FORCED TO MARRY MY TWIN SISTER'S FIANCÉ

The church organ is playing. My twin sister is supposed to be walking down the aisle to marry a billionaire. Instead, she is hiding in the toilet, stuffing her wedding dress into a Ghana-Must-Go bag. "Bimpe! What are you doing?" I whisper, my heart beating like a drum. Bimpe Johnson — my identical twin — looks at me with red eyes. Her long Brazilian hair is already tangled. "Amara, I cannot marry that man. Xavier Cole is cold. He does not love me. He will kill me in that Banana Island mansion." "But Mama paid for everything! The whole Yaba is outside!" "I have Tunde now. He loves me. Take my place. Please." I freeze. My name is Amara Johnson. I am 24 years old. I sell pure water in Tejuosho Market, Yaba. I have never worn makeup. I have never kissed a man. And now my sister wants me to marry a man I have never met? Before I can answer, the church door bangs open. "Where is the bride? The groom is waiting!" Mama shouts, her wrapper flying. Bimpe pushes her green puff-hand dress into my hands. It smells like her expensive perfume. "Wear it. You look like me. Nobody will know. Just say 'I do' and come home. Mama will forgive us later." "Bimpe, no—" But she is already running. Barefoot. Through the back window of St. Patrick Catholic Church. Leaving me alone with a wedding dress that costs more than our one-room face-me-I-face-you house. The organ stops. The priest calls, "Bimpe Johnson, are you ready?" All eyes turn to the toilet door. My hands shake. I look at myself in the mirror. Dark skin, low cut hair, fake gold bangle on my wrist. I am not Bimpe. I am Amara, the Yaba girl who eats garri with groundnut every night. But if I don't go out, Mama will be disgraced. The whole Yaba will laugh at us. I inhale. I wear the green dress. It is too big for me. I wear her high heels. I almost fall. Then I open the door. Everybody gasps. "Fine girl! Bride fine!" I walk down the aisle. My legs are shaking. And at the end of the aisle, he stands. Xavier Cole. 32 years old. Tall. Dark. Light skin. Clean beard. Black suit. Gold Rolex that shines even from far. He smells like money I have never smelled before. He has never been to Yaba. He has never entered a Danfo. He has never eaten garri. And he is looking at me like I am a transaction. When I reach him, he whispers coldly, "You are late. And you changed your earrings. I don't like late women." I want to cry. He thinks I am Bimpe. He takes my hand. His hand is warm. Mine is sweating. The priest says, "Xavier Cole, do you take Bimpe Johnson to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Xavier says without blinking, "I do." Then the priest turns to me. "Bimpe Johnson, do you take Xavier Cole to be your lawfully wedded husband?" My mouth is dry. Mama is crying in the front row, smiling. She does not know Bimpe has run away. I look at Xavier. Cold. Handsome. A billionaire. And I, a Yaba girl who sleeps on the floor, say the biggest lie of my life. "I... I do." The church claps. Xavier leans close to my ear and says the words that will change my life forever. "You will regret being late, Bimpe. Tonight, we will talk about the contract." Contract? What contract?