Mr Darlington Ex Wife

Amara Nicolas:

On the evening of December 31st, I stood in my room drying my hair when a knock came at the door.

I crossed the room, pulled the door open, and found Agnes, my mother’s maid, beaming at me.

Agnes wore a long blue gown. She was light-skinned, young, and about my height—I am twenty-four. I, too, was clad in a long blue nightgown, as it was nearly 11 p.m. and already dark outside.

We were all awaiting the crossover celebration to begin. I had twisted my hair into a bun shortly after stepping out of the bathroom from my bath.

“What do you want, Agnes?” I asked, meeting her gaze. She smiled back at me.

“Amara, if you have a moment, your father has sent for you downstairs,” Agnes informed me.

I sighed. “But we just finished dinner in the dining room. What does my father want to say to me now? I’m not in the mood for the New Year celebration.”

Agnes offered a faint smile. “I don’t know, ma’am, but he’s downstairs with your mother. The guests have all gone outside to prepare for the fireworks.”

“Hmm, alright. Tell my father I’ll be down soon. Let me just use the restroom first; I’m coming,” I told her. Agnes turned and walked away down the corridor.

I sighed, went back into my bathroom to relieve myself, then headed downstairs to the living room of my father’s sprawling white mansion.

We live on the city’s outskirts, deep in the countryside. My father serves as a chief here and deals in agricultural produce.

At home, I am somewhat of a princess. My mother is the center of admiration, and the people love me because she taught me to be kind and helpful to those around us. We were preparing for crossover night into the new year, though I wasn't sure how I felt about it.

I am my parents’ only child, still single, and they haven’t pressured me to marry. My father is an understanding man, but when a few bachelors came to ask for my hand—including my crush, Charles Wilfred—my father refused them all.

His reasons remain unknown to me, but my mother assured me that he wants the best for me and won’t simply give me away to a suitor who might mistreat me later. I understood, sighed, and continued downstairs to the living room.

Our home is a spacious duplex surrounded by trees and gardens. The mansion is fenced, and with the celebration in full swing, we had many visitors; the guest rooms were packed with my cousins and aunts.

I finally walked into the living room, and Agnes stepped out of the kitchen. “Your dad requests that you meet him in his office,” she said.

“Okay,” I replied, then made my way to my father’s home office. I suspected whatever he had to say was private, so none of our relatives could eavesdrop.

I arrived at the office door, knocked gently, and heard my father’s calm voice: “Come in.”

I pushed the door open quietly and stepped into the large office, which held two guest chairs and a set of four blue couches.

My parents sat together on one of the blue couches. My father smiled at me and said, “Come, Amara, have a seat before the fireworks start. Your mother and I have something important to tell you.”

“Okay, Dad.” I walked in and soon settled onto another blue couch across from them. My mother wore a red nightdress, while my father was dressed in a white top and black trousers—the latter visible since he was seated.

My father smiled and said, “Amara, the time has come for your mother and me to share an arrangement we’ve kept from you. I’m sure you know my friend, Mr. Joshua Briggs.”

I smiled back. “Yes, Dad. I know Mr. Briggs—he 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 don’t recall getting married to anyone—did I lose my memory?”

I stared at my parents in shock. How could I be married without remembering it, especially when I hadn't even wished to settle down yet? My father sighed, and my mother gave me an understanding smile.

“It was an arrangement I made with Mr. Joshua Briggs long ago,” my father explained. “You aren’t fully married to Darlington Briggs in the formal sense, but you will live with him to see if you both are compatible enough to become a true couple.”

“Dad, I don’t follow. Do you mean I’m just visiting them, or I am already married to your best friend’s son—expected to do what married couples do?” I asked, trying to understand.

“Amara, as I said, you are married to Darlington Briggs. Be a good wife to him when you arrive at their house. You needn’t worry about anything—Joshua has already paid all the necessary bride price for his son. So Darlington is your husband, and you are his wife now. The only difference is that he didn’t come here to marry you officially, nor did you walk down the aisle in a wedding dress. But by our traditional custom, you are his wife,” my father emphasized.

“Dad, I can’t marry a man I don’t know. I can’t go to the city to live with him. Mom?” I turned to my mother, hoping for a different response.

She sighed and said, “Amara, calm down. This is for your own good.”

“How, Mom? I can’t go to the city to live with a stranger, Dad. I don’t like the hustle and bustle of city life. I want to stay here, where there’s no noise and no wild lifestyle,” I protested, hoping to change my father’s mind.

“I understand your concerns, my daughter,” my father said gently, “but I trust Joshua’s son to take care of you. Tomorrow, you are going to the city.”