Chapter 3

• AMARA:
• When my mother and I entered my pink bedroom, she accompanied me to pack some of my things.
• Mom didn't want me to carry all my belongings, reminding me that the Briggs family was wealthy, and I didn't have to stress about packing everything I owned.
• We finished packing my two boxes around 1 a.m., and my mother was exhausted. She yawned, stretched, and told me, "I have to go back now to my room to meet your father. Good night, my daughter."
• "Okay, Mom, but I'm still not happy about this marriage. Can't you speak to my father again about this?" I asked my mother, looking at her face with my shining blue eyes that glimmer with hope.
• "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 frequently to know how you're doing," my mother replied, and hot tears freely streamed down from my eyes.
• I don't know why I wasn't happy about getting married and going to the city. It has always been my dream to marry a good man, but I was scared, and anxiety ran through my veins.
• I asked my mother, "Mom, what if Darlington doesn't like me? I don't know him, and I haven't seen him before. If he truly wants me, he should have been here since I was already married to him and before I became aware of it."
• "Hmm, Darlington will love you once he sets his eyes on you. I don't know if his father had told him, but this was an agreement between your father and his father. It would be best if you were a good wife to him and not discard your home training. I know the first year of marriage isn't easy, with you adjusting to your new home and your husband's way of life. As you know, he grew up in the city and is not here with us. But I am certain that he will love you very much. So don't be negative and always have a positive mindset," my mother said, but I stubbornly disagreed.
• I asked her, "Mom, what if Darlington already has a woman in his life? I know those city men are like nymphs because I was there, and the way they gawked at me was as if they wanted to eat me raw. I wouldn't say I like the idea of going to the city. I want a man from here," I protested again.
• "This is unlike you, my daughter. Don't worry, I doubt Darlington would be in any relationship that he'd desire, as his father would have told him about you. He's your husband, and you shouldn't worry much. Now come and go to bed and get a good sleep. You have a long way to travel tomorrow," my mother said, as she approached me and escorted me to the bed in my room.
• I went to relieve myself in my bathroom. I stepped into my bedroom and thought my mother had returned to her room, but she was still there, standing and waiting for me to lie on the bed like I was her baby.
• My mother carefully used the bedcover to cover me up while I slowly drifted to sleep, knowing I would miss the warm comfort of my parents' home the following day. I would be going to a man's house whom I haven't met before. I know nothing about him. I wondered if he would accept me or throw me outside and remind me that he never came to my father's house to marry me.
• These thoughts linger in my mind. However, I had a dream, and in my dream, I saw a tall man. I couldn't see his face, but he was tall and masculine, and he stared at me with curiosity. He looked familiar to me, like I had seen him before.
• He approached me and pulled me into an embrace, and as I tried to look at his face, I couldn't see it and know if he was my husband, the new man I was going to live with. I woke up and saw my mother in my room.
• "Amara, are you still in bed? Get up; it's almost 6 a.m." My mother walked up to pull my room curtains open, and I yawned and stretched as I sat up carefully on the bed.
• I got out of bed and greeted her. "Good morning, Mom."
• "Morning, my daughter, go and take your bath quickly. The driver will soon be here; let me go and prepare your breakfast," my mother said, as she quickly exited my bedroom. She was not giving me a chance to protest.
• I sighed and went into my bathroom to have a quick, refreshing bath. I got out of the bathroom and stepped into my room, only to find that my two big boxes of clothes were already out, and I saw a yellow dress on the bed that my mother had chosen for me to wear.
• I was not good with fashion, and my mother prioritized choosing a yellow dress and black shoes. She was so good at fashion and had heads turning to stare at her a second time. I think that was what my mother had used to win my father's heart, with her high fashion style and formidable looks. But me... I was too local to be considered fashionable.
• I am cute anyway, so why must I dress up to entice a man? I prefer wearing loose dresses to hide my shapes. In short, when I go to the market to select a dress, I will buy one that is only my height but too baggy to hide my curves and big boobs.
• I don't find pleasure in looking cute. I could remember one of my roomies then telling me that if I wore a seductive dress, I would get the president's son to fall in love with me, and I could be a perfect seductress.
• But no, I want to look decent and not too flashy. I don't particularly appreciate drawing attention, and it makes me feel vulnerable, like I would be kidnapped soon by those predatory men whose eyes were monitoring my every move.
• I sighed, drying up my wet body. I rubbed my orange cream, and after that, I picked up the yellow dress and wore it, and my mother was back in my bedroom again.