
For a brief moment, she didn't move.
Her eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling above her—high, cream-colored, decorated with soft gold patterns that reflected the early morning light pouring in through the tall windows.
It was beautiful.
Too beautiful.
Slowly, reality settled in.
Today was her wedding day.
Her chest tightened.
Zara inhaled deeply, then exhaled, but the strange weight in her chest didn't leave. Instead, it spread—quiet, heavy, unsettling.
She sat up carefully on the large bed, the silk sheets sliding against her skin. Her robe hung loosely on her shoulders, soft and expensive, just like everything else around her.
Everything was perfect.
So why didn't it feel that way?
Her fingers pressed lightly against her chest.
Why am I not excited?
She had imagined this day so many times.
The dress.
The aisle.
The vows.
Tunde.
A soft knock came from the door.
Zara turned her head slightly, but before she could respond—
The door burst open.
"Bride!!!"
The room filled instantly.
Laughter. Voices. Movement.
Her bridesmaids rushed in, carrying bags, shoes, boxes—energy pouring into the once-quiet space.
"Zara, you're still lying down?"
"Do you know what time it is?"
"Today is your wedding, not a sleeping competition oh!"
Zara blinked, then slowly forced a smile onto her lips.
"I'm awake," she said softly.
Her voice sounded calm.
Too calm.
Nothing like how a bride was supposed to sound.
Her best friend, Kemi, paused and looked at her more closely.
"Are you okay?" she asked, stepping forward.
Zara nodded immediately.
"I'm fine."
Kemi held her gaze for a moment longer, as if searching for something deeper, but the room had already become too loud again.
"Come on, stand up!" another bridesmaid said, pulling Zara gently.
"We don't have time!"
Zara allowed herself to be guided off the bed.
Her body moved.
Her thoughts stayed behind.
---
Within minutes, the room transformed.
Makeup kits opened.
Hair tools heated up.
Voices overlapped endlessly.
"Sit here."
"Face the mirror."
"Don't move your head."
Zara sat in front of the large mirror as the makeup artist began her work.
Brushes touched her skin.
Soft, precise movements.
Zara stared at her reflection.
Her face slowly changed.
Foundation.
Powder.
Highlight.
Each step brought her closer to becoming a bride.
A perfect bride.
But something about it felt distant.
Like she was watching someone else.
---
"Relax your face," the makeup artist said.
Zara adjusted slightly.
"Good… you have a very fine face," the woman added.
The bridesmaids laughed.
"Of course! Our bride is international!"
"Abroad babe!"
Zara smiled faintly.
"Yes, she will now come and be a Nigerian wife," someone joked.
More laughter.
Zara joined in.
But inside, the words sat differently.
Be a Nigerian wife.
She wasn't sure she fully understood what that meant.
---
Another knock.
This time, the door opened slowly.
The room quieted slightly.
Zara turned.
Her parents stood at the entrance.
Her father stepped in first, composed, his presence calm but strong.
Her mother followed, graceful and observant, her eyes immediately finding Zara.
For a second, everything else faded.
"Mum," Zara said softly, standing up.
Her mother walked toward her, her expression softening.
"You look beautiful," she said, gently touching Zara's face.
Zara smiled.
"Thank you."
Her father came closer, his eyes studying her carefully.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Zara paused.
Just briefly.
"I'm fine, Dad."
He nodded slowly.
"Alright."
But the way he looked at her said he wasn't fully convinced.
---
Outside, faint sounds drifted in.
Music.
Voices.
Movement.
The wedding atmosphere was already building.
---
"Food is here!" one of the bridesmaids suddenly shouted.
Immediately, excitement filled the room again.
Plates were brought in.
The rich aroma hit instantly.
Jollof rice.
Fried rice.
Peppered meat.
Small chops.
"Ah! This smells amazing!"
"See this jollof!"
"This wedding is not small at all!"
Laughter returned.
Energy returned.
Everything felt alive.
Kemi walked over to Zara with a plate.
"Eat something," she said. "You'll need strength."
Zara took the plate slowly.
She looked down at it.
Then back up at the mirror.
The woman staring back at her looked flawless.
Ready.
Perfect.
But deep inside…
Something still didn't feel right.
---
Zara Williams forced a small smile.
Because today had to be perfect.
No matter what she felt.