They said that girls dreamed of their wedding day all their lives. Not Mojolaoluwa. She stared into the full length mirror in her hotel room and almost couldn’t recognize her face. It was her wedding day, and she had got the face beat of the century. Face beat was the term used to explain what professional makeup artists did to your face to turn you into another person. Most girls had their faces beaten every time they had a party, went on a date, or somebody got married, but Mojolaoluwa was not most girls. The luxury of a face beat was reserved exclusively for her wedding day. She thought she looked beautiful, like an exotic flower that only Archangel Michael could name because it only grew in the garden of Eden. Her wedding dress, a beautiful mermaid dress that did everything to accentuate her generous bosom and voluptuous curves, was designed by an award winning fashion designer that was her fiancé’s cousin. Her red bottom shoes were on the bed, she would never understand the craze for Louboutin shoes, but Tolu had insisted it was the way to be married in style, and Korede had ordered custom made jewelry for the perfect finishing touch, but she hadn’t dreamed about her wedding day until her first bridal dress fitting. That was when it dawned on her that she was going to be married. There was a part of her that thought that because it had happened once before, something would go horribly wrong and the bubble of their relationship would burst, leaving them to go their separate ways. So she waited, almost perversely thinking that if she expected it, it wouldn’t hurt as much as if she didn’t, because the other time it had hurt so bad. So she had had no dreams of a wedding when she knew she was in love with Korede, not when he first told her he loved her and he would die if she left him, and not even when he bought her the BMW for her 30th birthday, even though that was one day she knew she would never forget.