#Chapter 2

Amara's POV;

"I would rather not go to the city, Dad. I object, saying, 'I do not want to marry a city man." My eyes are welling up with tears.

My dad got up off the blue sofa. Unlike my mother and me, who have fair skin, he is a very tall man with a dark complexion.

With a sigh, my dad said, "Amara, We do not deny you the right to become our daughter. Although you have to start your own life and family in order to provide your mother and me with grandchildren, you will always be our daughter. We also do not want you to leave, but we can not trust anyone here to take care of you, so your mother and I came to the decision that you should move to the city, where you will be truly loved rather than by avaricious people who might be acting like you to win our favor."

"Daddy!" My mother walked over to meet me as I started crying uncontrollably and petted me, telling me it was alright.

"Crying is not necessary. I can guarantee you that the Briggs are a decent family, and I was friends with Mr. Joshua Briggs when I was younger. You will be treated very well when you get to their family's home." I was left speechless in shock when my father told me.

I had previously traveled to the city to study accounting and further my education. I could not see myself living in a city and experiencing the competitive and social lifestyle they led, so I did not enjoy city life. All that interests me is having peace of mind, which I love.

"That is alright. Come with me outside to watch the fireworks." With a gentle embrace, my mother said, "It will soon be a new year."

"Mum, I do not want to watch the fireworks. All of this is not making me happy. How could my father and you decide on this course for my life?" When I asked my mother, she sighed in frustration as my father walked out of his house office.

My mother informed me, "I know how you feel, Amara, but you should know that your father only wants the best for you."

"By making me wed his best friend's son, is he trying to make the best decision for me? I am not able to travel to the city tomorrow, mom." My mother sighed once more as I objected, saying, "You should help me talk to my father again, to cancel all of this and allow me to stay here."

"Do not worry." My mother pulls me gently outside and says, "Come, let us go outside." I stop crying.

I was about the same height as my mother. Compared to my father, we were not as tall. Our blonde hair is long, and we have blue eyes.

With a sigh, I went outside to watch the fireworks with my mother. I kept thinking about my future spouse, wondering what his appearance would be like.

I still can not believe I am a married woman. However, this is not the marriage of my dreams.

In order to formally meet my spouse and get married, I had imagined myself walking down the aisle in a long white wedding gown while wearing a veil over my head and approaching my parents.

How can it be that one evening I am told that I am going to a man's house the next day to marry him? A man who was raised in the city and who I had never seen before in my entire life.

Where is that carried out?

I wiped my face and forced myself to swallow my anxiety. I saw my aunt and our family outside of our house. All of them appeared happy, with the exception of me, regardless of how I wiped my face with the white handkerchief my mother had given me. My face is probably still red and swollen from crying too much.

While others were happy, my parents' choice had me in disarray and turmoil. I was forced to go in the direction they wanted me to go. After all, they were my guardians, and I might encounter many difficulties in life if I disobeyed them. I did not have the courage to defy them, though.

With a sigh, I watched the fireworks. I collected myself and told myself that marriage did not mean the end of my life.

It is a new day after midnight, a new year, a new beginning, and for me as a married woman.

After wishing us a happy new year, my aunts and uncles left for their nearby home, leaving my parents and me to return to my father's house.

Juliet, my mother's younger sister, came up to meet me. She was my mother's only sister, over forty years old. With the same face, pointed nose, and blue, sparkling eyes that hopefully glimmer and shine, she resembles my mother.

Mrs. Juliet Donalds was her name, and she had two younger daughters than myself.

"Amara, what is the issue? I saw that you were not wearing a happy expression." As soon as I entered the living room, she asked me to go upstairs to my bedroom and get some rest.

I told a lie, saying, "I am fine, ma; I just feel so overwhelmed by New Year's Day." I could not disclose to her that I was wed. Who, after all, would believe me? They were with me most of the time discussing things, but they did not see me get married, and I believe my mother has not told her yet.

"Are you certain you are alright?" I nodded and said, "Yes, Aunt," in response to my aunt's question once more. "I am doing fine." I said, wanting to turn away from her, "I have to go upstairs now."

"Whatever it is that is bothering you, put it in prayer and not let it weigh you down, okay?" she said, letting out a sigh.

"All right, Aunt." My mother smiled at us and said to her sister, "She will be fine, Juliet," and I nodded as I watched her leave the kitchen. "She is leaving tomorrow to go to her husband's house in the city."

"How come?" Mrs. Juliet, my aunt, appeared astonished. She turned quickly to face my mother, who, despite the time of night, was stunning. My mother was still as radiant as the sun.

"Julienne, you do not mean it. Do you mean that we are unaware that your daughter is married? What time? In what way?" My mother sighed, handed Agnes the cup of water she was holding back, Agnes went back to the kitchen when my aunt asked.

"Juliet, it is a long story. But Amara will benefit from it. She is our daughter; do not worry, she will be alright." My aunt was her only younger sister, and my mother comforted her. She approached me then.

"Come on, Amara. Let us go pack some of your stuff in your room. The driver of the car will arrive on time to take you to your husband's house; it will not be long until morning. Sweet dreams, my sister." My mother told her younger sister as she approached to meet me.

I wanted to cry and argue again, but I knew I was supposed to be an obedient girl, so I let my mother put her arm around my shoulder and led me back to my upstairs room.