The call came late in the night, around 11 pm. I saw it but didn’t think it was a good time to talk to someone whose number wasn’t on my phone. I watched the phone ring until it stopped and then put it on silent mode. Early in the morning, I saw the same number calling again. I picked it up. She didn’t greet or say hello or introduce herself. She started, “My husband is not in a good place because of what’s going on. Can you reconsider? Please don’t give birth.”

Instantly, I knew who was talking but why would my boyfriend’s wife call me to plead his case? I was confused. What did he say to convince her to call me?

I knew he was married right from the beginning. What I didn’t know was the depth of my feelings for him. He was a man helping me to get a job. When he failed, he told me he wasn’t going to stop until the day I found a job.

He would call and ask how I was doing. He would send me links to job openings he thought I qualified for. One day, life happened to me and the only person I could call was him. I needed financial assistance. I didn’t finish telling him my story when he said, “Send me your account number.”

He sent twice the amount I needed. It didn’t end there. He sent me money weekly and threw a lot of favours my way.

Maybe I felt indebted to him or I didn’t have morals. The first time was in a hotel. I didn’t ask him questions. Even when he attempted to take my clothes off, I watched him do it without fighting him. We ended up spending the night there. He didn’t propose but from that day going, our friendship became sexual. I saw myself as his girlfriend because he called me babe.

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He rented for me when I finally had a job. Everything in my room was financed by him. He bought me what I needed and bought me what he needed, things he would love to use when he visits. When I got my place, he came there often. He didn’t need to call. He only had to show up. Because he had been my help in ages past, I couldn’t break up with him, disrespect him or do anything that suggested I didn’t need him again.

He would be with me and his wife would call him on the phone. I heard the lies he told her and felt sad for myself because I knew she wasn’t the one he was lying to. I was the one dancing to the tunes of the ultimate lies, because no matter what, he wasn’t going to be mine. He would go home. I would be alone in my darkest nights. I might even die lonely because I didn’t strive to have my own man.

The first pregnancy sneaked in on me. I thought I was safe so at the critical moment of intimacy, I whispered into his ears; “Don’t worry, I’m safe.” He let his guard down and allowed everything to go inside. Weeks later, I was pregnant. He screamed, “I thought you said you were safe?” “Yes, I did. I got the maths wrong. I’m sorry.”

The mistake was mine so I didn’t try to delay the issue. He sent the money, I went to the hospital and came back without whatever was growing in me. When I told him I’d done it, he responded, “It shouldn’t happen again. Next time, you have to be very careful.” It was all my fault so all the blame was pushed on me. I accepted it and promised to be better. Promised not to get the maths wrong or whisper, “I’m safe” again.

I didn’t do all that again but less than a year later, I got pregnant again. When he asked how it happened, I had no answer for him because this time, I wasn’t the one who rang the bell of safety. It was he who decided to fall without a safety net. He let things go and also didn’t remind me to take post-precaution. He asked what we were going to do about it and without thinking twice, I said I was going to have it.

“No you don’t have to, he told me. This was a mistake I made. Why are you trying to make a temporary mistake permanent?”

Over the days, he promised a lot of things he knew would entice me. I loved all those things but I didn’t want to let go of a baby to have them. My future scared me. There were a lot of what-ifs. The biggest was the fear that I might not get pregnant again when I needed it the most. When God gives a gift you don’t want, he may take it away never to bring it back.

He came to my place often. Every day after work, he came to convince me to do it. I got scared. At one point, I thought he was going to do something to me. I shivered when we were alone. I tried to play it safe in those moments so I softened up for him to believe there was a chance. But when I kept telling him no and later disappeared, he knew he had to do something drastic but his wife calling me was beyond drastic.

I listened to her carefully, trying to pick a hint of anger or frustration from her voice. She was calm and straightforward. She had the tone of a woman who was ready for a girl-to-girl talk. She said, “I’m talking to you not because I’m OK for my husband to treat another woman like this but listen to me, unless you’re in the position to take care of the child alone, because if this news comes out, he’ll lose everything. If that happens, you get nothing and my household will also suffer. Don’t do it for me or for him but for yourself.”

I didn’t believe it was her. I believed it was a scheme he was using to get me to do it. He consulted another woman to play the role of his wife to get me to do it, I thought. It was his wife, I later found out.

The conversation didn’t happen only that day. She called on different days. When I finally agreed to do it, she said thank you. The day I did it, she called to check up on me. The next day, she texted to find out if I was OK. The last conversation we had she told me, “Never in your life give birth to a man who’s not fully yours. It’s a lifetime of suffering. You’ll always have to fight even for the minimum.”

We don’t talk anymore, me and her husband too. After everything, the man took a new job that sent him back home. When I called he picked up. When I needed something, he came through for me. When I told him to extend my greetings to his wife, he got uneasy.

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According to him, his wife was calm with me but it took a community to convince her to stay in the marriage. He needed to go home to make his marriage work. I was like, “How would she solve a problem like that and later ask for divorce?”

Well, their marriage is still alive while I’m here thinking of what tomorrow may bring. I keep asking God not to punish me for my indiscretion and also not to take his gift away from me at the time I need it the most. I hope he listens.

— Joyceline 

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