Oops! (The story).

As I gaze at him, I marvel at God's goodness. Preye isn’t the sun, the moon or the galaxies, nor is he any more or less a creation of God. This is one of those days I couldn't help but ask myself how I got so lucky. And as always, Jonathan Mcyreynold’s words echo in my mind–“I'm not lucky, I'm loved.” Yeah, that.

To be at the receiving end of such sweet love is mind-boggling sometimes. Preye’s love for me is many things, but most especially an extension of God's intentional love to me. This beautiful man with a large build, high hairlines, symmetrical well trimmed beards, the most soothing voice, the kindest heart, the warmest hug—wait, I think I'll keep some other things to myself, plus there's so much I'm yet to unravel. Remember, there were certain things that Mary the mother of Jesus pondered in her heart?

Preye is sitting next to me on the couch with his signature confident and relaxed demeanor, all clad up in a maroon T-shirt, cargo shorts and a pair of sneakers. Side note: my man always looks good on anything! Trad, casual, corporate–you name it. The items from the period-care package he purchased for me earlier, all neatly arranged on a small table to his right. Six packs of sanitary towels (as though I were the woman with the issue of blood), period panties (man don dey buy me pant? I feel so shy), some pain relieving medication, essential oils, and comforting snacks (oh, for the love of my sweet tooth). As he watches the TV, he busies himself by gently giving me a foot rub with some essential oils before wearing me a pair of socks because my feet were cold.

I take a quick glance at the elegant engagement ring that has been sitting on my slender fingers since he proposed marriage about three weeks ago. Bringing my gaze back to Preye, I wonder, how did all this sweetness become my reality? This sweetness I once fought with everything in me. It seemed all too good to be true. From the time we met at a mutual friend's movie premiere, every word exchanged, every gesture, feels like it’s pulled from the pages of a romance novel that God himself wrote.

To be honest, I wouldn't have given Preye a second glance in a crowded room, even though he had quite the presence. Big guys? A used-to-be no-no for me, no matter how good looking they were. Would you blame a 5’4 belle like me with a slender frame? I used to believe guys like him belonged as bouncers, not in my heart.

And as one who is sometimes too quick to assume, on the day we met, I had thought he was indeed a bouncer until Ehis, our mutual friend, mentioned that he and Preye met during their masters abroad. Man, I felt mortified! But Preye didn’t show any offense. He responded to my clumsy assumption with warmth and kindness. For me, that was quite the first impression. Now, he already belonged in my heart, and even if he were a bouncer, boy, I wouldn't mind! After all, he came along and bounced all the sons of Pharaoh from my past.

Speaking of sons of Pharaoh, I’m not sure what possessed me, but I seemed to be attracted to the typical bad boys. Chai. Wetin my eye don see for the streets? You don't want to know. For one, I wanted someone who was adventurous—whose gestures would be pumping me steady with adrenaline. While God was saving me from a future heart attack, I, on the other hand, was shedding premium tears over multiple heartbreaks. Even after being saved, I still found myself attracted to guys way above my league. If at all, they only wanted nothing more than friendship with me, since I was no typical turn-heads-down-the-hallway-girl. That was why when Preye came along, I couldn't blame myself for playing it safe initially.

“Madam, are you checking me out?” he inquires with a raise of his full eyebrows.

Oops-a-

“Daisy?” he was calling me for real, not completing the sentence in my mind. My first name is Chizaram, ‘chizzy’ and my middle name is, well, Daisy. Preye prefers the latter.

Before I could say R-, he extends a serviette swiftly towards my mouth to eliminate the sauce I had at the corner of my lip. Or was it drool? For a second, this gesture completely swept me off my feet and I couldn't remember what I was eating. Even the cramps that seemed to be after my life and had me rolling on the floor about an hour before his arrival was now almost nonexistent. Turns out all I needed was some TLC (Tender, loving care) from Preye. Oh, I could get used to this!

I give a warm smile as I take another chunky slice of the Shawarma he had bought me earlier because I had a craving. “Checking you out for what? Don’t flatter yourself. I'm really just enjoying this.” I say, in-between mouthfuls, “It’s really good.”

“You know you eat like a toddler sometimes, right?” he gives a deep chuckle, and tickles my feet.

I jolted–not from the tickle–but at his statement, sparking up a familiar memory. My face fell when I remembered how my stepmother would often say she disliked taking me out to parties because I'd embarrass her with the way I ate. Although I think I've gotten quite better as I don't chew loudly anymore, sometimes when I get too comfortable or alone, I forget my manners and get messy when eating. My cooking is no different. I sometimes wonder if I'll be able to keep a man. Well, Preye already thinks I'm a keeper, so…that’s solved.

“Not you looking sad!” he lowered his gaze. “I honestly find your messy eating adorable.”

Nothing about what Preye said was rude or hurtful, although a thought started nagging at the back of my mind. It was one of those insecurities I never liked to talk about, but with Preye, I felt like I could say anything.

“Na so! Will you still think so in ten years?” I asked, refraining from adding if we're still together.

He straightens himself and lets out a sigh, already sensing the seriousness in my tone. I could see he was about to give a reply when I butt in.

“Will you still find my messy eating and clumsiness adorable? One of my exes once referred to me as being gravitationally-challenged.” I let out a dry laugh and continued, “How about my lack of glamour? How makeup or heels or dresses are not my favourite thing. Then, there's my nervous habit—the fact that I can sigh up to a hundred times. Have you actually seen me speak to myself like a crazy person? Or pace unrelentingly or chew on my lip? And oh! Let's not even forget about my interesting flatulence when I laugh hard…”

Preye gives an understanding chuckle, as he clears his throat to speak, but I interrupt again. A bad habit.

“Importantly, I know we made the decision to abstain from sexual intimacy until marriage. But when we finally get married and we, uh, you know do the deed? Would you still desire me if I don’t look exactly how you imagined? I don’t have a flawless skin, or the perfect body type. I hate to bring up the fact that we’re not each other’s firsts, but I can't help it sometimes. Somehow, the church doesn't like to talk about compatibility, but these are some actual issues. Aren't you bothered by these things?”

I give a pause when I realize Preye had an uneasy look on his face. Am I scaring him off? Where are all of these thoughts coming from anyway?

Preye slowly turns to face me, removing a stray lock of hair from my face, and slightly above a whisper, says, “It’s taking me everything–” he firmly closes his eyes, and continues, “everything–but most especially God's grace, not to hush you with a very passionate kiss right now to prove you wrong.”

I hit his arms playfully and whine in the voice of my inner child as I immediately cover my face.

“Tamunopreye, I'm serious...”

“Well, me, too. What are you even on about?”

I peep through my fingers, and I still see him grinning, clearly enjoying this. The nerve of this human!

“Are you going to remove your hands from your face, so we could have this conversation, ehn?”

When he sees I won’t budge, he clears his throat and whispers, “Okay, fine. If this is about me mentioning wanting to kiss you, you know that's not happening yet, right? I was only kidding.”

Was he?

At this, I slowly lift my hands from my face and it takes everything in me to look Preye in the eye at that moment. My heart races, and for some reason, we both get awfully quiet, our gaze at each other lingering—a silent question, a quiet longing.

But why is Preye suddenly looking irresistible? Seeming like he is having a contemplation, my eyes fall on his lips for a brief second. Time seems to stand still, and the tension between us, getting deliciously unbearable. One wrong move from either of us, and I could swear we would let out all our pent-up emotions, especially since my flatmate, Tseju, wasn't around. Although Preye and I have been dating for over a year, we haven't so much as shared a kiss yet because we had clearly defined boundaries. And so far, God has helped us.

Chim’o! Why do I suddenly want him to eat up his words and actually kiss me? Chizzy, abi Daisy, whatever you're thinking–No!

“So, you were saying?” I ask, biting my lip, trying to suppress how vulnerable I was feeling. But my eyes and gestures were saying otherwise. I know this because Preye shakes his head slightly, probably against an inward suggestion. It was at this point that realization hit me–I must have been obvious.

Continue this conversation outside.

It was effortless sensing that God was providing us a way of escape out of this brewing temptation. But outside, really? My flesh was fighting the thought as my eyes were still on Preye, wanting him to do something about our situation. By something, I mean, to cater to my gnawing needs. Preye, better kiss me right now or I faint. Lord, please help me.

Take the way out. It has no regrets.

As Preye clears his throat, about to speak, I immediately interjected to submit to what the Holy Spirit’s beckoning, “Babe, I'm sorry to cut you out again—I promise this is the last time—”

Preye gives me a knowing look.

“Er, maybe we can continue this conversation outside?”

“Whoa! Yes, please. I was literally about to say the same,” Preye says, helping me to my feet almost immediately.

Ouch. So, there really is no kiss happening today?

By the time we get to the balcony, Preye ensures I'm comfortable on my seat as he cushions my back with a pillow before taking his seat across from me.

My emotions were more normalized and perhaps Preye’s own was, too. Thank God for the Holy Spirit. We were hardly in compromising situations, such as what was about to transpire earlier, especially with Tseju being around when Preye visited. But she needed to attend to run some errands for her folks, and Preye came visiting because I was in so much pain earlier.

“Daisy, thank you for taking initiative. You know, for a second, I felt tempted to prove your questioning our compatibility wrong right there on the spot. But that would have been such a selfish and dishonouring path to tread, especially since I know where we stand on physical intimacy. I was…” he gesticulates, “this close to making out with you on that couch, and I don't want to imagine what that would have led to. Plus, we don't need that right now. What we need is some counseling and more prayers, especially now that we're engaged,” Preye confessed.

“Yeah, right? Gosh! I also can’t believe I was giving you the green light, too. I'm sorry. ” I withdrew one of my hands from him and placed it on my temple. “Ovulation and periods often bring out the crazy in me.” At this, I immediately feel a slight pang of pain in my lower abdomen as though the silly thing was saying ‘Hey, I can hear you loud and clear.’

“No, you're not going to blame yourself or your cycle.” He lovingly raises up my chin, “Hey, listen, it’s not your fault. Your feelings are valid, and I find it strengthening that we can share our thoughts and feelings like this…”

I sigh heavily, making a mental note not to interrupt him any longer because I want to listen to his thoughts with rapt attention. Preye has a fascinating mind. Wait and see.

In 3,2,1…

Preye begins, “Chizaram Daisy Ike, I think it's also fair that I run some thoughts by you.”

“What makes you want to go be with a biggie–actually–an ‘orobo’ like me? Recently, I heard someone refer to those with my body type as estate gates, occupying a lot of space.”

My teddy bear, my bouncer, my estate gate. I chuckle inwardly, as I realise I have more silly terms of endearment for him.

Preye continues, “On some days, my perspiration can fill up a jar. Then, there's my very embarrassing night snores. You know? I'm no rockstar, so I won't be able to serenade you with your favourite songs. I know you like to dance, but newsflash honey, I'm a very clumsy dancer.”

I don't know why, but I begin to tear up, listening to Preye speak with so much enthusiasm.

“I'm a grown man, but needles still make me cry. Chizaram, I hate to admit, but I'm afraid of rats and roaches. What else? Uh, yes, I have an enormous appetite and prefer home-cooked meals, but I understand the kitchen is not your favourite place…”

“And, well, regarding your concerns about—” he placed air-quotes, “doing the deed.”

“I want you to know that we're not marrying an image or an ideal—we're marrying each other. Every part of you, inside and out, is what I’m choosing, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I believe that compatibility goes beyond physical attraction and the initial sexual performance. It’s about how we communicate, how we care for each other, how we’re willing to be vulnerable and grow together. And I know that as we learn from each other in that way, we’ll find our rhythm.”

“When we finally share those moments, it’s not about perfection or living up to some unrealistic standard. It’s about us—our love, our connection, our journey together. I’m not looking for some flawless experience. Thankfully, God's grace has helped me trash porn for good. So, yeah, I’m looking forward to being with you, and bringing you pleasure in all your clumsy, quirky, beautiful, and real self.”

He winks at me, his grin widening. “So no, I'm not bothered. In fact, what bothers me is how on earth I’m going to keep my cool waiting until we finally consummate this beautiful union. I guess that’s a good problem to have, right?” he giggles.

With a mock-seriousness on his face, he added “And just so your mind is at rest, having sex, or rather, making love to you as my wife, that will never be second best. I'll make sure of that, and you, my love, better keep the end of your bargain, too. No pressure, though, but start preparing yourself for lots and lots of you-know-what,” Preye winks.

I burst out laughing, shaking my head as I lightly smack his arm. “Okay, I think you're beginning to creep me out. Stop it, I like it,” I tease back, covering my face with my hands.

“But seriously though, Daisy, we may not be perfect, but I want you to know that I, Tamunopreye, am committed to loving you with all my heart,” Preye’s voice is steady and full of warmth. “This is the essence of true love, not that we're perfect but that we choose each other, flaws, quirks, and all. Yeah, there are things we can get better with, but I want us to figure them out as a team, okay?”

I smile through the last of my tears, feeling a deep sense of reassurance wash over me. “Yes, O’bim. I’m willing to embrace every part of this journey with you—flaws, quirks, and all.”

“Good.” He gives my hand a gentle squeeze and, with a mischievous glint in his eye, says, “So, just to be clear, you’re okay with the snoring? Because once it starts, there’s no going back.”

“I’ll just get you some of those nose strips. They work like magic... or so I’ve heard,” I chuckle, matching his tease.

“Good luck with that,” he says with a laugh. “I’ve tried them all—I’m a lost cause.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to invest in some effective earplugs then,” I shot back. “Plus, as long as you're alright with me letting out my small noise every now and then…I'm content.”

We both collapse into giggles, the heaviness of the earlier conversation now replaced by pure, silly joy. The whole teasing about my flatulence must have invoked it because I let out a small noise soon enough.

“Oooops!” I said, placing my hand on my mouth.

“...a-daisy,” Preye gave me a knowing look as he mockingly held his breath. Pun intended.

“You just had to show your true colour.”

“Duh!” I stuck out my tongue playfully. “Get used to it, my darling.”

“I’ll make sure to keep a can of air freshener on hand at all times.” Preye leans in slightly, his voice soft but filled with emotion. “I love you, Daisy, your smelly fat and all.”

A warm smile spread across my face as I respond with, “I love you too, Preye. Let’s continue to build this love that honours God and strengthens us both. No matter what challenges come our way, I want us to face them together.”

“Absolutely...” Preye's phone beeps, and he glanced at the screen briefly. “Funny timing. I just got a reminder about our marriage counseling starting next week. You ready for this?”

I sigh softly, “The counseling? I guess. It’s the wedding planning and inevitable family drama I’m a bit nervous about. But with you by my side, I know we can handle anything.”

Preye leans forward slightly, his eyes soft and reassuring as they met mine. "Maybe it won’t always be easy, but we’ll face it together. The planning, the family, the future—whatever comes our way, we’ve got this.”

Oh, I can't wait to be married to this man! My teddy bear, bouncer and estate gate. The Bible says I’m thoroughly furnished for good works. Well, I'm equally thoroughly finished a lover girl, and my name is Chizaram Daisy Ike.

Yours truly,

Oops-a-daisy.

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Three stories down, one more to go! How's it been so far? Daisy and Preye are quite the pair, don't you think? Would you share your thoughts on this in the comments? Your feedbacks go a long, long way. So, please, don't hoard ’em.

My busy schedule aside, this series has been quite stretching and fun for me lol. A good challenge for me!

🚨: Up next - So, friends? (23/08).

Catch up on the previous short stories:

• What a night

• Paper hearts

Thank you for reading. Thrive in God's love. 💛

Yours in Quality time,

Adebola🦋.