My husband and I decided to have two children. Right from the onset of dating, we sat down and planned our lives to a T. Two was what we agreed on. We promised each other that no matter how rich we became in life after marriage, we would only have two.

We got married, and our first child was a girl. The second one came two years later, also a girl. I asked my husband to be honest with me if he wanted to change the plan.

He said, “Yes, just one more, and maybe we would have a boy to balance the house.”

As a loving wife, I didn’t argue. Three years later, Amanda arrived with a broad smile I had never seen on a baby before. Like she was saying, “Tadaaa, I’m also here.”

READ ALSO: My Wife Got Pregnant, but She Didn’t Know Who the Father Was

He suggested another round, and this time I said no.

“We’ll get to ten if we don’t take care, especially when nothing is guaranteed.”

My husband was detached at some point. I didn’t judge him. I prayed for him to heal internally, take over the marriage again, and drive us to safety.

For over three years, we didn’t have any issues. And then one morning, two women came to knock on our door. There was a child between them. When I called my husband and told him he had visitors, he came in and stood there for over a minute, watching them and running his hand through his hair. I knew there was a problem.

The elderly woman among them said, “It has taken us forever to see where you live. You won’t pick our calls, so we had no option.”

The little boy between them was my husband’s son. The boy’s mother died while delivering him. My husband attended her funeral and even paid for the funeral. After the funeral, the child was left in the care of the younger woman among the two who had brought him to us. My husband was sending money and visiting until, all of a sudden, the money stopped coming and the visits too.

This happened in his hometown, and my husband’s parents knew about the story.

I asked the women, “So you are coming for money?”

The younger woman responded, “No, I’m not. I’m bringing the child. I need to live my life too.”

I thanked them and asked them to leave the child with us and go. All this while, my husband hadn’t said a word. He was just pacing up and down like something of his was missing.

When they were gone, I asked him, “Now tell me, what do we do with this one?”

He went down on his knees and started begging. I looked at the child and his crooked head. The fact that he didn’t suckle the breast of his biological mother. The fact that a woman had to die for my husband to get a male child broke me into pieces.

I took the boy into the room. Only three years old. I told him he was home.

As the boy was growing up, I started comparing him to my own children. Even the girls had something that their father had, but this boy had nothing. I would check his nails and compare them to my husband’s. I would look at the way he walked. The fact that his head was crooked even made me suspicious because my daughters had their father’s head.

I told him, “Agyei, please do a DNA test. This child looks suspicious.”

He asked me, “Where’s the money to do that?”

I answered, “You’ll save a lot of money if you do. One term’s secondary school fees would be more expensive than a DNA test. Do it.”

He brushed me aside. He even called it insecurity and asked if I thought he would love the boy more than the girls.

I said, “The girls have the love of their mother already. They can live with that even if you decide to love the boy more, but I’m telling you what my intuition is telling me.”

The boy had lived with us for five years when, one day, he took him to do the DNA test. When the results came, I was right. My husband was excluded from being the father of the child.

My husband said the DNA test could be wrong, so he would do it again. That was what brought the fight between us. I had forgiven the greatest of sins to still live with a cheating husband, but when he started disrespecting my opinions concerning the DNA results, I felt disrespected. I felt he was hanging on to a straw just to keep the boy.

I called my father-in-law to tell him, and he also sided with my husband, saying machines can be wrong all the time, so I should be patient.

“I know you don’t like the boy, but let the right thing be done,” he said.

I was livid.

“I’ve raised this kid as my own for five years, and you think I don’t like him? I won’t be surprised if other children of yours show up after you die. Your wife should start investigating you.”

Yes, I went too far, but that’s exactly how far I wanted to go with him. I’d haboured pain for so long.

This fire in my marriage was hard to put out. I was fighting everybody, including my husband. I asked my husband, “Should I take the girls with me when I’m leaving?”

“Leaving to where?”

“I’m leaving the marriage. I’m tired of fighting.”

I left a week later, and I left with everything I ever owned, including my three girls. By the time he came begging, I was emotionally drained and had left the marriage long ago.

I told him, “I loved you enough to stay when you came home with a child you believed was yours. Do you think I’m a fool? Now I have to fight everyone to remain in this marriage?”

Is There A Man Out There Who Doesn’t Cheat?

As if I was a prophet. Seven years later, my ex-husband’s father died. Three people showed up claiming they were also children of the deceased man. As I write this, they are still in court arguing the case so they can share his properties.

My ex-husband eventually let the boy go when the marriage was over. Now he tells me, “I don’t know why I had to lose my marriage over this.”

He speaks with regret in his eyes, but to be honest with you, living without him has given me some of the best days of my life. My money is enough for me. My kids are well fed and well grown, even though nothing comes from him.

I’ve learned one thing about forgiveness. It’s not always worth it, but it’s worth your peace and everything in you.

—Lena

This story you just read was sent to us by someone just like you. We know you have a story too. Email it to us at [email protected]. You can also drop your number and we will call you so you tell us your story.

******