"What God has joined, men must not divide" the priest said, concluding the declaration of consent. He blessed the rings, and gave the couple room.
Chris, the groom, placed the wedding ring on Maria's - bride - ring finger, "Take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."
he said.
Their witnesses said amen and broke into a rapturous applause.
Maria did the same with her wedding ring, feeling complete. But, who wouldn't feel complete with Chris - he's good looking, got fat pay cheque, except facts like him being a blind bat by tomorrow.
Without waiting for signal from the priest, he met her in a lip lock, and withdraw at intervals to look at that pretty face which he might not be opportune to see from tomorrow.
Accompanied by their parents, the couple sat before the priest and catechist, ready to put their union in writing.
In front of them was a plastic table, with a pen and a certificate lying on it's surface.
Chris smiled, stretched forth his hand from were he sat next to his bride on a fine decorated chair, to pick the pen, but found it many, and worse, with several certificates littered on the table like dirt.
He kept his hand there for a while, turned his gaze to his wife and found it difficult recognizing her.
Tears escaped his eyes, but he bravely blinked them back, it's tough, accepting that his greatest fear is slowly getting real.
Before, he thought his blindness would knock on his door like the Jehovah's Witness, but now he learned, it need not knock to devour his sight.
He threw in the towel, surrendered his fate to his Lord's divine mercy and hoped his blindness would end up a nine day's wonder.
Their parents smiled, and so did the priest - they misquote his tears for joy, had they known the situation, they would've spoken in tongues or even sought for holy water to inject into his eyes for healing purposes - Christians are good at those.
Maria held his hand, leaned closer to his ear, "Don't worry, darling, I'm here," she brightly lit her face, and supported him through the signing.
How romantic!
They rushed their matrimonial service, and flew to Abia State University Teaching Hospital in Aba for his cataract surgery, with their parents and witnesses thinking they were abroad for their honeymoon.
Few minutes before entering the theater, from where he lain on a stretcher, with eyes shut and tired of seeing nothing, he demanded his wife's ear-time. "Don't worry, honey, I will see that pretty face of yours, again, the moment the surgery gets completed." he said.
Though he wasn't being realistic, it's worth it, as, of all people, he needs to encourage himself, positively.
Several hours after the surgery, Maria stood miserable - she left her hair loose, stood barefoot in her not-too-clean wedding gown, near her husband's bed, whilst listening to series of advice like the one month compulsory sexual abstinence, no smoking of cigarette, amongst others, from the medical doctor.
"Doctor, he's awake,"
"Thank goodness, you made it, Chris," the doctor said, "So tell me, how many fingers do you see?" he put three fingers up, to test Chris' sight.
"Doctor, I see nothing. Nothing, at all."
"Chi m!" Maria held her hands above her head - an act typical of Igbo women.
"Hey, don't cry, you already look miserable barefooted,"
"Come on, darling, don't try such expensive jokes with me, ever again," she embraced him in a French kiss, for what seemed like eternity.
"Please, don't do that, it would only lead to sex. Remember, I said no sex, not even a quickee. Please, madam, try and understand. Sex will encumber his recovery," he tried separating them, but to no avail.
Maria turned, gave him a 'don't let me catch you' look.
"Sorry, madam. You. You. May. Ca. Carry on."
.
# thanks_for_reading
©Oluebube Ogbonnaya
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