The Wedding Ring – Episode 2 The Wedding Ring – Episode 2 Chike sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the golden band glinting on the pillow. His heart pounded in his chest, loud enough that he thought it might betray him to whoever had set this trap. This isn’t real, he whispered to himself. It has to be a prank. But deep down, he knew no one had ever cared enough to play games with him. And nothing about this felt like a joke. The phone buzzed again. Same number. “Room service will knock in two minutes. Act natural.” Chike jumped to his feet, scanning the room. His jacket was tossed across a chair, his shoes neatly by the wall. The minibar was open. Two wine glasses sat on the table — one half-full, one empty. He grabbed the wedding ring. It was heavy, warm, as though someone had worn it only moments ago. He clenched it in his fist just as the knock came. “Room service,” a woman’s voice said. Chike froze. He wanted to yell that it was a mistake, but something inside told him to play along. Slowly, he opened the door. A smiling young woman in a hotel uniform wheeled in a breakfast tray. Scrambled eggs, bread rolls, steaming tea, fresh fruit. She placed it neatly on the table and bowed slightly. “Your wife asked me to set this up,” she said cheerfully. Chike’s throat tightened. “My… wife?” “Yes, sir. She stepped out earlier but asked that you wait for her. She’ll be back shortly.” Chike’s knees nearly gave out. He forced a nod and slipped her a tip just to get her out of the room. When the door finally clicked shut, he exhaled shakily. Wife? What wife? He searched the room again, this time with frantic urgency. He pulled open drawers, checked under the bed, even scanned the bathroom. Nothing. No bags, no clothes, no sign of another person. Then he noticed it. On the nightstand — a small, velvet box. His hands shook as he opened it. Inside was a matching wedding band… and a folded note. The note read: “For better, for worse. Till death do us part.” Suddenly, the phone rang again. Not a message this time — an actual call. The same unknown number. Chike hesitated, then answered. “Hello?” A soft female voice responded. “You didn’t forget our special day, did you, darling?” Chike’s blood turned to ice. “I… I don’t know who you are,” he stammered. The woman chuckled softly. It was warm, almost affectionate, yet laced with something sinister. “Oh, you know me, Chike. You’ve always known me. And now, the whole city will know too. Meet me at the lobby in ten minutes… husband.” The line went dead. Chike dropped the phone and staggered back onto the bed, clutching the ring. His mind raced. He had two choices: Walk into that lobby and face whoever was waiting. Escape before it was too late. But deep down, he knew escape was impossible. Whoever this “wife” was, she had already trapped him. The clock on the wall ticked toward 9:00 AM. Nine minutes left. TO BE CONTINUED…