I was in my final year of university when I ended things with the man I loved truly and deeply. It wasn’t an easy decision, but I couldn’t keep ignoring the things he was doing. His actions were affecting my grades, my peace, and my sense of self. So I chose my books over heartbreak and walked away. I stayed single for ten years, pouring myself into work, into growth, and into helping others. I was building a life, even though it often felt like I was doing it alone.

In 2024, a man joined my church ministry, and somehow, we became inseparable. He was always around me, holding my hands, brushing hair away from my face, and standing close like he was marking territory. I didn’t think much of it until a friend said, “It seems like he likes you.” Maybe that’s what being single for too long does; you stop seeing men as men and start seeing them as trees in the background.

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

After that, I started noticing things. He would check in constantly, sending messages like “Just texting to see how you’re doing” or “Hi, I wanted to know how your day’s going.” During one of those usual check-ins, I told him my dad had just turned 80 and that I would be travelling for the birthday celebration. My flight was the next day. He asked if we could meet casually before I left, and I agreed.

That evening was something else. Emotions were flying everywhere, like we had both been holding back for too long. We talked about my job, how I had left it, and how the decision was weighing on me. He listened like he cared. Like he understood. The night was short, quiet, and blissful.

After that, we started talking endlessly. Every day, it was something new, and I didn’t mind. He even started talking about marriage, boldly and without asking if I was engaged or taken. So I did what any woman would do: I started checking him out. I asked around about his family and his friends, and that’s when I found out he had someone else. I dug deeper and learnt that she had been there long before me. And the worst part was that she wasn’t just anyone. She was a friend, a fellow church member, and someone who holds me in high esteem. I was confused. I kept asking myself how a man could love two women at the same time.

I was away for more than two months. I had completed everything I set out to do and came back hoping for clarity. He picked me up from the airport, smiling like nothing had changed and acting all lovey-dovey as if he hadn’t been playing games behind my back. He held my hand, asked about my trip, and behaved like the man I thought I was getting to know.

We went out one evening, and I asked him if he had anything to say to me. He said no. I asked again, “Is there something you need to tell me, something that would hurt if I heard it from someone else?”

You would think that would give him a clue that I knew something, but he kept acting innocent. So I asked him directly about her. At first, he denied it. Then he went quiet. He said his mind had told him I already knew. Then he said, “You know we’re not official, right?” And finally, “I love you more than her.”

I sat across from him, confused. I looked at him and said, “I know my value, and I can’t be numbered.” I walked away angry, but I didn’t shout or cause drama. I left with grace and moved to another state.

Is Bride Price Still Relevant in Modern Marriages?

The man who once claimed I was first on the list of women he loved got engaged to the woman he said he loved less that same month and married her that same year. I knew about the wedding, but neither of them told me, and I didn’t ask.

Now, he sends me countless messages every day. If I don’t reply, he calls. And I sit here wondering what I am supposed to do with someone who chose someone else but still wants access to me. Should I report him to his wife? Or should I simply block him and move on?

—Bernice

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.

#SB<>