Before he was my husband, he was my friend. A friend I trusted, a friend who didn’t like to see others hurt me. So when he proposed, I remembered what they said about marrying your friend being the best thing you could do. I gave it a go.

His family not wanting me to be his wife was not the hardest hurdle we had to overcome. There were many more. But we finally walked down the aisle. That particular Thursday, years ago, we danced to the glory of God. Finally, God did it. I was going to my husband’s house.

Right now, we are three years into this marriage, with a baby born into it. We survived 12 good years of knowing each other. I respected him, I loved him. I played my part as a woman, as a wife, even when it meant taking the back seat. I was glad to.

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I quietly noticed when things changed. His shirts didn’t smell like the afterwash I used. They smelled like a man who had been somewhere else. When he stopped coming home to eat my food, I knew he was getting it from somewhere. He thought he was playing it cool. The joke was on him. I wanted to find out who the girl was, and I did. I know his taste, I am his taste, but this one he is cheating on me with is very uneducated, not particularly attractive, and likely unemployed, but she is audacious. Imagine, she has the audacity to ask how his wife and child are doing and he too replies. Very impressive. I am not belittling her, but I would have expected him to choose someone who at least matched me.

It broke my heart when I finally pieced everything together.

I didn’t confront him immediately. I waited and watched him come home every day, smile at me and the child, and wondered how and why it was so easy for him to do this to us. One evening, I asked if he was cheating. He vehemently denied it and was about to swear on his life when I interrupted him. “Tell me the truth. I will forgive you.” He was still adamant, so one by one I laid out the evidence I had gathered and watched his face go blank.

cried with our baby boy in my arms and kept asking why. He had no answer.

“I will change. In fact, I will not see her again.” He looked at me and swore.

I forgave him, not entirely, but I did. Then I turned into a watchdog. It was exhausting. I questioned everywhere he went. I was constantly on edge, as if bracing myself to catch him again. And I did catch him again, in a worse situation than the first time. This time, I am learning that the man I married is not the same man I dated. He is involved in all kinds of flirting, chasing women, everything unsavoury. He is doing all of it.

Finding out this time did not hit me the way it did the first time. Maybe the shock has worn off. Maybe this is the part where I am losing feeling for a man I have known and loved for 15 years.

What makes it worse is that he is still in touch with this woman and is planning to meet her this weekend.

It’s Not God’s Law For A Man To Apologize To A Woman

I am planning to show up at the place they have scheduled to meet and catch him in the act. But to what end? And then what? What is the worst that could happen? How will it help me?

Should I walk away from this marriage because I cannot stand the cheating, or should I confront him and see if we can salvage things? I still love my husband and I know he loves me too. I am also worried about my child if I leave. But I am losing my mind.

—Fatia

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