Chapter 3
1127 Words
Amara Nicholas;
My mother and I got into my bedroom, which was very large, and she accompanied me to pack some of my things. She didn't want me to carry all my loads, reminding me that the Briggs family was wealthy and I didn't have to stress about arranging everything that I owned.
We finished packing my boxes around 1 a.m., and my mother was exhausted. She stretched, yawned and said, "I have to go back now to my room to meet your father. Good night, my princess."
"Okay, Mom, but I am not still happy about this marriage. Can't you speak to my father again about this?" I asked my mother. I was looking at her face with my blue eyes that glimmered 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 from time to time to know how you are faring," my mother said, and hot tears freely streamed down from my eyes.
I didn't know why I wasn't happy about getting married and going to the city. It had always been my dream to marry a handsome man, a good man, but I was scared, and anxiety ran through my veins.
I asked my mother, "Mom, what if the man does not 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 married to him and before I became aware of it."
"Hmm, he 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 that 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 about anything 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 that some of those city men are nymphs, as in, 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 said.
"This is unlike you, my daughter. Don't worry, I doubt he 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 restroom. I stepped out of my bedroom and thought my mother had returned to her room, but she was still, standing there 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 hadn't met before. I knew nothing about him. I wondered if he would accept me or send me away and remind me that he didn't come to my family's house to marry me.
All these thoughts lingered 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 attractive, and he stared at me with curiosity. He looked familiar, like I had seen him before.
He approached me and pulled me into an embrace. As I tried to look at his face, I couldn't see his face properly and know if he was my husband, the new man I was going to live with. However, I awoke and saw my mother in my room.
"Amara, are you still in bed? Get up quickly; it's almost 6 a.m." My mother said, as she 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 sweet pie, go and take your bath quickly. The car 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 again.
I sighed and went into my bathroom to have a quick, refreshing bath.
I got out of the bathroom, only to find that my two big boxes of clothes were already out of my room, 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. She was so good at fashion and had heads turning to stare at her for 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, so why should I dress hot to entice a man? I prefer wearing baggy dresses to hide my boobs and hips.
After schooling in the city, I disliked for any man to gawk at me, so I made it a priority to buy loose-fitting dresses that were only my height but too baggy and would hide my shape.
I don't find pleasure in looking cute. I could remember one of my roommates 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 one of 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.
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