I cheated, and she caught me. No amount of “sorry” would suffice, but I think I’ve tried my best. I’ve said it all and done it all to show that it wouldn’t happen again. She reported me to my parents. My dad called to advise me. My mom called to tell me her mind: “Kojo, this is not how we raised you. Where did you pick this up?”

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

Along the way, life changes us. We don’t necessarily forget how we were raised, but we are tempted to try different things. Maybe we do it just to experiment with the freedom that we have. Some call it risk. When it’s successful, when the outcome is good, you may want to try it again. The outcome of my cheating was so terrible that I looked at myself in the mirror and asked, “What have you done?”

I nearly lost my marriage—a terrible consequence of cheating and deceit. I lost the respect my parents had for me—another terrible result. Whoever heard about the incident might have a changed opinion of me. So I came to a place where I could only go on my knees and beg my wife for forgiveness. I did. I said it in different languages. I don’t speak sign language, but I might have made some gestures that said, “I regret my actions.”

She told me, “I’ve forgiven you, but it will take some time for me to let go of the hurt and anger.” I understood perfectly. So I responded, “We have time. We’re not going anywhere. Take all the time you need to heal.”

Yeah, I said that, but I didn’t think she would take forever to heal. I’m not blaming her for the pace of her healing, but I wish she could speed things up a little. It’s been close to a year. May will mark exactly one year since my wife caught me cheating. A whole calendar year, and my wife still hasn’t allowed me to touch her. When I say touch, I mean it in every sense of the word.

She sleeps in the hall or asks me to sleep there because she doesn’t want our skin to touch. We used to share the three-seater couch when all was well. Since May, she’s been using the single-seater, watching me struggle to find comfort on the three-seater couch.

She talks to me when she wants to. She tells me little about her life. She goes out and comes in as she pleases. Yeah, she cooks, but she no longer serves me. She does laundry and leaves mine on the sofa for me to fold myself. None of these things bother me as much as the fact that she has taken sex off the menu of our marriage.

When I complain—healing. When I ask questions—healing. When I nag—healing. She tells me, “You can’t hurt me this deeply and still tell me how to heal. External sores are easy to treat because there are medicines for them, but the sore you develop in the heart—the one that’s constantly beating—can’t be treated easily.”

I retreat into my shell and hope things will change as soon as possible, but no. We had a fight not long ago. I was frustrated that my wife would enter the bathroom, shut the door, and come out with a towel covering her body. She would dress in front of me as if I were an intruder. So I brought it up, and it turned into a fight.

She told me, “Or have you forgotten your way? Don’t you know where to get it again?”

It’s been almost a year. I didn’t come home with a child. It’s not my fifteenth time being caught cheating. This is my first time, and I confessed everything—that it was my first time cheating since we got married two years ago (it was two when she caught me, but now we’re in our third year). Even when we were dating, I didn’t cheat. She knows this, but sometimes, the grass on the other side tempts you to inspect what makes it greener. I did, and I got caught, and now I can’t even touch my wife, let alone see the hairs on her ‘distin.’

I have no intention of going down that road again. It’s a step too far, but don’t you think my wife is overdoing this healing thing? Can’t she heal while giving me what would make me feel at home? Should it take a year? Sometimes, she makes me feel like she’s left the marriage but is waiting for the right time to tell me. It’s funny but true. The last time I told her, “Or are you waiting for a year so you can use it as a reason for divorce?”

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

At this point, nothing makes sense to me, to be honest. Or maybe I’m the one who’s not making sense? I’ve gone through all the phases of regret and reconciliation, but I still can’t have intimacy because Madam says she’s still bleeding from the cut I gave her. No, my wife is simply wicked. I’ve said it.

—Kojo

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.

*****