Woke up his wife

Chapter Four

Married, trails and hate

She hadn't even stepped two feet into the ballroom before she felt it—the shift.

Eyes moved toward her like whispers. Cameras clicked, fake smiles bloomed like weeds, and behind every air-kiss and handshake, Tammy could feel it.

The judgment.

Jeremy had his arm linked with hers, posture relaxed, face composed. But she could feel the tension in his fingers, the stiffness just beneath his tailored suit. He was acting. Just like her.

A tall woman in gold shimmered toward them like a walking chandelier. "Jeremy!" she squealed, kissing the air near his cheek. "We've missed you at the last few socials."

"Board duties," he replied with an easy grin. "Elodie, this is my wife, Tamilore."

Elodie's gaze swept over Tammy in a single blink. "Wife? Oh my. That's new." Her smile was stiff, eyes sharp. "How...modern."

Tammy smiled tightly. "Nice to meet you."

"So sorry," Elodie said, faux sweetness dripping. "Are you related to the Ogunyemis? You look like you could be. Or perhaps the Ajayis from Banana Island?"

Tammy opened her mouth, but Jeremy cut in. "No. Tami's not from any of those families."

"Oh," Elodie said. One word, loaded. "Well. You look...fresh."

Tammy's jaw tightened. "Thanks."

As Elodie floated off, another woman leaned in close, this one older and wrapped in lace and passive aggression.

"Darling," she said in a hushed voice. "Don't take it to heart. The wives here can be a little territorial. You're not the first outsider, you know. But…you might be the youngest."

Tammy forced a nod.

She wasn't wearing the most expensive gown. She hadn't grown up vacationing in the Maldives or attending charity teas. She didn't walk with that casual, inherited confidence. These women didn't see her as a threat—they saw her as an inconvenience.

And Jeremy?

He hadn't said a word.

Not once did he look down or ask if she was okay. Not once did he acknowledge how hard she was trying to keep it together.

By the time they reached the corner of the hall where champagne flowed like water and the orchestral quartet played something classical, Tammy was ready to go home.

He leaned in slightly. "Smile."

"I am smiling."

"People are watching."

"I noticed."

"You're tense."

"You're observant."

He said nothing.

They spent another hour moving from group to group. Tammy answered polite questions about where she went to school (UNILAG), what her parents did (pastor and retired nurse), and what she did before the marriage (graphic design student).

The answers didn't satisfy anyone.

She was too ordinary.

Too unremarkable.

One woman didn't even hide her smirk when Tammy said she was interning before everything blew up. "An intern? How refreshing. And now, you're…Mrs. Adebayo. Quite the leap, my dear."

Tammy wanted to scream.

Instead, she smiled.

---

Back in the car, the silence was brittle.

Jeremy removed his tie.

She folded her arms. "You just let them talk to me like that."

"I didn't realize you needed a bodyguard."

She turned sharply. "Seriously?"

"They weren't wrong," he said simply, scrolling through his phone. "You're not from their world."

"I'm not from your world. Doesn't mean I don't belong in it."

"Doesn't mean you do either."

Tammy looked away, stung.

She hated that she let them get to her. Hated it more that he just sat there, letting her drown in it.

The driver pulled into the underground garage, and she got out before Jeremy even unbuckled.

---

By the next morning, her picture was everywhere.

"Jeremy Adebayo's Mystery Bride – Lagos' New Cinderella?"

"Intern to Billionaire's Wife – Who is Tamilore Coker?"

"The Silent Bride: Why Jeremy Adebayo's Wife Isn't Speaking to the Press"

Her Instagram had over 90,000 new followers.

Bloggers were digging through old Facebook photos, reposting blurry shots of her in class, at church, with Kunle.

The one photo of her at her project defense—hair in a bun, glasses slipping down her nose—was suddenly a meme.

From Final Year to Final Boss Wife.

Tammy threw her phone across the couch.

Anjii video-called immediately.

"You've gone viral again. This time with memes."

Tammy groaned.

"They're calling you The Silent Wife. Kinda hot, actually."

"Shut up."

"But real talk," Anjii said, sobering. "Are you okay?"

Tammy hesitated. "No. But I can't afford not to be."

---

Jeremy, meanwhile, was in his office, facing a different war.

Tony Balogun sat across from him, legs crossed, fake smile loaded. "The press is going wild."

Jeremy didn't look up. "They'll calm down."

"You sure about that? People don't like sudden moves. You went from single golden boy to married in a night."

Jeremy dropped the file on his desk. "Is there a point to this visit?"

Tony shrugged. "Only that if you want to save your reputation—and the company—you'll need to do more than parade her around in fancy dresses."

"I've got it under control."

"Do you?" Tony's voice dropped. "Because if she slips, even once, the board won't hesitate. They're watching you both."

Jeremy's eyes flicked up. "Is that a threat?"

Tony stood. "It's a fact."

He left without another word.

Jeremy remained still.

Only his jaw moved.

Grinding.

---

Later that day, Tammy walked into the kitchen to find Claudia—Jeremy's PR lead—in the middle of setting up a laptop and camera equipment.

"Um. What's going on?"

Claudia gave her a tight smile. "We're doing a quick recorded interview. Light and clean. You'll answer ten pre-approved questions about how you met, how married life is, and what charities you're passionate about."

Tammy blinked. "I didn't agree to this."

Jeremy walked in, tie half-done. "You agreed to the contract. This is part of it."

"No," she said, stepping back. "I agreed to public appearances. Not full-blown lies on video."

"It's harmless."

"It's humiliating."

They stared at each other.

Claudia cleared her throat. "Should I give you two a minute?"

"No," Tammy said, without breaking eye contact. "Start the damn video."

The interview began. Tammy smiled through all ten questions. She laughed when asked about Jeremy's hobbies, said they bonded over their "love for private spaces," and talked about their "unexpected but beautiful connection."

By the end, her face hurt.

Claudia clapped. "Perfect. Editing will smooth out any—"

"No edits," Tammy said coldly. "Let the world see exactly how fake this is."

Jeremy didn't say a word.

He didn't have to.

Tammy walked out first.

But it didn't feel like a win.

---

The next morning, Jeremy's inbox exploded.

Investor: "Is she always that cold on camera?"

Board member: "What happened to warmth?"

PR: "This isn't working. People think she's a trophy or a hostage."

He leaned back in his chair.

The contract was clear.

But people didn't want a contract.

They wanted a love story.

He slammed his laptop shut.

---

Tammy was brushing her teeth when she got the call.

Unknown number.

She answered, expecting a reporter.

Instead, it was her old internship supervisor.

"Tammy. It's Blessing. We just saw your video with…your husband."

Tammy swallowed. "Yeah?"

"Listen, I spoke to HR. We think it's best if you don't come back for the final leg of the internship."

"What?"

"There's been noise. Sponsors asking questions. Your presence might be...distracting."

Tammy's heart sank. "So you're dropping me?"

"I'm so sorry. It's the board's call."

The line went dead.

She stood there, phone shaking in her hand, mouth still full of foam.

---

In the living room, she found Jeremy sipping coffee.

"You happy now?" she asked, voice low.

He looked up. "What?"

"My internship dropped me."

He frowned slightly. "Why?"

"Because I'm your wife."

He didn't respond.

Tammy laughed bitterly. "I lost everything. And you don't even blink."

"You'll get better offers."

"I didn't want better. I wanted mine."

Jeremy stood. "I didn't ask for this either."

"Yeah, but you got what you wanted. I'm the one paying for it."

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

Tammy turned and left, slamming her door behind her.

He didn't follow.

He sat back down and sipped his coffee.

It tasted like ash.