Married After Midnight

Relationship Status

The covers against her skin were cozy and soft. The room had a warm glow from the morning sun that peeked through the window and the air had the faint smell of blueberry tarts. Amara stirred in the satin sheets drifting deeper into sleep. For a brief moment all was quiet, perfect, peaceful, but Amara's eyes quickly shot open and she sprang up in the bed. The room span as her eyes failed to adjust to the light and blood rushed from her head, but she breathed slowed, controlled, breaths and stared at the beige walls of the room as she waited.

Where was she?

Whose house was this?

What happened?

The questions popped up in her head one after the other as she took in everything. The room was neat, with every colour complementing the other, it was hard to believe a man lived here. A black rose sat on the bedside table and it was the only thing that stood out. It was a rare beauty, freshly picked with its thorns still attached yet Amara didn't pay it much attention. She rolled out of the warmth of the bed and gave herself a quick once over. The lace lingerie from last night was still on her body but her dress was missing. It had been replaced with a button-down twice her size and long enough to be a dress. There was no one else in the room. Amara couldn't tell if someone had slept with her or not and she didn't want to know. The night before was a blurred memory of jumbled events and emotions. A melting pot of ingredients she couldn't make out

Amara stepped out of the room. The apartment was still, quiet, felt empty. She walked without a sound, her eyes peeled for a person or her things. She stood behind a wall and from there she could see the door. It was a straight path through the living room and from the corner of her eye she saw her bag along with her phone at the centre of the coffee table, she smiled. It was an easy grab-and-go. Hurriedly she stepped from behind the wall and quickly went to the table picking up her phone and clutch.

"Nice to see you didn't succumb to a hangover."

Amara's spine straightened like plywood, her body grew stiff and slowly she turned. Behind the kitchen counter, Kalon stood, his hair slightly damp with a towel around his neck and two cups of coffee in his hand along with a sly grin. Amara sighed deeply; she was trying to avoid seeing who she had laid with, yet he was staring at her with a face of satisfaction.

"Listen, thanks for last night but I'm going to go," she said while walking to the door.

Kalon walked towards the couch. "The details of last night would interest you more than I but I can't stop you from leaving Mrs Velez."

Amara's hand was already on the doorknob, but his words made her stop. Slowly she turned to the man that sat comfortably on the couch with a cup of coffee.

"Who?" she questioned cluelessly.

He smiled and held up a file of papers. "Read the papers, Kotele."

Amara sat, staring at the papers taking in everything. They said it clear as day with no stutter or stammer. She was married to the man that sat in front of her enjoying a cup of black coffee. Her throat felt dry and her jaw latched with thoughts. How did this happen?

"These can't be legal, they can't be real," she finally said looking up from the papers.

"You stared at them for 20 minutes, they're as real as the noise outside."

"No sain paster would sign off on this."

"He's sain," Kalon said with a smile. "But money talks to him a lot louder than God."

"Who the fuck are you? You think this so-called marriage is gonna last!?"

"By the end of the day, both those questions will be answered."