Chapter 0002

Amara Nicholas;

"Dad, I don't want to go to the city. I don't want to marry a city man," I protested, tears gathering in my eyes.

My father stood up from the blue couch. He is a very tall man with dark skin, unlike me and my mother, who are both light-skinned.

My father sighed and said, "Amara, we are not disowning you as our daughter. You will always be our daughter, but you must start your own life and family to give your mother and me grandchildren. We do not want you to leave us, but we cannot trust all these people here to look after you. So, your mother and I decided that you should go to the city, where you will be genuinely loved, not by greedy people who may be pretending with you to gain favor from us."

"Dad!" Tears flowed freely from my eyes like a waterfall, and my mother stood up and walked up to me.

"You don't have to cry. I can assure you that the Briggs family are good people, and Mr. Joshua Briggs is my childhood friend. You will be treated well when you get to their family house," my father said, leaving me speechless.

I had gone to the city before to further my education and study accounting. But I didn't like city life; I never envisioned myself living there and dealing with the social and competitive life they live. I love to have my peace, and that's all that interests me.

"It's okay. Come, let us go outside and see the fireworks. It will be a new year soon," my mother said as she gently embraced me.

"Mom, I am not interested in seeing the fireworks. I am not happy about all this. How can you and Dad decide on my life like this?" I asked my mother, and she let out an exasperated sigh as my father left us in his home office.

"I can understand your feelings, Amara, but you should know that your father wants the best for you," my mother told me.

"Want the best for me by forcing me to marry his best friend's son? I cannot go to the city tomorrow, Mom. You should help me speak to Dad again, to cancel all this and allow me to stay here," I protested, and my mom sighed again.

"It's okay. Stop crying. Come, let us go outside," my mother urged me, gently pulling me to walk with her outside.

My mom and I were of similar height. We were tall, but not as tall as my father. We have blue eyes and long blonde hair.

I sighed and followed my mother outside to see the fireworks. My mind ran through numerous thoughts, wondering what my new husband would look like.

I cannot believe I am a married woman now. But this is not the marriage that I dreamed of.

I had hoped to walk down the aisle in a long white wedding dress, with a veil covering my head, and walk up with my parents to get married and meet my husband officially.

How can I just be told one night that the following day, I am going to a man's house to become his wife? A man I've never seen before in my life, who grew up in the city.

Where is that done?

I swallowed all my nervousness and dried my face. I saw my aunt and the rest of our family outside our home. They all looked joyful, except for me, no matter how much I used the white handkerchief my mother lent me to wipe my face. My face still looked red and swollen from sobbing too much.

While others were joyful, I was in turmoil and unhappy about my parents' decision. I had no option but to follow the path they wanted me to follow. They were my guardians, after all, and if I did not obey them, I might face many challenges in life. But I wasn't brave enough to disobey them, either.

I sighed and witnessed the fireworks. I tried to cheer up and encouraged myself that I was only getting married, and it wasn't the end of the world.

After midnight, it became a brand new day: a new year, a new beginning, and also me as a new married woman.

We went back into my father's house, my parents and I, while my aunts and uncles left for their nearby house after wishing us a happy new year.

My mother's younger sister, Juliet, walked up to me. She was over 40 years old, the only sister my mother had. She looks like my mother, with the same face, sharp nose, and blue, sparkling eyes that glimmer and shine hopefully.

Her name is Mrs. Juliet Donalds; she has two daughters younger than me.

"Amara, what's wrong? I noticed that you weren't looking so cheerful," she asked me just as I walked into the living room to go upstairs to my bedroom.

"I am fine, Aunt; I just feel so overwhelmed by New Year's Day," I lied. I couldn't tell her that I was married. Who would believe me? They didn't witness me getting married, and I think my mother hadn't informed her yet, even though they discussed together most of the time.

"Are you sure that you're fine?" my aunt asked me again, and I nodded and responded, "Yes, Aunt. I am good. I have to go upstairs now," I said, wanting to walk away from her.

She sighed and told me, "Whatever it is that's troubling you, you should put it into prayer and not allow it to weigh you down, okay?"

"Okay, Aunt," I nodded just as I saw my mother step out of the kitchen, and she smiled at us and told her sister, "She will be fine. Anara's going to the city tomorrow to her husband's house."

"What??" My aunt, Mrs. Juliet, looked stunned. She swiftly turned to look at my mom, who looked so beautiful even though it was nighttime. My mom was still glowing brightly like the sun.

"You don't mean it, Julianne. You mean your daughter is married, and we don't know about it? When? How?" my aunt questioned, but my mom sighed and gave the cup of water she was holding back to Agnes to return it to the kitchen.

"It's a long story, Juliet. But it is for Amara's good. Don't worry, she's our daughter, and she'll be fine," my mother assured my aunt, who was her only younger sister. Then she walked up to me.

"Come, Amara, let us go to your room and pack some of your things. It will soon be morning, and the driver will be on time to take you to your husband's house. Good night, sister," my mother told her sister as she walked up to meet me.

I felt like crying and protesting again, but I knew I was an obedient girl, so I allowed my mother to wrap her arm around my shoulder while she escorted me back to my room upstairs.