Just around the time Sandra and I were planning our marriage, her mother died. She was devastated because all her life, the only parent she had ever known was her mom. She cried like a baby. I didn’t know how to cry, but the very day she announced the death of her mother to me, I cried on the phone with her because of how she was crying.

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It would have been very insensitive of me to continue talking about marriage plans, so I put everything on hold and decided to be by her side and mourn with her. I was at her beck and call. For the past two years we had been dating, I’d never seen her so reliant on me like that. She was even scared to sleep alone in the first few days after her mother died. I was at her place constantly, cooking for her, forcing her to eat, and reminding her to take her bath.

It was tough for her, and because I loved her, it was tough for me too. At some point, I was scared she would be suicidal, so I stayed close, asking what she wanted so I could do it for her. It got to a point where she withdrew from me. Even when she was with me, she didn’t say much. She was either on her phone or sleeping.

One day she said she wanted to go somewhere for a few days to clear her head. I asked where she wanted to go, but she didn’t have any place in mind. I suggested places I thought could help her connect with nature and find herself again. I was doing all that thinking I would be going with her. Finally, she told me she wanted to go there alone and properly mourn everything she had lost.

I gave her money after booking the place for her. I’m not rich. Sometimes it was hard, but when it came to her, I did my very best.

She left on Tuesday. The plan was to spend a few days with her extended family and later continue to the venue I booked for her. I was on the phone with her on Tuesday while she was on her way there. She got there and said she would call me later, but that call never came until I called her early Wednesday morning. She missed the call but called later in the afternoon, saying she had been busy.

I was patient enough not to let her feel pressured. She was fragile, and a little bit of load could break her down. On Thursday, she told me she was leaving for the place I booked for her. That wasn’t the plan. She was supposed to go there on Friday and leave the following Sunday, but she later told me she was going on Thursday and would leave on Monday instead.

Our calls became inconsistent once she was there. I was the one troubled. Whenever she missed my call, a lot of thoughts rushed through my head. What if something bad happened to her? What if she’s going through a lot and needs a hand?

So on Saturday, after I hadn’t heard from her all Friday, I decided to go to the place I booked and surprise her. Yes, she said she wanted to be alone, but I thought a surprise visit could lift her mood and add to the flavor of her stay.

I set off early in the morning and was there around 11 a.m. I called her phone, but she didn’t answer. I asked for the location of her room number and was directed there. I had my hands full. I bought her favorite drink and other groceries she loved to snack on. I knocked on the door, and a man’s voice responded. I thought I had made a mistake. I was going back to the reception when he opened the door and I saw his face.

That was the face of my girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend—the one she left months before I met her. She spoke so ill about him that I had to find his Facebook profile to look at the kind of person he was. So I knew his face. I had seen photos where the two of them were together. He didn’t know me, so he asked what I was looking for. I said, “I came for Sandra.” He even thought I was a delivery guy. Eii.

Sandra came to see my face and screamed, “Sh!t,” and turned to walk back inside the room. I held her hand. I was shaking then. If I didn’t hold her hand, I would have fallen down. “Sandra, was that the plan all along? And you still looked in the face of God and made me pay for this?”

We didn’t explain anything to her ex, but he heard the conversation and knew where it was going. He went inside, leaving the two of us to deal with each other. My first thought was to hit her with something. The second was to pull her outside naked for all to see her cheating self. The next thought was to shout and make a scene. Within a few seconds, tens of thoughts flashed through my mind, and they were all diabolical. I chose peace instead and walked away, disoriented and crying. I thought I was going to crack and fall apart. The pain was too much.

I was typing our breakup text while on my way back. I wrote a whole book of lamentations and later said she wasn’t worth the struggle, so I deleted everything. I was waiting for her call to explain what had just happened. I was waiting for her to call and say sorry and tell me it was the doing of the devil. Her text came later in the night telling me she had left the resort for her family house and that it was sorrow that pushed her back to her ex. “He had a great friendship with my mom, and he used that to get back with me,” she wrote.

Later in the night she texted again, “I know you’ll never forgive me, and that’s fine, but please don’t hurt me. I’m even scared as I write this. I walk around looking over my shoulders. Please don’t hurt me.”

I attended her mother’s funeral when it was time because that woman respected me a lot and was the one advising us to marry as soon as possible so we could make babies for her. At her grave, I uttered these words: “Your daughter didn’t let it happen. I’m sorry. And it pains me so much you died before this happened. You should have seen how devilish your daughter can be.”

I Left Him Because He Didn’t Help In The Kitchen

This still holds as my deepest heartbreak, and I haven’t been able to heal completely. I still think about her and get angry all over again. I ask myself, “Why didn’t you slap her and pull her out? Why didn’t you embarrass her for embarrassing your heart?”

It’s all in the past now, and I’m at least happy that I didn’t do any of that.

—Atakora

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