Mr. Darlington Ex Wife

~Amara's POV~

On a Friday night, I was in my room when I heard a knock on the door. I walked up to the door and pulled it open, and then I saw my mother's maid, Agnes, smiling at me.

Agnes was dressed in a long blue gown; she was light-skinned and a young lady like my height. I am 24 years old. I was wearing a long blue nightgown, too, as it was nighttime at around 11:30 p.m. on the 31st of December.

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

"What do you want, Agnes?" I asked Agnes, 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 had 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 live on the outskirts of the city, precisely in the countryside. It could be referred to as a village or a sparsely populated area, as my father is a chief there and into agricultural farm produce.

I am more like a princess at home. My mother is the center of admiration, and my people love me, as my mother 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 don't know how to feel about it.

I am the only child of my parents. I am still single, and my parents aren't pressing for me to get married. My father is an understanding man, but after a few bachelors have come to ask for my hand in marriage. Even my crush, Charles Wilfred, my father refused.

His reason, I do not know, but my mother 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 less in the future. I understood and sighed, going downstairs to the living room.

We live 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 aunt around.

I finally walked into the living room, and Agnes stepped out again and told me, "Your dad requested that you meet him in his office."

"Okay," I said, then went to my father's home office to see him. I suspect 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. Likewise, 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 have your seat before the fireworks start. Your mother and I have something important to say to you."

"Okay, Dad," I walked 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, beneath which I could see the trousers because he was sitting on the same blue couch as my mother.

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 him, the man who lives in the city with his family and visits here sometimes."

"Good. Well, 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.

I gasped, "What? 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 also wishing to settle down and have my home? My father sighed, and my mother smiled understandably at me.

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

"Dad, I do not understand what you are saying. You mean, I will visit them, or am I 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 wife 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 for his son. So Darlington Briggs is your husband while 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 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.

She 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.

"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," my father finalized.

~Amara's POV~

"Dad, I don't want to go to the city. I don't want to marry a city man," I protest. Tears are gathering in my eyes.

My father stood up from the blue couch. He is a very tall man and dark-skinned in complexion, unlike me and my mother, who are both light-skinned.

My father sighed and said, "Amara, We are not disowning you from becoming 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 also do not want you to leave us, but we cannot trust all these people here to look after you. So your mother and I decided on these: for you to go to the city, and there, 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 up to meet me.

My father said, "You don't 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."

I was left speechless. I had gone to the city before to further my education and study accounting. But I didn't like city life; I didn't envision myself living there and the social and competitive life they lived. I love to have my peace, and that's all that interests me.

"It's 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, and 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 said.

"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 to speak to my father again, to cancel all these and allow me to stay here," I protested, and my mom sighed.

"It's okay. Stop crying. Come, let us go outside," my mother urges me, gently pulling me to walk with her outside.

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

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

I cannot believe I am a married woman now. But this is not the marriage that I dreamed of.

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

How can I just be told one night that the following day, I am going to a man's house to become his wife? A man who I haven't seen before all my life and who grew up in the city.

Where is that done?

I swallowed all my nervousness and dried my face. I saw my aunt and the rest of our families outside our home. They all looked joyful, well, except for me, no matter how I used the white handkerchief my mother lent me to wipe my face. I am sure my face still looks 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, and if I did not obey them, I might face many challenges in life. But I wasn't brave enough to disobey them, too.

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

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

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

My mother's younger sister, Juliet Donalds, walked up to meet me. She was over 40 years old, and the only sister my mother had. She looks like my mother, with the same face, sharp nose, and blue, sparkling eyes that glimmer hopefully. She had two younger daughters than me.

"Amara, what's wrong? I noticed that you weren't 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 couldn't tell her that I was married. Like, who would believe me? They didn't witness me getting married, and I think my mother hasn't informed her yet, even though they discussed it together most of the time.

"Are you sure that you're fine?" My aunt asked me again, and I nodded and responded, "Yes, Aunt. I am good. I have to go upstairs now," I said, wanting to walk away from her.

She sighed and told me, "Whatever it is that's 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, and she smiled at us and told her sister, "Amara will be fine. She's going to the city tomorrow to her husband's house."

"What??" My aunt looked stunned. She swiftly turned to look at my mom, who looked so beautiful even though it was nighttime. My mom was still glowing brightly like the sun.

"You don't mean it, Julianne. You mean your daughter is married, and we don't 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's all a long story, Juliet. But it is for Amara's good. Don't worry, she's our daughter, and she will be fine." My mother assured my aunt, who was her only younger sister. Then she walked up 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 waved to younger sister as she walked up to meet me.

I felt like crying and protesting again, 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.

[Amara Nicholas]

We got into my bedroom, which was very large, and my mother 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 all my things and packing everything that I owned.

We finished packing all the boxes around 1 a.m., and my mother was exhausted. She stretched and yawned and told me, "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 am looking at her face with my blue-shining eyes that glimmer 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. Not to worry, when you get there to the city, I will be calling you from time to time to know how you're faring," my mother told me, and hot tears freely streamed down from my eyes.

I don't know why I wasn't happy about getting married and going to the city. It has 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 already 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 told me, but I stubbornly disagreed.

I asked her, "Mom, What if he already has a woman in his life? I know most of these city men are equivalent to 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 protested again.

"This is unlike you, my princess. Not to 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 told me as she approached me again and escorted me to the bed in my room.

I went to relieve myself again in my restroom. I stepped out of my bedroom and thought my mother had returned to her room, but she was still there. 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 who I haven't met before. I know nothing about them. I wondered if he would accept or throw me outside and remind me that he never came to my family's house to marry me.

All these thoughts linger in my mind. However, I had a dream, and in my dream, I saw a man. 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 to me like I had seen him before.

He approached me and pulled me into an embrace, and as I tried to look at his face, I couldn't see his face and know if he was my husband. The new man I was going to live with, I woke up and saw my mother in my room.

"Amara, are you still in bed? Get up; it's almost 6 a.m." My mother 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 told me 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 and stepped out, 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 at her 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 anyway, so why must I dress hot to entice a man? I prefer wearing off-baggy dresses to hide all my curves and shapes. In short, when I go to the market to select a dress, I will buy.

After schooling