Mr. Darlington's Ex Wife

Chapter 2

Amara.

“Dad, I do not want to go to the city. I do not want to marry a city man,” I protested. Tears were gathering in my eyes.

My father stood up from the blue couch. He was a tall, dark-skinned man, unlike my mother and me, who were 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 either, but we cannot trust all these people here to look after you. Therefore, your mother and I decided on this: for you to 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 taps, and my mother stood up and walked over to me.

“You do not 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 let me know. I was left speechless.

I had gone to the city before to further my education and study accounting. But I did not like city life. I did not envision myself living there amid the social and competitive life they led. I loved to have my peace, and that was all that interested me.

“It is 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 my father decide on my life like this?” I asked my mother. 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 replied.

“Dad, 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 my father again to cancel all this and allow me to stay here,” I protested. My mother sighed again.

“It is okay. Stop crying. Come, let us go outside,” my mother urged me. She gently pulled me to walk with her outside.

My mother and I were of similar heights. We were tall, but not as tall as my father. We had blue eyes and long blonde hair.

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

I could not believe I was a married woman now. But this was not the marriage that I had dreamed of.

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

How could I just be told one night that the following day I was going to a man’s house to become his wife? He was a man whom I had not seen before in all my life and who had grown up in the city.

Where was 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 I used the white handkerchief my mother had lent me to wipe my face. I was sure 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. If I did not obey them, I might face many challenges in life. But I was not brave enough to disobey them either.

I sighed and witnessed the fireworks. I cheered up and encouraged myself that I was only married and that it was not like the end of my life.

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

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

My mother’s younger sister, Juliet Donalds, walked over to meet me. She was over forty years old and the only sister my mother had. She looked like my mother, with the same face, pointed nose, and sparkling blue eyes that glimmered hopefully. She had two daughters younger than me.

“Amara, what is wrong? I noticed that you were not looking so cheerful,” she asked me just as I walked into the living room to go upstairs to my bedroom.

“I am fine, ma. I just feel so overwhelmed by the New Year’s Day,” I lied. I could not tell her that I was married. Who would believe me? They had not witnessed me getting married, and I thought my mother had not informed her yet, even though they discussed it together most of the time.

“Are you sure that you are fine?” my aunt asked me again. I nodded and responded, “Yes, Aunt. I am good. I have to go upstairs now.” I wanted to walk away from her.

She sighed and told me, “Whatever it is that is 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.

Mom smiled at us and told her sister, “Amara will be fine. She is going to the city tomorrow to her husband’s house.”

“What?” My aunt looked stunned. She swiftly turned to look at her sister, who looked so beautiful even though it was nighttime. My mother was still glowing brightly like the sun.

“You do not mean it, Julianne. You mean your daughter is married, and we do not know about it? When? How?” my aunt questioned. But my mother sighed and gave the cup of water she was holding back to Agnes to return to the kitchen.

“It is all a long story, Juliet. But it is for Amara’s good. Do not worry; she is our daughter, and she will be fine,” my mother assured her only younger sister. Then she walked over to meet me.

“Come, Amara. Let us go to your room and pack some of your things. It will soon be morning, and the car driver will be on time to take you to your husband’s house. Good night, sister,” my mother told her younger sister as she walked over to meet me.

I felt like crying and protesting, 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.