I couldn't hear anything other than the ringing in my ears. I had zoned out minutes ago. But then from a distance, I heard "Do you Danica Maya take this young man as your lawfully wedded husband?" The magistrate had a deep voice that made me feel like I was about to be doomed for all eternity.
"Yes I do." I muttered, my heart pounding in my chest while I held in the tears that threatened to fall.
"And do you, Keith Alan take Danica Maya as your lawfully wedded husband?"
"Yes I do." He said and for the first time since I met them, I really looked at him and I was floored by his features. He looked like he had stepped out of a magazine. My self esteem took another downward plunge as I imagined what people would say about us. Him, gorgeous and me, not so gorgeous.
" I now pronounce thee husband and wife." The magistrate declared and a breath escaped from my nose. Looking at him, I wondered if we were supposed to kiss but he gave me a look that said don't you dare and I suddenly had an ominous feeling. I forced myself to smile at him, but he looked away. I suddenly became conscious of the weight of the ring on my finger which felt alien and I instantly hated it.
I wondered why I was trying so hard. He disliked me at first sight. I could see the stark disgust in his eyes, and the first thing he asked his mother right there in my presence when he first saw me was "She's black? How come you never told me she's black? I don't do black girls mother...and you could have chosen a slimmer person not this."
"Deal with it." His mother had muttered in reply. I couldn't find it in me to blame him because I imagined he felt like a cornered animal, sacrificed by his family and forced to give up his freedom all in the name of business expansion. But that doesn't change the fact that I was hurt. It would have been kind of him to say it when I wasn't within hearing shot.
Instead he said it there. Right there in my presence! Come on. Have some regard for my feelings, please! I didn't ask for it, I didn't want it, I never even dreamt of it. It was just another bad meal life dished out to me and there was nothing I could do about it.
When the ceremony was over, his mother left first and then he followed. I watched his back disappear and I nervously smoothed my hand down my gown. It was a simple gown that showed little to no cleavage. It was free and I liked it. I took deep calming breaths and then followed them and soon I was outside.
My husband hasn't said a word to me since we met. Not one word. All I know is that his name is Keith Alan and that he is 25 years old. He is close to, if not over 6 feet tall, and has the greenest eyes I have ever seen. His upper lip is a bit thinner than the lower lip. All these together with his black hair somehow made him into a thing of beauty. He was a heartbreaker, that much was obvious. His mother didn't say anything to me at all, she just got into her car and left. I slowly walked behind him because I didn't know if he wanted me to stand next to him.
"Can you please walk faster? I don't have all the time in the world to waste here waiting for you to crawl to the car." He said with annoyance in his voice when he got into. I quickly climbed into the limo and tried to maintain a distance between us. He didn't like me and I didn't want to annoy him more by mistakenly touching him.
Before my father left for his trip, he told me my things would be moved to my new home while we were in the court for the ceremony, so I knew I wasn't going back to my childhood home. Instead, I tried to imagine what the new place is like. I looked at Keith out of the corner of my eye and saw him tapping away on his phone. I tried to imagine the kind of space he lived in but nothing came to mind. So I pulled out my own phone from my purse and began playing a game. I looked up when the car slowed down and I heard gates open. I looked outside and I saw what I was used to. Lawn properly trimmed, a driveway, a fountain. When I got out of the car, I wasn't surprised or amazed by what I saw. Another house that looked like it came out of an interior deco magazine, just like my parents'. Typical. He probably had staff, a butler, and expensive potted plants in different places, just like my father. Typical.
I followed him in like a lamb led to the slaughter house because that was exactly how I felt. When we got inside, I was surprised to see no activity. There was no one bustling around around the house because the master of the house just returned. The house echoed. It was empty.
"Where's the staff? Did you give them a day off?" I asked and he looked at me.
"There are no staff." He replied and that was when realisation dawned on me. I was supposed to do them by myself? How was I supposed to do all the cleaning and cooking on my own?
"From the look on your face, I assume you understand the work already cut out for you. I don't like staying in a dirty environment. I don't like the idea of refrigerated food, so I expect you to make my food everyday. I'm not having sex with you, so don't expect anything from me. This is an open relationship. It is strictly a marriage on paper. I have a partner who I care about. I don't know if you have a partner too but don't drag my name in the mud whenever you do what you want to do. And PLEASE, don't show your cleavage around me. It's disgusting. Your room is the one down the hall. You stay down here and I'll stay up there. That way we don't have to run into each other. Do not ask me where I have been, what I have been up to, and the likes of it. Do not speak to me unless it is totally necessary. That's all for now." He completed and I felt cold. I pressed my hand against the neck of my dress to cover the nonexistent cleavage he mentioned and swallowed hard.
"I don't know how to cook." I said in a low voice and I mentally facepalmed because I couldn't believe that that was all I had to say in this situation.
"But you know how to eat like a cow." He replied and it felt like another hot knife was slowly but steadily sliding through my heart. It hurt so much. I've never done anything to deserve all the insults I get from people.
"I can't clean this place alone. It's too much, and just like you I have never done chores in my life." I said almost pleading with him.
"Better learn then." He said and then walked out. I fanned my face with my hands, hoping that if my face cooled down, the burn behind my eyes would too and the tears won't fall. I knew what he was doing. He was trying to frustrate me, make things hard enough for me to leave. I had read the contract over and over again to know if I could find hold in it but I didn't find any. Instead, what I found was a particular clause which said that if one party chickened out, the other will take all. So if I leave the marriage, everything my father worked for will go to my husband's family.
That wasn't even an option for me. I didn't want my father to hate me more than he already did. Another clause have room for divorce. It said we could get a divorce whenever we wanted as long as we have a son to take over. This wasn't an option for me because he already said there won't be any conjugal activity between us.
It felt like invisible walks were closing in on me and a whimper left my lips. I bit inside my cheek to hold the tears in but I failed. Pathetic nerve wrecking sobs left my mouth. I couldn't do anything to help my situation.