Chapter 3

••AMARA••

My mother and I get into my bedroom, which is very large, and she accompanies me to pack some of my things. She does not want me to carry all my loads, reminding me that the Briggs family is wealthy and I do not have to stress about packing everything that I own.

We finish packing the two boxes around 1 a.m., and my mother is exhausted. She stretches and yawns and tells me, "I have to go back now to my room to meet your father. Good night, my princess."

"Okay, Mom, but I am still not happy about this marriage. Can't you speak to my father again about this?" I ask my mother. I look at her face with my blue eyes that glimmer with hope at hearing her agree.

"No, Amara. I want you to marry and give me a grandchild. I cannot speak to your father about this again. Don't worry, when you get there to the city, I will be calling you often to know how you are faring," my mother tells me, and hot tears stream down my cheeks.

I do not know why I am not happy about getting married and going to the city. It has always been my dream to marry a handsome man, a good man, but I am scared, and anxiety runs through my veins.

I ask my mother, "Mom, what if the man does not like me? I do not know him, and I have not seen him before. If he truly wants me, he should have been here since I am already married to him and before I become aware of it."

"Hmm, he will love you once he sets his eyes on you. I do not know if his father has told him, but this is an agreement between your father and his father. It would be best if you are a good wife to him and do not discard your home training. I know that the first year of marriage is not easy, with you adjusting to your new home and your husband's way of life. As you know, he grows up in the city and is not here with us. But I am certain that he will love you very much. So do not be negative about anything and always have a positive mindset," my mother tells me, but I stubbornly disagree.

I ask her, "Mom, what if he already has a woman in his life? I know some of the city men are equivalent to nymphs, as in. I was there, and the way they gawked at me was as if they wanted to eat me raw. I do not like the idea of going to the city. I want a man from here," I protest again.

"This is unlike you, my daughter. Don't worry, I doubt Darlington is in any relationship that he desires, as his father would have told him about you. He is your husband, and you should not worry much. Now come and go to bed and get a good sleep. You have a long way to travel tomorrow," my mother tells me as she approaches me again and escorts me to the bed in my room.

I go to relieve myself in my washroom. I step out of my washroom and think my mother has returned to her room, but she is still there, standing beside my bed and waiting for me to lie on the bed like I am her baby.

My mother carefully uses the bedcover to cover me up while I slowly drift to sleep, knowing I will miss the warm comfort of my parents' home the following day. I will be going to a man's house who I have not met before. I know nothing about him. I wonder if he will accept me or throw me outside and remind me that he did not come to my father's house to marry me.

These thoughts linger in my mind. However, I have a dream, and in my dream, I see a tall man. I cannot see his face, but he is well-built and attractive, and he stares at me with curiosity. He looks familiar to me like I have seen him before.

He approaches me and pulls me into an embrace, and as I try to look at his face, I cannot see his face and know if he is my husband, the new man I am going to live with. I wake up and see my mother in my room.

"Amara, are you still in bed? Get up; it is almost 6 a.m." My mother walks up to pull my room curtains open, and I yawn and stretch as I sit up on the bed.

I get out of bed and greet her, "Good morning, Mom."

"Morning, my daughter, go and take your bath quickly. The car driver will soon be here; let me go and prepare your breakfast," my mother tells me as she quickly exits my bedroom. She does not give me a chance to protest again.

I sigh and go into my bathroom to have a quick bath. I get out of the bathroom, only to find that my two big boxes of clothes are already out of my room, and I see a yellow dress on the bed that my mother has chosen for me to wear.

I am not good with fashion, and my mother prioritizes choosing a yellow dress. She is so good at fashion and has heads turning at her to stare at her for a second time. I think that is what my mother has used to win my father's heart, with her high fashion style and formidable looks. But me... I am don't like fashionable wears.

I am cute anyway, so why must I dress hot to entice a man? I prefer wearing off-baggy dresses to hide my shapes. In short, when I go to the market to select a dress, I will buy something loose-fitting.

After schooling in the city, I disliked for any man to gawk at me, so I make it a priority to buy a loose-fitting dress that is only my height but too baggy and will hide all my humongous shape.

I do not find pleasure in looking cute. I can remember one of my roommates then telling me that if I wear a seductive dress, I will get the president's son in the private university to fall in love with me, and I can be a perfect seductress.

But no, I want to look decent and not too flashy. I do not particularly appreciate drawing attention, and it makes me feel vulnerable, like I will be kidnapped soon by one of those predatory men whose eyes monitor my every move.

I sigh, drying my wet body. I rub my orange cream, and after that, I pick up the yellow dress and wear it, and my mother is back in my bedroom again.