Chapter 3
1385 Words
Chapter Three
The Wedding
Amara woke up on Monday morning to three missed calls.
All from her mother.
She immediately called back.
“Good morning, Mum.”
“Good morning, my baby.”
Amara smiled.
“Why did you call so early?”
“I wanted to hear your voice.”
Something about the way her mother said it made Amara pause.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
Amara looked at the clock.
8:14 a.m.
She had a lecture at nine.
“I'll come see you after class.”
“Don't worry about me. Go to school.”
“Mum—”
“You have exams coming.”
“I know.”
“And don't forget what you've always wanted.”
Amara smiled.
“To graduate with first class?”
“Yes.”
Her mother laughed softly.
“Exactly.”
Amara's smile faded.
She hadn't told her mother that she was getting married.
Not yet.
She couldn't bring herself to say it.
How could she explain that her daughter, who had spent years dreaming about graduation, had suddenly agreed to become someone's wife?
Her mother would ask questions.
And Amara wasn't ready to answer them.
“I'll see you later,” she said.
“Okay, my love.”
The call ended.
Amara stared at the phone.
Then she looked at the ring sitting on her bedside table.
It was simple.
Elegant.
Expensive.
A reminder that her life had changed without her mother even knowing.
---
The wedding was scheduled for Saturday.
Saturday.
That was all the time Amara had to prepare.
She stood in front of her mirror on Friday evening, staring at herself.
“I'm actually doing this.”
She couldn't believe it.
A knock sounded on her door.
Nia walked in.
“You've been staring at yourself for ten minutes.”
Amara turned.
“Nia…”
Her best friend immediately noticed something was wrong.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“That thing where you say nothing when something is obviously wrong.”
Amara sat on the bed.
Nia followed.
“Tell me.”
Amara looked at her.
There were only two people in the world she trusted completely.
Her mother.
And Nia.
But she couldn't tell Nia.
The contract required confidentiality.
“I have a family problem.”
Nia frowned.
“Your mum?”
“She'll be okay.”
“Then what?”
Amara hesitated.
“I'm getting married.”
Nia stared at her.
“What?”
Amara looked down.
“I'm getting married tomorrow.”
Silence.
Then—
“AMARA!”
“Keep your voice down!”
“You're getting married TOMORROW?”
“Yes.”
“To who?”
“His name is Daniel.”
“Daniel WHO?”
“Williams.”
Nia's mouth fell open.
“Wait.”
She grabbed her phone.
“Daniel Williams?”
“I don't know.”
“Girl, that family is rich!”
Amara sighed.
“I know.”
“How did you meet him?”
“It's complicated.”
Nia studied her face.
“Are you in love with him?”
“No.”
“Does he love you?”
“No.”
“Then why are you marrying him?”
Amara looked away.
“I can't tell you.”
Nia's expression changed.
She could tell there was more.
“Amara…”
“I promise I'll explain someday.”
Nia was silent for a moment.
Then she hugged her.
“Whatever you're doing, just be careful.”
Amara closed her eyes.
“I will.”
---
Saturday arrived too quickly.
The ceremony was small.
Elegant.
Almost painfully perfect.
Amara stood in front of the mirror while a makeup artist finished her look.
She barely recognized herself.
Her hair was styled beautifully.
Her dress was simple but elegant.
Her hands trembled.
The door opened.
Mrs. Williams walked in.
She looked at Amara through the mirror.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
Mrs. Williams stood behind her.
“You still have time to change your mind.”
Amara looked at her.
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
Amara gave a small laugh.
“No, I don't.”
Mrs. Williams' expression softened.
“I hope you know what you're doing.”
“I don't.”
That answer surprised them both.
Amara looked down at her hands.
“But I know why I'm doing it.”
Her mother.
That was enough.
---
Daniel was waiting at the front.
He looked different.
Less cold.
More serious.
When Amara walked toward him, his eyes followed her.
For a second, he seemed genuinely surprised.
“You look…”
He stopped.
Amara raised an eyebrow.
“I look what?”
“Nice.”
She almost laughed.
“Nice?”
“Beautiful.”
The word came out quietly.
Amara's smile disappeared.
“Thank you.”
They turned toward the officiant.
The ceremony began.
Amara heard every word.
But none of them seemed real.
Until the officiant asked Daniel:
“Do you take Amara Adeyemi to be your wife?”
Daniel looked at her.
There was something unreadable in his eyes.
“I do.”
Then it was her turn.
Amara looked at him.
She remembered the hospital.
Her mother's face.
The contract.
The money.
Everything that had brought her here.
“I do.”
The rings were exchanged.
The papers were signed.
And just like that—
Amara was married.
---
After the ceremony, guests gathered around them.
Photographs.
Congratulations.
Smiles.
People telling them how beautiful they looked together.
Amara smiled until her cheeks hurt.
Daniel placed a hand lightly at her back.
“Smile.”
“I am smiling.”
“You look terrified.”
“I am terrified.”
He almost smiled.
“Try not to show it.”
She whispered,
“I'll try.”
A photographer raised his camera.
“Closer, please!”
Amara froze.
Daniel looked at her.
Then, without warning, he moved slightly closer.
Their shoulders touched.
The camera flashed.
For a second, Amara forgot about the contract.
Forgot about the hospital.
Forgot that this was supposed to be temporary.
She simply looked at him.
And Daniel looked back.
Neither spoke.
“Perfect!” the photographer called.
The moment ended.
---
That evening, Amara stood outside her mother's hospital room.
Her mother was smiling.
“You look beautiful.”
Amara's eyes filled with tears.
“Thank you.”
Her mother looked at the ring.
“So this is him?”
Amara nodded.
“Daniel.”
Her mother smiled.
“Does he treat you well?”
Amara looked through the glass at the hospital room.
“He does.”
It wasn't exactly a lie.
Not yet.
Her mother reached for her hand.
“I just want you to be happy.”
Amara squeezed her fingers.
“I am.”
But as she said the words, something inside her whispered:
You don't even know what happiness looks like anymore.
---
Later that night, Amara entered Daniel's house.
Her house now.
She still wasn't used to that thought.
Daniel stood near the staircase.
“You can take the room upstairs.”
“Your room?”
“Yes.”
“And you?”
“Guest room.”
Amara frowned.
“You're giving me your room?”
“It's bigger.”
She nodded.
“Thank you.”
Daniel started walking away.
“Daniel?”
He stopped.
“What?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Being nice.”
He looked at her.
“I'm not being nice.”
“Then what are you doing?”
He thought for a moment.
“Making sure you don't regret agreeing to this.”
Amara stared at him.
Then he walked away.
She looked around the enormous house.
She was officially married.
Her mother's treatment had begun.
Her university life was waiting for her.
And somewhere in this huge house was the man she had agreed to spend the next year with.
A man she barely knew.
A man who had already warned her not to fall in love.
Amara touched her wedding ring.
“Don't worry,” she whispered.
“I won't.”
But neither she nor Daniel knew how difficult that promise would become.
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