I strode down the pleasant path of my neighborhood, curtsying every time I passed by an elderly person. Their silent admiration made me feel important, and I held unto that a little longer, knowing that it would go as quickly as it came. Humans were fickle.

My parents named me Pride, almost as if they knew who I'd be before I became a fetus. I had straight A's, great features, and a good head on my shoulders. But the side effects of being so smart was that I was often disliked. My sister hated my guts, my mom joked that I was adopted, and all the boys I'd ever dated said I was "difficult and not worth the stress" — which was okay because I didn't think highly of them either.

So, Anita was the favored one. My flirtatious goddess of a sister with average grades, the common sense to weasel out of any trouble, and a healthy load of sass. She hasn't been a virgin since she turned seventeen — sex was like a second language to her. I have never had sex. Not because I haven't had the opportunity or was asexual but because I was anti-bullshit. I knew there was more to life than teenage lusts, vanity, and debauchery.

I walked briskly into my home, ascending up the staircase towards the brown wooden door of my parents room. I knocked twice and waited for the usual "come in" before entering. Mom and Dad were lounging on their huge white sofa across their bed, and Anita was sitting on the bar stool by the bar. I've always wondered why my parents had a bar built into their room since they hardly ever drank.

"You're late," my saucy twin quipped, looking at me with disapproval as she bit her nails.

"Well, time is relative so am I late or are you early?"

She rolled her eyes and flopped down from the bar stool, walking dramatically towards the flurry couch by the window which was where I stood. I greeted my mom and dad in our language, and hesitated.

"Sit down, Kelechi."

Uh-oh. Mom calling me by my middle name meant trouble. As I sat next to Ani, I mentally drafted a list of sins I might have committed today. Did not feed the dog. Check. Left the dishes in the sink. Check. Didn't return her earrings. Shit, she hated that. I was really in for it.

"There's a young man who's coming to visit late this evening. I need you to wear your best African dress," She paused, and I could already see the wheels turning in her head, "That yellow one you wore at your confirmation party will be perfect."

Holy shit, no.

"A young man coming to visit" meant one thing and one thing alone — I was to be a bride.

I thought at the age of twenty-three, I had successfully dodged the arranged marriage bullet. Gods, what a fool I was.

I chanced a glance at Anita, she had resumed biting her nails and looked as though we were talking about the weather. I reached shakily for the glass of orange juice resting on the stool before me and raised it to my lips.

"Uh, wh- who's coming?"

My dad spoke this time. "Chidi Adebayo."

I choked on my drink and suffered a series of sputtering. My sister's head whipped up so fast I thought it would fall off.

No. No, no, no, this could not be happening. Chidi Adebayo? The chief's son? Gods, no. Not only was he notorious for spending money recklessly and basically at the top of every girls list of most wanted husbands, but he was also the love of my sister's life and has been since the day he helped her carry her bucket into the house. He was one of her many lovers, she talked about him non-stop and had already planned their wedding in her head. She even knew what names their kids would have.

This was a catastrophe.

"Kelechi! That's a new carpet!" My mom shrieked, looking at the horrific orange stain on her white fluffy carpet. "How many times have I told you not to talk when drinking? Make sure you clean up that mess."

As if I would actually care about a stupid stain on an even stupider carpet when my whole life was about to be upended. I only nodded though, not trusting myself to speak. I looked at Ani again instead. Her face was awfully tight and her lips were pressed into a thin line.

That evening, I was anything but calm. I excreted so much sweat I had to change my outfit twice, all to my mother's chagrin. I ended up wearing a velvet maxi dress, it showed a bit of skin but was necessary as it invited breeze to dry me up.

When Chidi showed up with his Uncle, the bag of kola nuts they carried confirmed my suspicions. I was to be married. Sold like some trophy wife — no doubt to elevate their ranks in society. How was this fair? I worked my whole life to avoid this, to be independent. I had the best grades and went to the best school only to be stuck in a marriage of convenience with a man I had no interest in whatsoever. I pictured myself ballooning up with Chidi's babe and being a stay-at-home mum. 

I nearly threw up.

I've never even cared about marriage! Anita was the hopeless romantic. Not me. Never me. I cared about the more important things, like success and achievement. Both of which would become nonexistent in my life if this abominable wedding pulled through.

I could barely reign my rage in as the two families conversed about how they were going to ruin my perfectly planned life. Chidi was looking at me intensely from his position adjacent to me. His tall, muscular build seemed to take up all the space on the large couch as his wide lips puckered up into a smug smile.  Cringing, I turned my gaze away quickly. 

"Yes, yes, she's very beautiful indeed," his hideous uncle was saying while rubbing his pot belly, a chewing stick dangling in his mouth.

Anita — who was sitting between my mum and I — was trying hard, and failing to suppress a giggle while I painstakingly plastered a smile on my face as Chidi's uncle continued to talk about what a great union this was and an even greater investment.

"Shall we leave the couple to get to know each other, then?" he asked matter-of-factly.

Shit.

As everyone nodded in agreement and filed out of the room, Ani's haunted face being the last, I decided I wasn't going to sit through what would undoubtedly be the most awkward conversation in history.

"I've got diarrhea. Need to go to the ladies." Without looking back, I headed straight for the back door.

I don't know how long I stayed out there until my dad showed up. He looked torn and I saw my window.

"Papa, please don't let me marry him. Please. I'd be miserable." I was closer to my dad and I've always known I was his favorite. We had the sort of relationship I could never cultivate with my mother, and I knew he would never agree to this if he knew how much it upset me. Mother must've talked him into it. She was a lot like Mrs. Bennet from Pride and Prejudice.

My pleas fell on deaf ears, however. Dad told me he couldn't change hundred years of tradition and that it was my duty as the eldest daughter to marry into a good family. He said I didn't see it yet but he was giving me the best life. He wanted to be assured that I was all set before he died.

And so my fate was sealed. On the eighteenth of October 2020, I would be wed to my sister's leftover.

A week later, while eavesdropping on my mum and dad, I discovered that Chidi was actually meant to marry Ani but had decided it was me he wanted instead. Apparently, he's wanted me since childhood and I never even noticed. He probably even got close to Anita to get to me. The disdainful sadist hijacked my life, my career and my dreams just cause his little ego was hurt.

As I sat under the huge canopy on that cursed wedding day, beautiful and radiant in my stunning, gold African get-up, my dad smiling heartily, my mum in tears, Anita silently throwing daggers in my direction, and Chidi staring at me with naked satisfaction, I made a decision.

If my life was no longer my own, and my dreams were replaced with filthy diapers and cringeworthy coitus, I was going to make damn sure Chidi spent the rest of his pathetic existence wishing he'd married my wayward sister after all.

Happy Wedding day, Creep.

A/n: Oof. That was intense. Pride deserves a vote as a boost for what's in store for her, don't you think?