The story you are about to read is being written right now from my bedroom. My husband is somewhere hidden in the living room, probably out of shame, because I just turned him down for sex. He got angry and walked out, leaving me here alone. In the quiet, I cannot help but think about the man I dated before him, wondering to myself, would things have been different?

He was a National Service person, new in town, when I first met him standing outside my mother’s shop. He did not come to buy anything. He just stopped to ask for my name, where I went to school, and what year I was in. We chatted briefly about WASSCE exams before he took his leave, a total stranger out of nowhere.

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The next time I saw him, my exams were over. He came to the shop specifically to ask my mother for permission to take me on a walk. As we walked, we talked about our plans for the future. He had just graduated from university as an architect and was completing his National Service. He was such a gentleman. After about thirty minutes of talking, he brought me back to the shop and thanked my mother.

My mother did not like him at all. She said he was a womanizer and claimed she had seen many girls going in and out of his apartment. Later, one of my aunties told me he had gotten her friend pregnant and forced her to have an abortion. People in town knew his reputation.

When my WASSCE results came out, I could not go straight to the university because I failed one of my papers. I got a job at the local council to pass the time while studying to rewrite it. He was still in town, and we remained friends. A year later, he proposed, and I said yes. He was the kind of man who made me think about my future, and I loved that about him. He was kind, caring, very supportive, and always a gentleman. He truly pampered me. He did not even initiate sex until about a year into the relationship, when I felt ready to give myself to him.

My family hated him, and he knew it. Still, he tried everything possible to win them over. One night, he came to our house to meet my mother. I stayed in my room because he asked to speak with her alone, but from where I was, I saw him drop to his knees. He begged my mother to give him a chance, saying, “I will treat her well. I am a changed man.” But nothing he said could soften her heart. It was like stone, and she ended up throwing him out.

After he left, he called my phone and told me not to worry. He said he was going to talk to my father’s family instead. His reputation preceded him before he could try to convince them. At the end of the meeting, all they knew was that he was just a playboy who wanted to marry their daughter, and they would not hear any of it. For me, I did not have a problem with it. If nothing else, he had always been honest with me from the beginning about his wild past and everything he had done.

His side of the family was against me too. One of his girlfriends held a special place in his mother’s heart, so because of her, his mother travelled to come and warn my mother to tell me to stay out of his life.

I loved Kwasi, and I wanted to marry him. I believed he was a changed man who was willing to wait so we could have a victorious end. But his mother threatening me made me rethink everything. I was just a young girl, and I really did not want to tangle myself in all that drama. I had gotten into nursing school at this time. After so much thinking and asking myself the right questions, I sent him a long breakup text.

His reaction was expected. He would not let me go. He even asked me to do the impossible by trying to elope with him. “Our families will never know and will never bother us again,” he said. “It will just be you, me, and our babies when they start coming.”

I was not convinced, so he said he would give me time to think about it. That went on for about two years, the constant reassurance, the hope, and the belief that we could somehow make it work. Then, I did not hear from him for a while.

One day, he called out of nowhere to tell me he was about to propose to another girl. He wanted to ask me one last time if there was any chance of us getting back together. I answered no. A few months later, he sent an invitation to his wedding. I did not go. I was simply not brave enough to watch him marry someone else. I have not heard from him since.

Now, ten years into my own marriage to my husband, I still find myself wondering about him. Kwasi, what has life become for him?

I wonder what my life would have looked like if I had said yes. If I had eloped with him, gotten married, and lived far away from the family noise. Would he really have changed? Would he have been the loving husband he promised to be? Could we have managed to stay clear of all the family drama? Would I have been happier?

Deep down, I know tonight is not really about my ex-boyfriend. Maybe tonight is just about wanting to feel wanted, cherished, safe, and emotionally held by the man I actually married.

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

I have seen firsthand what having problematic in-laws can do to a marriage. The aftermath is always harsh. Hence my refusal to put any of us through that mess. But even as I lie here thinking about what could have been, I know that if I had to make that decision all over again, I would still walk away.

But why am I thinking of him when I should focus on my husband of ten years?

—MIMI

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