My eyes fluttered with shock. Niyi was playing my favourite melody on the saxophone, Sweet Love by Anita Baker. He stood in the centre of the stage looking gorgeous as usual in a crisp, black suit and gold bow tie. I was mesmerized by the sound, unable to take a single step. He played with such passion, closing his eyes as he swayed and tapped his feet.
The stage and the hall were decorated with gold and purple floor to ceiling silk. Even the pillars were wrapped with sparkling material. The overhead light glowed and reflected stars over the venue. My eyes took it all in with appreciation, but my heart and mind were on Niyi. People often shared stories about crying tears of joy. I am a living testimony that it is real.
When did you learn how to play the sax? I mouthed.
Without missing a note, he winked at me and I giggled like a school girl. Any other man would not have been able to make out what I was saying from that distance. Niyi was one of a kind. When he finished, I ran towards him. The end of the tune freed me from the magic spell of love that kept me fixed to the spot.
Niyi put the saxophone in a case, and met me halfway with open arms. With tears in my eyes and heart full of adoration, I leapt into his strong arms. He raised me up and spun me around before looking into my eyes and lowering me to my feet. My body brushing against his still gave me feverish chills.
"Teniola, mi owon. My precious, Teniola." He tilted his head down to meet my gaze, because I was a little shorter than him.
I laid an affectionate hand on his cheek and smiled. "Emi ni tire, titi lailai. I am yours forever."
Just as I was admiring the radiance of his beautiful dark brown skin and his honey brown eyes, he chuckled, and so did I.
"Nibo ni mo ti fe bere? Where do I want to start?" he asked.
In a cheeky move, I shrugged and drew my hands down from his shoulders and bit my lip. Niyi caught my hands before they could stray too far. He pecked both hands and returned them to his shoulders. The look in his eyes told me we would settle that matter later.
"TenTen, from the first day I met you, and we clashed over an administrative issue at work..."
I smirked at the memory. I thought he was a handsome, but an arrogant guy. It was mandatory for me to call him to order.
"You were kind and respectful. Polite but firm and held your head high and stood up for what you believed in. I was hooked before I knew it—to the intelligent and statuesque Americana with fiery deep brown eyes, a charming smile and exceptional beauty.
I rolled my eyes playfully. "Why did you keep arguing with me?"
"We both have strong personalities," he retorted. "And I couldn't fight the urge to dominate you," he whispered.
My body tingled at the sound of his confession, and my lips parted but I remained silent. No one had the same effect on me as him.
"With time, we overcame our differences and discovered that we have more in common than we realized. Words can't express how much I cherish every moment with you, Teniola. You're not just the only woman I want, you're the only woman I will ever need. I love you—"
I squealed with excitement and fanned my face. "I love you, Niyi."
He withdrew a box from his pocket and went down on one knee. "I want you to be my friend—"
"Yes!"
"My sister—"
"Yes!"
"My lover—"
"Yes, of course. Tosan toru. Day and night. Nigbati ori mi o buru, when I'm not unfortunate."
At this point, Niyi burst out laughing and shook his head before he could regain his composure. "The mother of my children—"
I looked forward to being a mum, and Niyi would be an incredible dad. Perfect. "Yes."
He snapped the box in his hand open and revealed a dazzling gold ring with a huge, white diamond. "Teniola Kristina Oyeyinka, will you marry me?"
"Yes!" I shouted loud enough for the king of Obashola to hear from his palace. My heart could barely contain its happiness. Niyi rose to his feet and slipped the ring on my trembling finger.
We hugged before kissing. It was sweet, gentle and mind blowing. Niyi held me at arms length and let out a long breath. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, oko mi owon. You're welcome, my precious husband."
For a moment, we were the only ones in our own special world. I snapped out of it as the reality of it all dawned upon me. I was the daughter of the former king and a wealthy New York based social worker and philanthropist. Niyi was the son of an estate guru father and celebrity chef mother.
Oh no.
To put the icing on the cake, we were both Yoruba.
Oh no.
I would prefer a quiet, private ceremony, and Niyi probably would too.
However...
Our families would want to blow it out of proportion in the name of tradition and their social status. Would my in-laws understand? My family certainly would not, especially since we were of royal lineage. They might tell me to embrace the celebration with friends and family, even though I liked peace and quiet. Would they condemn my 'American mentality?'
"Ki lo n ro? What are you thinking about?" Niyi asked.
I replied without blinking. "Nothing much."
Niyi arched an eyebrow in disbelief, but rubbed a hand down my back to calm my nerves. "Good. You have nothing to worry about."
"I need to tell my mum, my brothers and—"
Niyi raised a finger and placed it on my lips. He dialled a number on his phone and said nothing. Drawing me by hand, he led me to the right side of the hall. Another big set of curtains parted and I saw my mother, brothers and other close family members.
I saw Amaka serving people drinks near a window, and I wagged my finger at her when she looked my way. Amaka waved back and grinned from ear to ear, not before tapping the person beside her. The head caterer, a fair complexioned lady who also waved at me.
I ran to my teary eyed mum and she hugged me. "I'm so happy for you. My baby is getting married," she said.
"I missed you, Mum. Thanks for everything," I said. I was so happy that she came. Niyi put a lot of effort into organising the proposal.
Niyi came to us and prostrated for my mother, in accordance with our culture of greeting elders. After my mum embraced him and said a few words to pray for and congratulate us, he left. The crowd swarmed around him, shaking his hand and wishing us well. I excused myself from my mother to greet my in-laws and other family and friends.
"My daughter, I am delighted. God bless your union."
I whipped my head left and right at the sound of the good will greeting. It was the voice of my father. His rich, deep intonation was unmistakable. A lone tear slid down my cheek but I brushed it away. All I could see around were people laughing and eating some light refreshments, like ice cream cake. My father was no where to be found, but he made his presence known.
"Teniola aya Niyi omo Faleke. Awa naa ki o pe o ku orire o. Teniola, wife of Niyi the son of Faleke. We are also greeting you. Congratulations. Ade to de loni ko ni ye kuro lori re. A wa leyin re. The crown that has been placed on you today will not slip from your head. We support you."
The voices were representatives of the multitude I sensed earlier. I did not have the faintest idea who they were. What did they mean by speaking of me being crowned?