Chelmsford Charm
"Event coordinator Folake plans weddings for others—until a thick Kenyan bride-to-be confesses she wants to call off everything and run away with the planner instead."
Wambui's wedding was supposed to be perfect.
Country house. Three hundred guests. A groom everyone approved of.
Except Wambui herself.
"I can't do this," she confessed to Folake during the final planning meeting. "It's all wrong."
"Cold feet are normal—"
"It's not cold feet." Those thick curves shifted as she turned. "It's you."
"Me?"
"I've been falling for you for months. Every meeting, every consultation. Watching you work. Wanting you."
"Wambui, you're getting married in four days."
"To someone I don't love." She approached. "To a man, when I want a woman."
"This is—"
"Crazy? Yes. But is it wrong to finally want what's real?"
Folake should have refused.
Instead, she kissed Wambui in that country house, surrounded by wedding decorations meant for someone else.
"What do we do?" Wambui breathed.
"Whatever you want."
"I want to leave. Tonight. With you."
They disappeared together.
The wedding was cancelled. The scandal was enormous.
Neither cared.
In a quiet Chelmsford cottage, they built something real.
"Any regrets?" Folake asked after the first night together.
"Only that I waited so long." Wambui kissed her. "I should have run sooner."
Folake's thick body fit perfectly against Wambui's.
They made love like women who'd waited lifetimes for each other. No hesitation. No shame. Just desire finally unleashed.
"I love you," Wambui said.
"I love you too."
Words neither had planned to say.
Eventually, Wambui's family forgave her.
The groom moved on. The scandal faded.
What remained was two women building a life together.
"Best wedding I never had," Wambui joked.
"Best client I ever stole," Folake agreed.
Chelmsford had seen dramatic weddings before.
But never a more romantic escape.