Four years ago I experienced the worse heartbreak of my life. It was 14th February. The night of Valentine. Everything in me gave up. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t sit. I couldn’t stand. Even my own tears deserted me. I paced around my boyfriend’s house as if I didn’t know my way into his room. I called his phone. It rang but he never picked up. I called again and put my ears behind his window. His phone was ringing from the inside but he wasn’t picking up. I knocked. I screamed his name. I called again. No response came through. I kept going around the house, hoping something would change. It was around twelve midnight when his next-door neighbor asked me, “Lady, is everything alright with you?”

Our relationship was three years old. His father was the pastor of our church so it was through the church that I got to know him. He wasn’t in town when his father was pastoring our church. He was living abroad but came around once every year. I didn’t pay him much attention though he was very free with all my friends. One day after church, he stopped me and took my number. The following day, he called to tell me he wants to be friends with me. A week after being friends, he proposed to me. I didn’t say yes because the proposal sounded hurried. He said, “I would be going back very soon and I want to have you say yes before I finally leave.” I told him, “I can respond to your proposal even if you’re not here. No need to rush.”

My only concern was how we were going to manage the distance. But he told me, “When I return next year, I wouldn’t be going back again. It’s my father’s wish for me to come back home and work so I would be back, stay here, and find myself something to do.” I didn’t say yes immediately. He went back to the US, communicated with me every night and day until I finally said yes to his proposal. He was far from me but we never missed a day without being close to each other. He came back a year later and as he promised, he didn’t leave again. He got himself a very good job and started building his life locally.

A year or so later, his father got retired and was duly sent off. His parents didn’t fancy Accra life. They spoke lowly of the fast-paced living here and spoke highly of their hometown where everything seemed easy. Before his parents left Accra, his mother told me, “Henry is in your hands now. I’ve known you for a while and I know you can take very good care of him. Don’t allow him to go wayward. When the time is right and you come home, we would always welcome you with open arms.” That was an endorsement of our relationship and because of that, I did everything I could to ensure Henry was happy. When he called for me to visit and I couldn’t, he’ll tell me, “My mom asked you to take good care of me but see what you’re doing. Common visit, you want me to beg before you come around.” 

My birthday is on the 13th of February. The next day is valentine’s day. Every year he told me, “No need to celebrate your birthday. We’ll add it to the valentine and celebrate it in a mega style. Each year without fail, we celebrated Val’s day together with my birthday. I will get two separate gifts on that day. He will present them to me separately; “This is for your birthday.” I would open whatever he gave me right in front of him, jubilate before he present the val’s day gift. I would in turn present mine to him before we step out to chill. Year without fail, we did that.

In 2018 when my birthday was approaching he told me, “I won’t be available on Val’s day. Mom and dad had been complaining about my inability to visit them. I want to use this occasion to go and see them.” It was a Wednesday so I asked him, Does that mean you won’t go to work on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday? Why don’t you wait till the weekend so I can go with you?” He answered, “I’ve already asked permission from work and it has been granted. I can’t change it. Early morning the 13th, he sent me a birthday message and asked where we would be going. I responded, “Wherever you take me, I will follow.” 

We ended up at his place, and again, he gave me two separate gifts just as we do every year.  He told me, “I’m sad already. How can I be away from you on an important day like tomorrow is? When I return, we will celebrate valentine. No matter what, we ought to celebrate it.” I was happy he was still thinking about me. The fact that he had me in his plans made all the difference for my already ailing heart. I spent the night with him since I wasn’t going to see him for the next four days. 

Early 14th February, he sent me a message wishing me love and all these things that come with it. He ended by saying, “I’m on my way and I’m missing you already. How I wish you were here with me.” I responded, “If you don’t take care, I would also ask for permission and follow you.” It wasn’t possible so I allowed him to go. 

On Val’s night, I was home and feeling lonely. I sent him a text and he responded. We were chatting when he went offline. Then I had an idea. “Why don’t I go to his place and watch Netflix? I can wear his shirt and send him photos just to surprise him.” I got up, dressed up, and went straight to his place. When I got to the entrance, I saw his room light on. I told myself, “This guy can be so careless. Why would he leave his room light on?” I got there, put my key in and it didn’t go. I turned, pushed, and twisted the key 360’ but it didn’t enter. I saw a shadow across the room. I said, “Ah who did Henry leave his keys to that he’s occupying his room?” I called his phone and he didn’t pick up. I went to his window, called his phone and heard it ringing from the inside but he didn’t pick up. 

My heart started racing. “So this guy is here and he’s lying to me? Why would he do that? If he wants to be alone, at least, he could have discussed it with me and I would understand.” I started knocking on the door. Went behind and knocked on the window. No response. I sent him a message, “Dear, it’s me at the door. Why are you still around? Please talk to me because I’m worried.” After that message, I called again and his phone was off. I started suspecting a foul play. I knocked and knocked and knocked until I heard something that sounded like a lady’s voice. I screamed into the window; “Henry, I know you are in there with someone. I’m not leaving here until you come out.

I started crying. Warm tears and loud cries. I kept knocking on the window just to disturb them. I saw his next-door neighbor. When I got there at first, I saw him packing his things in a large truck. He was moving out of the house. I was there when the truck moved. Around 12midnight I was there when the truck returned to pick up his remaining stuff. He saw me pacing up and down and asked, “Lady, is everything alright? Is Henry not in there? Why are you crying?” I narrated the story to him and he said, “If he’s not minding you, then it’s time to go home. The problem would be worse if you wait all night and see him the next morning coming out with another woman as you suspect. It’s better you don’t see that so you can keep your heart and keep it calm.”

I wasn’t listening to him so he went inside and continued packing. When he was leaving he said, “Young lady, is it the pain you enjoy or you just don’t understand what I’m telling you?” If you see him tomorrow morning what would you do? Fight? Insult him? Throw shoes at him? All these won’t heal you so go home and work on what is left.” I didn’t mind him. He went and came back to meet me there. He asked me, “Where do you live? It’s late, let me take you home. This place is not safe.” He held my hand, pulled me into his car, and turned on the engine. I was screaming on top of my voice, cursing Henry for the pains he had caused me. 

When he moved the car, I put my head on the dashboard and cried my heart out. He didn’t say a word to console me or anything. All he asked was, “Where should I pass? Left or right?” I would speak through my teary voice, “Please, left.” He dropped me right in front of my house and went back. He didn’t even say goodbye. He just drove off like that. I didn’t sleep that night. I cried and continued calling Henry’s phone. As early as 6am I was in front of his door. When the next-door neighbor saw me, he shook his head and drove past me with what looked like the last of his things remaining in his room. I said in my head, “You’re not in my shoes so you don’t know know how it hurts.”

When I knocked, he opened. He stood in front of his door to ask me what I wanted. I said, “I want an explanation.” He was furious when trying to explain things to me; “What was that for? Do you know who was here with me last night? Why didn’t you ask questions instead of accusing me?” The lady was already gone so I asked him, “Who was it? Your mother? Your sister? Who was it?” He answered, “You’ve already formed your opinion so I don’t have any explanation to give. Think whatever you may think.”

For three good weeks, we were still fighting about who that girl was. Finally, he said, “If you don’t believe me, then what are you doing here? Let’s break up so we set ourselves free.” I said, “Great.” 

And that was the end of us. Three years of our lives went down the drain because of a single night of infidelity and insincerity. Of course, I cried. The pain was too much because I believed him. It’s always those you trust who will lower your casket down into your grave. The final letdown.

One day I was in my room when a girl in the house came to knock on my door that I’ve gotten a visitor. I came out and it was Henry’s next-door neighbor. When he saw me he laughed. When I took him in he asked why I’m still alive. When I tried explaining he said, “I thought you’ll be dead by now. Thank God you survived.” He made the whole thing look like a joke. At every given opportunity, he teased me. I asked him, “You came looking for me or you were in the neighborhood?” He answered, “I came looking for your obituary posters, and then I saw you’re still alive. Good to meet you again.”

We talked about what happened that day and how I finally broke up with Henry. I asked if he ever saw him with another woman apart from me and he said, “I can’t talk about that. It’s between me and my brother. That aside, it won’t give you anything if I tell you. Or you want to go back to him?” I screamed, “Apuu!” 

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He came back often. It was later that he told me his mother lives in my neighborhood. I went with him to see his mother one day and the woman started singing heartily. She was so happy to meet me thinking I was her son’s girlfriend. Even when I said, “We are just friends…” The woman cut me off and said, “You think I’m a child. I’ve been like you before. I don’t bite so why would you try to deny it?” I looked at Next-Door Neighbor’s face and he looked at mine. He was about to tell his mother my story when I screamed, “Hey hey hey, not here I beg you.” His mother called me on the side and said, “He never brings home a woman. You’re the first that’s why I’m happy. Look at you two. You look good together. Push him to marry you before someone snatches you away. He’s a good man. You two would make good babies.”

When we were leaving we talked about it and laughed. He said, “I’m sorry, my mother doesn’t know that you don’t have a heart. Don’t mind her.” I said, “Your too known all you haven’t even taken a woman home. Now tell me, you and I who doesn’t have a heart? If you have a heart, what’s there to prove?”

He never stopped coming and each time he came around, we went to visit his mom. His mother was so sure we were dating so I told him, “Maybe we should just date and make her happy.” It was just a joke but this guy jumped on it and held on to every word as if it’s everything to him. “Yes let’s do it. Time to see if indeed you have anything left inside your chest.” He said it too often that one day I asked him, “Are you serious about this? Or it’s just one of your teasings.” He answered, “I won’t tease you with a proposal. It’s from my heart and I mean it.”

“Or it’s because your mom said it?”

“My mom didn’t say anything that wasn’t already there. I’ve liked you since the day you cried in my car. I’ve never had a woman cry for me that way. I was really moved. So it started from that night.”

I said yes to him.

The day we announced our marriage to his mother she said, “I’m not a today’s child ooo. I’ve been here long before you were born.” I tasted a series of love before I fell into the one that brought him into this world so I know how love looks like. You two look like love.”

A month before my wedding, Henry’s mother called me. She said, “Your man sent me to you. He had realized his mistakes and wants you back into his life. He’s sitting right here next to me. As I’m talking to you right now, he’s on his knees, palm in palm begging you to come back into his life.” I said, “Mom, that was two years ago. It took him two years to realize his mistakes? Wow, that’s too long.” She answered, “In fact, he realized his mistake long ago but he lacked the courage to approach you. Hence the delay.” I hit her with the news, “I’m sorry mom, but I’m getting married next month.” She screamed, “Are you serious? So soon?” I answered, “God is like that. His time is always soon. Tell him for me. And tell him also that I’m getting married to the man who once lived next door to him.”

He took the phone from his mom and asked me, “How come? How did that happen? Where did you meet him?” I told him everything and how it all started. I said, “So when you were busy cheating on me with another woman, God was also busy creating a new relationship for me. He brought me home that night when my heart was on fire and it’s the reason I find a home with him.” 

We’ve been married for a year and a half. And this guy—my husband is the reason I know why it didn’t work between me and Henry. I’ve never had a man love me so desperately like my husband. He makes it easier for me to submit to him because where love goes, submission follows.

—Yaayaa

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