The Virgin Wife

The hospital smelled like bleach and desperation. Amara stood at the nurse's desk, clutching her grandfather's medical bill in shaking hands. 2 million naira. Due in 7 days. "Miss, if payment isn't made, we will discharge him," the nurse said coldly. Amara's chest tightened. Baba was all she had. After mama died, after her parents abandoned them, Baba raised her. He sold fish with her every morning at 4am in Mile 3 market. "Please," Amara whispered. "Just 7 more days. I'll get it." She walked out of the hospital with tears burning her eyes. The sun in Port Harcourt was too hot. The world was too cruel. Her phone buzzed. Unknown number. "Miss Amara? This is Chief Daniel's assistant. The Chief would like to see you regarding your grandfather's debt." Amara froze. Chief Daniel. The richest man in the city. The man who owned half of Port Harcourt and had no heart. An hour later, she was sitting in a glass mansion that looked like a palace. Crystal chandeliers. Marble floors. And sitting across from her was his son. Emeka Daniel. Tall. Cold eyes. 500 million wristwatch. He didn't even look at her. He was texting. "So," Chief Daniel said, sliding a contract across the table. "You need 2 million. I need my son married." Amara laughed. It came out bitter. "Excuse me?" "Marry Emeka," the Chief continued. "One year. Public wife. Private strangers. After 12 months, divorce. I clear your grandfather's debt today." Emeka finally looked up. His eyes scanned her from head to toe - her cheap dress, her tired eyes, her market hands. He smirked. "No." Amara stood up so fast her chair screeched. "And I said no too! I'd rather sell fish for the rest of my life than be someone's payment!" She turned to leave. "Your grandfather dies in 7 days," Chief Daniel said quietly behind her. Amara stopped. Her hands shook. 7 days. 2 million. 1 contract. She turned back slowly. "Fine," she said, voice breaking. "But I have conditions." Emeka raised an eyebrow. "You?" "Yes, me. No touching. No pretending we like each other. And the moment 1 year is over, we're done." Emeka leaned back, studying her like she was an insect. "Deal," he said. "Sign it." Amara picked up the pen. Her hand hovered over the paper. This was it. Sell her freedom to save Baba. She signed. Amara Okafor. The Virgin Wife. And just like that, her life was no longer hers.