She said she wanted a child. I asked why her husband hadn’t been able to give her a child, and she said she wasn’t married.

“You’re wearing a wedding ring, and you said you aren’t married?”

She looked at her finger and chuckled. “Oh, this? It’s just for fashion. Nothing serious.”

I would have believed her if I hadn’t already seen her wedding photos on her timeline. I also knew someone who had attended the wedding. I knew too much to take what she was telling me hook, line, and sinker.

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After that, she started visiting me more often than she used to. She would take off her ring before visiting me and put it back on once she was leaving. I knew there was a problem with her marriage, but I wanted to hear it from her. Each time she came around and I asked about it, she changed the topic. She said she didn’t have a marriage to talk about, so I should let her be.

Then, one day, she finally opened up.

She had been married for seven years. She was twenty-nine when she got married. A few weeks after the wedding, her husband travelled back abroad and promised to do everything possible for her to join him. She thought it would happen very soon, so when her husband asked her to move into his family house while she waited, she obliged.

Seven years later, she was still living with her mother-in-law and waiting for her husband to bring her abroad.

I asked her, “So why don’t you leave the marriage and try again somewhere else?”

She told me she had tried on several occasions, but her family wouldn’t allow her. Because her husband called every day, they believed there was still hope for the marriage.

And then she told me, “I just want to get pregnant. That will cut the whole process short. They’ll let me go.”

She’s very beautiful and knows how to dress. She has a good job that should make her happy, but she’s not. From all indications, I was the guy she had selected to have a child with.

I was frank with her that I wouldn’t mind dating her properly and marrying her when the time came, but she needed to be a free person first.

“Then you have to help me be free. Once we get pregnant, I’m free,” she said, almost laughing.

I told her it wasn’t as easy as she made it sound, and she told me to be a man.

I liked her presence and the spark she came with. But the idea of having a child with her made me take a few steps back. Eventually, however, I couldn’t help it anymore.

One day at my place, it happened. I protected myself to ensure no pregnancy would result. Afterwards, she thanked me for being the first person she had done it with in the past seven years.

And once the first one happened, we opened the floodgates for the rest to follow.

I had fears, but she seemed to have none. She would come and go without thinking about what others would say.

A few months after our relationship became intimate, she took me to an empty apartment and asked if I liked the place. I asked who it was for. She said she had rented it. She was finally leaving her mother-in-law’s house to begin a new life.

I applauded her for the bold step she had taken. We were in the process of packing her things out of her mother-in-law’s house when, one evening, she called and told me her husband had unexpectedly returned from abroad.

I was like, “How? He didn’t tell you he was coming?”

She said he didn’t even tell his own mother that he was coming. I asked what would happen next, and she told me she would call me.

We talked every day after his arrival, but she didn’t say much about what was happening between them.

Three days after he returned, she came to my place after work. It felt very wrong to me that her husband was in Ghana and we were doing it, but it happened. She said she hadn’t allowed him to touch her because, to her, there was no marriage anymore. She also said she was still moving out of his family house.

As we speak, she has packed all her things and moved into the apartment she rented. Her husband doesn’t know where she has moved to. She’s doing all that because she wants to get a divorce before he returns abroad.

From the stories she tells me, the man is ready to make amends, but the fact that he’s going to leave her here again is what’s making her go crazy. She tells me to stay behind her and be the push she needs to get things done.

I do my best, but my conscience tells me I’m the one putting asunder what God has put together, and my punishment will be bigger.

I’ve come to love her enough to be convinced that she’s the one for me, but the drama surrounding her exit from the marriage is what’s killing me. Looking at everything we’ve been through to this point, do you think I’m at fault in any way?

She had wanted to leave long before I came into the picture, but her family didn’t allow her. Then I came along, and according to her, that gave her the strength to finally push herself towards the finish line.

She has come this far because of me, and she knows very well that I’ve got her back. But no matter how I look at it, she’s still a married woman. If I eventually marry her, I’m forever going to be the man people say snatched her from her husband.

Her husband is still around in Ghana, but she’s no longer living with her mother-in-law. I go to her new house often, and I even have a spare key to her place.

It still doesn’t give my heart the rest it needs because, despite everything that has happened, she’s still someone’s wife.

In my shoes, what would you have done? Or what advice would you give me at this stage, looking at everything that’s happening?

—Alex

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