“Do you Adaeze Valery Okeke, take Frank Chidindu Maduka to be your wedded husband …”

Adaeze’s mind was almost absent. She could barely hear the words clearly no matter how hard she tried. This should have been the happiest moment of her life but her heart had been shattered by a secret that was too painful to bear.

Frank, on the other hand, is seriously blinded by love. He held her,  staring too long , completely trusting her. And in that second, just when she turned around, Adaeze saw him. The very man who had been the reason for her pain all these years.

Her very own father. The man she completely depended on for shelter and believed would protect her.

Back then, she had just returned back after get first semester at UNILORIN in excitement. Her father, well respected in their community, had welcomed her back. She unpacked and was coming out of the bathroom in towels after taking a shower only to be dragged into his bedroom. He forcefully took off the towel and locked the door. Her eyes were full of tears as she fought to stand up. He had just drugged her water, leaving her helpless on his bed. He tarnished her trust and silenced her screams, leaving her with a guilt that would never fade.

She cried out, but who would even believe her? She was helpless even with or without evidence. So she learnt to swallow the truth, burying it beneath obedience and shame.

Now, in her wedding gown, that shame and guilt couldn't let her breath. She turned to the audience, including friends who laughed when strangers spoke of “other girls” who’d been hurt. They would mock victims of random assaults, never guessing that Adaeze is also a victim, not to a friend or relative, but hey father.

She tried to focus that very moment Frank put the ring on her finger. She tried hard to smile but hey efforts weren't enough. Three years of love, trust and broken promises—and she had withheld the truth of her pain.

Earlier that week, over suya and beer with Frank’s friend, she’d listened to a story about a bride rejected for hiding hey infertility. Those words couldn't leave her head: *“A marriage needs truth,”* he had said, shaking his head in disappointment. And now, standing before God and witnesses, she wondered if love alone was enough.

Adaeze’s chest was pounding faster than our should. The music suddenly louder to her. Frank’s eagerly waited for *her* answer.

She took a deep breath. Her secret wound was as fresh as new. She could feel all suppressed cries of that night as if they had just happened yesterday.

There was complete silence.

And in that moment, the space between *I do* and *I don’t* was over a mile. She realized just how cruel and painful it is when the only way to survive and remain whole is to lie. All because of someone who never deserved trust.