Mr Darlington Ex Wife

Amara:

On the 31st of December.

It was a peaceful Friday night when I sat on my bed in my room on the top floor of a white duplex, preparing to sleep, when I heard a knock on the door.

I got out of bed and walked up to the door to see who it was. As I pulled it open, I saw Agnes, my mother's maid, standing there and smiling at me.

Agnes wore a long blue gown; she was light-skinned, tall, and a young lady about my height. I am 24 years old. I was wearing a long blue nightgown, too, as it was already nighttime at around 11:30 p.m.

We were waiting for the crossover celebration to begin, and I had pulled my hair into a bun shortly after drying it following my bath in the bathroom.

“What do you want, Agnes?” I asked, looking at her face, and she smiled back at me.

“Good evening, Amara. If you have a moment, your father sent for you downstairs,” Agnes informed me. I sighed and replied, “But we just finished having our dinner now in the dining room. What does my father want to say to me again? I am not interested in the New Year celebration.”

Agnes smiled faintly at me and replied, “I don't know, but he's downstairs with your mom, and the guests have all gone outside, preparing for the fireworks.”

“Hmm, okay. Tell my father I will be downstairs soon. Let me go and ease myself; I'm coming,” I told Agnes, and she turned and left my corridor.

I sighed and went back into my restroom to relieve myself. I got out and went downstairs to the living room of my father's enormous white mansion. We lived in the countryside. It could also be referred to as a village or sparsely populated area, as my father was a chief there and dealt in agricultural farm produce.

I was more like a princess at home. My mother was the center of admiration, and my people loved me, as my parents had taught me to be kind and helpful to those around us. We were preparing for the crossover night to a brand-new year, and I didn't know how to feel about it.

I was the only child of my parents. I was still single, and my parents weren't pressing for me to get married. My father was an understanding man, but after a few bachelors had come to ask for my hand in marriage—even my crush, Charles Wilfred—my father had refused.

His reason, I didn't know, but my mother had assured me that my father wanted the best for me, and he couldn't just give me away to any male suitor who would probably treat me poorly in the future. I understood and sighed, going downstairs to the living room.

We lived in a standard duplex house surrounded by many trees and gardens.

My father's mansion was fenced, and now that the celebration was ongoing, we had many visitors, and the guest rooms were packed with my cousins and aunts around.

I finally walked into the living room, and Agnes stepped out of the kitchen and told me, “Your dad requested that you meet him in his home office.”

“Okay,” I said, then went to my father's home office to see him. I suspected what he had to tell me was private so that none of our relatives would eavesdrop on our conversation.

I finally arrived at the front of my father's home office. I knocked gently and heard my father's response in a calm voice, “Come inside.”

I quietly pushed the office door open and walked into the enormous office, which had two guest seats and a set of four blue couches.

There, my parents sat on a blue couch, and my father smiled at me and said, “Come, Amara, come and have a seat before the fireworks start. Your mother and I have something important to say to you.”

“Okay, Dad,” I said, walking into the office, and shortly after, I was seated on another blue couch across from my parents. My mother was clad in a red nightdress, and my dad wore a white garment and black trousers.

My dad smiled at me and said, “Amara, it has come to the point that your mother and I need to inform you about our arrangement. We have been keeping it from you, but now is the time to inform you about our decision. Well, I am sure you're familiar with my friend, Mr. Joshua Briggs."

I smiled and replied, “Yes, Dad. I know Mr. Briggs, who lives in the city and visits here sometimes.”

“Good. You are married to his only son, Darlington Briggs, and you will be going to the city tomorrow to live with him,” my father informed me.

"What?" I gasped. "Dad, I don't understand. How can I be married to your friend's son? When? I cannot remember getting married to any man, or did I have a memory loss?”

I stared at my parents in shock. Like, how did I get married without remembering it, and when I also wished to settle down and have my own home? My father sighed, and my mother smiled understandingly.

“It was an arrangement I had with Mr. Joshua Briggs a long time ago. You are not officially married to Darlington Briggs, but you will have to live with him to see if you both can be compatible and become a true couple,” my father explained.

“Dad, I do not understand what you are saying. You mean, I will visit them, or I am already married to the man you're saying is your best friend's son? And doing what married couples do with him?” I asked my father, wanting to understand him better.

“Amara, like I said, you are married to Darlington Briggs, and you should be a good lady to him when you get to their house. You don't have to worry about anything; Mr. Joshua has paid all the necessities for your hand in marriage to his son. So Darlington Briggs is your husband, and you're his wife now. The only difference is that Darlington didn't come down here to marry you officially, neither did you wear a white wedding dress to walk down the aisle with him. But you are his wife by our traditional custom,” my father emphasized.

“Hmm, Dad, I cannot marry a man that I don't know. I can't go to the city to be with him. Mom?” I looked at my mother's face, wanting to hear her response about all these arrangements.

Mom sighed and said, “Amara, calm down. It is for your good.”

“How, Mom? I cannot go to the city to live with a man I'm not familiar with, Dad. I do not like the bustling lives of city people. I want to remain here, where there's no noise and wild lifestyle,” I protested and wanted my father to change his mind about these sudden arrangements.

My father sighed, shook his head and replied, “I can understand your complaint, my daughter, but I trust Mr. Joshua's son to take care of you, so you're going to the city tomorrow."