When my husband died, he was there for me. He called often to check on me and was there during the funeral. Everything I needed, he was just a call away. He supported me financially by helping with renting expenses and emotionally by sending me motivational messages and hymns. He’s someone I’ve known for ages. He knew my husband too.

FOLLOW US ON WHATSAPP CHANNEL TO RECEIVE ALL STORIES IN YOUR INBOX

Right after the funeral, he proposed to me. I laughed it off, but he was serious about it and wouldn’t let me laugh my way out of it. According to him, there was another man around me whom he figured was interested in me, so he wanted to act quickly before the other man had a chance.

I was very frank with him, explaining that my emotional state wouldn’t allow me to fall in love. He told me, “If it’s about traditions surrounding widowhood, then don’t worry. I will wait in the dark until everything is sorted.”

It wasn’t about anything traditional. My husband and I had been married for six years before he passed away. We had two kids. Our marriage was the best thing that had ever happened to me. My husband was everything good in my life. He gave me a peaceful home and was a pillar behind my growth and everything I achieved. I needed time to mourn and time to heal. I needed a quiet spot in the world to be alone and grieve such a man. Falling in love again wasn’t part of the plan.

His name is Aboagye. He understood my need for space to heal and advised that I shouldn’t take too long because the world of the living keeps moving and doesn’t wait for anyone. He didn’t withdraw completely from me. From time to time, he called to check on us. He would come home occasionally to bring gifts for the kids.

After a year, when I took off my mourning clothes, I started entertaining him. To me, he had done enough to deserve my attention. I began calling him often. I visited him with the kids, and he proposed again. This time, he told me, “You’ve mourned enough. You can be with me and still mourn him; I’m not going to stop you. Just say yes, and let’s begin something. Even if you want to keep it a secret, I don’t mind.”

I said yes to him and also told him we should keep it a secret until it was safe for me and the kids. I wanted to use that period to introduce the kids to him slowly and let them come to terms with the fact that there was another man in my life—not a replacement for their dad, but someone to play a similar role.

I began spending some nights with him. He also came around to my place, spent the night, and left at dawn. He helped the kids whenever he was around. He played with them, brought them toys, and sweet things. The firstborn started calling him “Uncle Daddy.” Everything was going well until people around us started talking.

Some had seen him leaving my place at dawn and grew suspicious. Others had observed our relationship for a long time and had started asking questions. Aunt Efia called one morning and said, “If you’re seeing Aboagye, I urge you to stop. It’s not healthy.”

I lied. I said we were just friends. She told me, “You could be just friends, but not everyone will believe you, especially the woman who’s pregnant with his child. They are making plans to confront you, so stay away.”

“A woman is pregnant with his child?” I asked, trying hard to hide the shock in my voice.
“You’re his friend, and he hasn’t told you something this important?” she asked.

I got the details of the said woman, did my own little investigation, and realized that indeed the lady was pregnant, and Aboagye was responsible. When I asked him about it, he denied it. When I told him I was ready to go with him to see the lady and get the truth, he started softening his stance.

He came clean. He said he wasn’t sure I was going to accept him. He added that the pregnancy wasn’t planned—it just happened. Honestly, I was broken. I didn’t realize how deeply I had fallen in love with him until I started hurting. Memories of my husband flashed through my mind, and I began crying. “Maybe this is my husband’s way of telling me not to see any man again,” I told myself. I broke up with him that very day and pleaded with him to stay away.

I’m thirty-four years old. I’m very sure I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life. I don’t want to die alone. I want to spend the rest of my life with someone else, but not just anyone. I need commitment, and I need the truth too. Aboagye showed that commitment until this came out. I’m trying to get him out of my head, but he’s not making the situation easy for me.

The fact that the kids keep asking about him until he comes around makes it even tougher for me. He came to tell me what was new between him and the pregnant lady. He said he had sat with the family and agreed to name the child, but marriage wouldn’t be possible. He said he had paid off the lady and compensated her family, so he was free. It’s me he wants; that’s why he’s doing all that.

Marriage Through the Eyes of Millennials and Gen-Z

Hmmm. It’s tough for me at this moment, honestly. I feel like he has tried for me. He has shown signs of dedication, and the fact that he would put everything at rest for my sake is laudable. I want to believe him and start all over again with him. I have two kids. He’ll soon have one. I don’t have a problem even if he brings the child home in the future. I’m asking: Is it worth the risk? Looking at everything that has happened.

—Linda

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 submissions@silentbeads.com. You can also drop your number and we will call you so you tell us your story.

*****