Before I say I do - episode 6 - by Matilda🪷🫧

The rehearsal dinner. A private hall strung with fairy lights, round tables dressed in white and gold. Laughter, clinking glasses, forty-odd guests in their finest. Daniel and Amara sit beside each other at the head table — a foot of space between them that reads as intimacy to everyone watching and as distance to no one who’s paying attention. Daniel’s mother, MRS. OKAFOR, taps a spoon against her glass and rises, beaming. MRS. OKAFOR: “I just want to say — watching my son find someone who makes him this happy —” Daniel forces a smile. Amara’s hand finds her water glass, grips it a little too tightly. MRS. OKAFOR: “— it’s everything I prayed for. To Daniel and Amara!” The room echoes the toast. Glasses rise. Amara and Daniel clink theirs together without quite looking at each other. Across the room, near the entrance, a late arrival causes a small ripple — a tall man in a dark blazer, scanning the tables. Amara sees him first. Her face drains. It’s Kemi. AMARA: (under her breath) “No. No, no, no—” DANIEL: (following her gaze, voice low and dangerous) “You invited him?” AMARA: “I didn’t. I swear I didn’t.” Kemi spots her, hesitates, then starts making his way toward the head table with the easy confidence of someone who doesn’t yet realize he’s walked into a minefield. DANIEL: (standing abruptly) “Excuse me.” He intercepts Kemi halfway, blocking him smoothly, a practiced smile on for the watching guests. DANIEL: (low, controlled) “I don’t know who invited you, but you need to leave. Now.” KEMI: “I just want five minutes with her.” DANIEL: “You’re not getting five seconds.” Nearby guests start to notice the tension beneath the pleasantries. Mrs. Adeyemi, a few tables away, watches with a frown forming. Amara appears at Daniel’s shoulder, mortified, trying to defuse it. AMARA: (hushed) “Kemi, please. Not here.” KEMI: “You never answered me.” AMARA: “Because there’s nothing to answer!” KEMI: “Then why do you still have my number saved?” The words land loud enough for the nearest table to hear. A hush ripples outward. Mrs. Okafor’s smile falters for the first time all night. Daniel steps closer to Kemi, jaw tight. DANIEL: “You need to walk away. Right now, before I make this a lot less polite.” Security — hired for the event — finally clocks the disturbance and moves in. Kemi puts his hands up, backing off, but his eyes stay locked on Amara. KEMI: “I’m not the one who called an ex to his apartment the night before his wedding, Daniel. Maybe worry about your own house.” The room goes dead silent. Mrs. Okafor’s glass stops halfway to her lips. Mrs. Adeyemi stands slowly from her seat, confusion turning to alarm. Security escorts Kemi out. The door swings shut behind him. Forty guests sit frozen, the celebratory air curdled into something tense and whispering. Amara stands rooted to the spot, humiliation and panic crossing her face in waves. Daniel turns to her, and for the first time, there’s something raw and wounded beneath his anger. DANIEL: (quiet, just for her) “Everyone just heard that.” AMARA: “Daniel—” DANIEL: “Not here.” He turns, forces a smile for the room, raises his glass like nothing happened. DANIEL: (loud, bright, brittle) “Sorry, everyone — overeager wedding crasher. Please, continue!” Nervous laughter ripples back through the crowd as conversation slowly, awkwardly resumes. But Mrs. Adeyemi is already moving toward Amara, her face no longer hiding anything. MRS. ADEYEMI: (low, urgent) “Amara. My office. Now.” Amara glances at Daniel — he won’t meet her eyes — then follows her mother out of the hall, the fairy lights glittering uselessly overhead.

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