He was charming without trying too hard. He remembered the smallest details about me, from the way I liked my tea to the songs that made me smile. When I was upset, he would sit beside me, hold my hand, and wait until I was ready to talk.
He called me his wife long before he ever asked me to become one.
Whenever we attended a gathering with his friends, he introduced me proudly.
“This is Amara, my future wife,” he would say, wrapping his arm around my waist.
His friends would laugh.
“Future wife? Daniel, when exactly are you going to make this woman an actual wife?”
He would grin and look at me.
“Soon. Very soon. I’m preparing something special for her.”
I believed him because I loved him.
When I turned twenty-three, he told me he needed time to establish his business before we married.
When I turned twenty-four, he said he wanted to save enough money to give me the wedding I deserved.
