He didn't dare to imagine what the kitchen and bedroom might look like.
'How can anyone live in this mess? Much less a woman! Aren't women supposed to be more organized than men? Wait... maybe she doesn't have cleaning tools and plans to buy them later. Yes, that must be it.'
Reassured by this thought, he carefully stepped inside, his shoes crunching over bits of trash. Reaching the sofa, he spotted a vacuum cleaner behind it and felt even more baffled.
'If it's right here and so accessible, why not just use it?!'
This was turning into a nightmare, one he desperately wanted to wake up from.
Olaedo noticed his behavior and looked down, her face flushing red with embarrassment. She tried to convince herself otherwise. 'It's my home. I'll keep it the way I want. There's no need to be ashamed.'
But seeing Chibuzor frozen in one place, she begrudgingly decided to clean up a little. Admittedly, the ashes were a bit much.
She grabbed the vacuum cleaner and started working on the pile of ashes. Chibuzor watched her flustered face and couldn't suppress a low chuckle. Shaking his head, he stepped forward. 'Even if this is a fake marriage, it's for better or for worse, right?'
He gingerly began picking up trash, holding each piece between his thumb and forefinger, trying his best not to let anything else touch him.
"Hey! What are you doing? Just wait outside. I'll be done soon," Olaedo protested.
Chibuzor glanced up, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "If I wait for you, we might not leave here even after five days. How can your house be this dirty?"
Olaedo's face turned a deeper shade of red as she waved at him dismissively. "Sure, sure. Just do whatever you want."
To her amazement, he continued picking up trash with his two-finger technique, surprisingly fast despite his hesitance. Soon, he moved on to the clothes piled on the sofa.
They managed to clean the entire living room in five hours, eventually tackling the kitchen, bedrooms, and even the toilets, though Olaedo handled the toilets and her bedroom herself. Afterall, Chibuzor's "two-finger technique" had its limits.
Finally done, Chibuzor sank into the now clean sofa and pulled out his laptop to work while waiting for her to pack her things.
Meanwhile, Olaedo moved about silently, but a nagging question refused to leave her mind.
'Out of all the eligible women in the world, why did Chibuzor choose me?'
She wanted to ask but wasn't sure if it was appropriate. Then she remembered her mother's words. While she wasn't planning to fall in love again, she figured it wouldn't hurt to develop a friendly philia bond with her new husband. After all, that wouldn't violate the contract.
"CEO Arinze," she began hesitantly, "there's something I need to know."
Hearing her formal address, Chibuzor frowned. 'This is going to be a problem if anyone hears it.'
"Don't be so formal. In public, you should call me honey, dear, hubby, whatever fits the role. In private, just call me Chibuzor. It'll help you get used to it, and if you slip up in public, at least my name is still acceptable. But let's not overdo the cringy nicknames unless absolutely necessary. Now, what's your question?"
Olaedo rolled her eyes at his instructions but took note of the correction. "Alright... Chibuzor. Why did you pick me out of all the eligible women in the world?"
Chibuzor froze. 'Should I tell her the truth, that she wasn't even on my list? Would she get angry? Well, honesty is the best policy. She might as well know where she stands.'
"I made a list of women who fit my taste," he admitted. "You weren't on it. I asked my housekeeper to arrange meetings with them, but none of them showed up. Mostly because he didn't tell them who I was or what I wanted. If he had, I'm sure many would've come. With no other options, he saw your scandal, did some basic research on you, and contacted you. Surprisingly, you agreed to meet."
Olaedo stared at him, speechless. 'Who chooses a wife this way? Still, at least he was honest.' She had been worried she had fallen into some elaborate trap, that he had been secretly obsessed with her or something. His bluntness was oddly reassuring.
"Okay," she said simply. "That's a relief."
Chibuzor blinked. 'A relief?' He had expected anger, not this calm acceptance.
Olaedo thought back to his peculiar method of choosing a wife and couldn't suppress a small smile. "Is everything a business to you? You made a list, came up with a catchy proposal, wrote a loophole-proof contract, and arranged a marriage process that should've taken a month in just one day."
Chibuzor caught her amused expression and pursed his lips. 'What's so funny about being organized?'
Organization was a normal way of life, or so he thought.
"It's normal to stay organized at all times. I've always wondered how people manage without planning. It's probably why the top feels so spacious, while the bottom is crowded. People dream big but aren't willing to plan toward achieving those dreams."
Olaedo nodded thoughtfully. "It's true. I may seem like a disorganized person, but when it comes to my work, I make time to plan years ahead. After all, if you aren't consciously planning to succeed, you're unconsciously planning to fail, and fail hard."
"Exactly!" Chibuzor's face lit up. It was refreshing to connect with someone who understood this. He had grown tired of explaining to people why they remained stagnant year after year. This was different, two successful CEOs speaking the same language.
Olaedo began packing quickly, aware that it was getting late. Everything added up to three boxes. Chibuzor quietly carried two of them downstairs. She thanked him, picked up the remaining box, and locked her door before following him to the car.
As Chibuzor drove toward his house, his thoughts drifted back to the pile of ashes he had seen earlier. He couldn't suppress a shiver. "Olaedo, why was there a pile of ashes in front of your bedroom door?"
Olaedo pursed her lips, staring out of the window. She remained silent, unwilling to answer. Chibuzor decided to drop the topic; after all, everyone had things they preferred not to talk about.
The steady breeze through the open window eventually lulled Olaedo into much-needed sleep.
Noticing this, Chibuzor eased his foot off the accelerator and drove more slowly. As they passed through a gate, the security guards greeted him in unison, but he gestured for them to keep their voices down.
He parked the car in a medium-sized warehouse, where five other luxury vehicles were neatly lined up. Now, a new problem emerged: what was he supposed to do with the sleeping woman beside him?
'Should I leave her in the car and come back for her later? There's no way I'm carrying her, it's against the contract. Not to mention, I don't even want to!'
Chibuzor sighed, deciding to wait. He pulled out his laptop, plugged in his earphones, and resumed working.
He glanced at Olaedo, noting how her neck was twisted at an awkward angle that would undoubtedly cause pain later. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to intervene, it would be an unnecessary breach of their agreement.
'I'll get her a massage cream later,' he thought, brushing away any guilt.
------------------------------
Five hours later.
Olaedo stirred awake, immediately feeling the stiff ache in her neck. She blinked at her surroundings, her gaze landing on the gleaming rows of luxury cars. Each one seemed more expensive than the last.
The rhythmic sound of fingers typing drew her attention. She turned to Chibuzor, still sitting in the driver's seat, his laptop balanced on his lap.
"What's happening?" she asked groggily.
Chibuzor looked up, offering her a weary smile that bordered on unsettling. "You sleep like a log."
Only then did Olaedo realize that the windows were pitch black, indicating the lateness of the hour. "How long did I sleep?" she asked, disbelief creeping into her voice.
"Five hours," Chibuzor replied. "Five hours in such an uncomfortable position. You must be really tired."
Olaedo's jaw dropped in shock. Then, gradually, she nodded in reluctant agreement. The past week had been anything but easy.
Wait...
"You knew the position was uncomfortable and still left me like that?!" she demanded, her fury igniting.
Chibuzor nodded calmly, his expression unrepentant. "I did nothing wrong. I just followed the rules of the contract."
Smash!
Olaedo's fist connected with his arm, making Chibuzor yelp in shock.
"Have some of my pain, you heartless man!" she snapped.
Clutching his arm, Chibuzor groaned. "Are your hands made of iron? How can they hurt this much?!"
Olaedo snorted as she opened the car door, stepping out while rubbing her aching neck.
Of course her hands hurt. She had dedicated years to mastering kung fu.
Chibuzor packed his laptop and followed her out begrudgingly. 'If I had known she was this strong, I would've put her on the list—the list of women the housekeeper must avoid at all costs. I would even circle her picture with a red marker for emphasis.'
'Is it too late to end this marriage?'
Hey readers! As we dive deeper into this unlikely pairing, I wanted to explore how two strong-willed individuals handle forced proximity and emotional boundaries.
The messiness of their relationship mirrors the chaos in Olaedo’s house, and maybe in their lives, too! I hope you enjoyed Chibuzor’s two-finger cleaning method as much as I did writing it.
Let’s discuss: Was leaving her asleep for five hours a breach of trust, or a hilarious nod to their agreement?