Chapter 30: 30. Conflicted Thoughts.

The room was dimly lit by a flickering lamp, casting intermittent golden glows. It was spacious, with an enormous bed taking center stage and a table positioned by its side.

Meka stood at the door, her eyes scanning the room, but her mind seemed distant, lost in thought. Her hands clutched the fabric of her skirt, the intricate braids of her hair cascaded down her back, adorned with delicate beads that shimmered in the faint light.

Marriage, she had always believed it would be as harmonious and beautiful as her parents'. When she first met Jelani and felt that flutter in her heart, she saw it as the most wonderful thing.

She had dreamt of marrying someone she loved, someone who made her laugh and blush. She wasn't sure if it was love, but her heart yearned for him like an addiction. Now, it felt like a terrible mistake.

Safiya had been right; it wasn't okay to marry someone you hardly know. She had thought she knew him, from the way he made her smile, the sweet whispers, and the fluttering of her heart and stomach. She had believed he was someone she could rely on.

But things were different. This wasn't the kind of marriage her parents had. Jelani had completely transformed into someone else.

He wasn't the sweet Jelani who used to make her smile occasionally; he had completely neglected her since she arrived in this kingdom.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she walked slowly towards the bed, then sat on it.

Why?

Why would he neglect her? He promised her. He promised to love her...

The door knob clicked, prompting Meka to quickly dry her eyes. She knew it must be Jelani entering without knocking. His previous mention of how much he despised tears reminded her not to cry.

As the door opened wider, he stepped inside, his eyes fixed straight ahead as if lost in thought.

Today, he was wearing a silky garment that exposed his well-toned chest. The lamp burning in the room made his brown skin glow, and his cheeks were well-carved. Undeniably handsome, with a composed and confident demeanor, but being handsome wasn't everything.

He suddenly turned to her, his mouth turning into a smile after a moment of seeming a bit upset. Meka's heart skipped a beat. No, it wasn't for the tingling in her chest anymore; that had died down the very first week they arrived here. Her heart skipped because she knew what he was going to do to her.

"Honey," his honey-coated mouth said as he walked towards her. She shifted slightly on the bed. Jelani sat close to her and brought his hand slowly to her face, but she shifted, causing him to frown.

"What is it, sweetie? Don't you want me?" he said, pouting his lips. Meka almost glared at him, but she knew it was taboo in this land. The rules here were much more strict than Dakar.

He shifted closer, and Meka yelped. She didn't need this. No, she didn't want this. At first, she was naive and thought this would go well, but he doesn't care. He does whatever he pleases, never listening to her. Sex was just simply sex to him.

There were no emotions involved, no connection. It wasn't how she had envisioned it. She had thought it would be the best part of marriage, but it felt empty and void of any real intimacy.

"Ready for me tonight, honey?" he whispered, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

Meka turned to him slowly, tears streaming silently down her face. "How could you?" she whispered, feeling betrayed that he didn't even know if she was okay. "I'm not... I'm not ready," she almost looked away, feeling conflicted about turning down the prince or any royal, but she was also royal, right?

"Listen," he began, reaching to wipe away her tears with the back of his hand. His mouth came close to her ear as he spoke softly, "You know I won't be having that, right? And please, stop the tears. You don't want people to think you are in hell when—" he coaxed her chin, his hand trailing down from her neck towards her chest, "when in fact, I'm treating you well."

"Jelani, please," she whispered. But he wasn't having it.

"Lie down, honey, and get rid of your clothes," he stood up and started untying the robe around his waist, his gaze piercing into hers. "Now," he mouthed.

Meka nodded and stood up slowly, the soft fabric of her skirt sliding down her legs as she removed it. She then unclasped the beaded top, letting it fall to the floor, revealing the glow of her skin under the yellow light of the lamp. Hesitantly, she lay down on the bed, her gaze looking up.

Jelani swiftly came on top of her and kissed her mouth. When he noticed that Meka didn't respond, he frowned. "Come on, honey, kiss me," he urged. Reluctantly, she did.

Jelani sighed as if he wasn't getting the response he wanted. He slowly trailed his mouth down her body, kissing everywhere he touched. This was the most he had done before se-"Part your legs, honey," he whispered.

She did as told, but not wide enough, so Jelani opened it a bit wider, and Meka flinched.

Then he came fully on top of her. He moved slowly, trying to look at her, but Meka's face didn't look at him at all.

He went ahead, pouncing into her, their nak''d skin glistening from sweat. He went in and out, groaning and probably enjoying it, but Meka said nothing. She never did, except the first night, when she hadn't known him better and thought, despite the pain, that this was how it was supposed to be.

Then she had realized she had been wrong. There was nothing good about this, except the satisfying of his needs. It was not satisfying to her.

"Argh," Jelani breathed as he pounced faster. "Oh, honey," he whispered, his voice low and breathy.

Meka held the sheet on the bed tighter as his pace grew faster and faster, until he finally slumped on top of her, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

They remained like that for a while, before he quickly got up and went to the nearby table where a pot of water had been kept. He drank some of it, and his gaze traveled back to her.

Meka returned his gaze, her tears now gone, but her face still displaying nervousness.

"You always do this," he snapped, causing Meka to flinch. "Every time I try to make love to you, you always have this expression like I repulse you."

Make love? Had they ever truly made love? This wasn't love. She doubted this was what her parents had. "I try my best," her voice trembling as if she was scared of him, "I genuinely try my best."

"Your best?" he let out a bitter laugh before walking towards her and squatting down. "Try harder," he said in a demanding tone. "This cannot be your best," he continued, getting back to his feet. "When I touch you, I want you to respond. I want you to wipe away those tears Meka, I hate it." He quickly dressed and left the room, slamming the door with a loud thud.

Meka sat up, her braids flowing down to her shoulders. She struggled to catch her breath as more tears streamed down her face. She didn't want this. She wanted to live a life full of love and happiness.

She didn't want to be in this marriage again, but how could she escape? Why would she leave? Society deemed it a disgrace, and as a woman, she had little say in the matter of marriage except when the man decided he didn't want to continue.

To make matters worse, she felt utterly stuck in this marriage, which was slowly draining the life out of her every single day.

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