He proposed to me with his ring boldly wrapped around his finger. While he was going on and on about how he loved me and wanted me to be his girlfriend, I was busily thinking about the audacity that would push a man to propose to his wife’s friend. I looked up his face when he finished talking and said, “I can’t do that to my friend. How would I act around her while sleeping with her husband? That’s wild.”

He persisted. He went on talking about how it wouldn’t hurt his wife if his wife didn’t know about it. He was determined to have me say yes. I asked him, “What do I have that Francine doesn’t have? Tell me, I will find a nice way to tell her so she gets that for you.”

“Think about it,” he said. What you don’t know can’t hurt you. We can’t hurt her if she doesn’t know about it.”

I responded, “There’s nothing to think about. It might not hurt her but my guilt whenever I see her would hurt me instead. I can’t act sane around her. I would be a murderer if I ever think of doing that to someone I call a friend.”

He sent me lunch when I was at work. He would call and ask me, “I hope you enjoyed the lunch?” I would respond, “You’re a smooth man. No wonder Francine is dying for you.”

I always sought to bring her wife’s name in our conversations to put him off but he never stopped coming. I should have cut him off completely but I didn’t. I kept him around for so long until he started making an impact on my mind. He was way too kind. It wasn’t only about me but even his wife always told me about his kindness. “My husband will give you his last and sleep on an empty stomach,” she often told me. It was the same kindness that got to me.

He called one Saturday and asked how much my school fees was. When I told him he paid. He sent a message, “When you love someone, you do the heavy lifting for them. I hope you know I love you.” I responded, “Thanks very much but I know you love Francine more. If she wasn’t there, it would have been easier.”

It became a cat-and-mouse story. The Tom and Jerry kind. I knew he was danger but I trusted my intuition that he wouldn’t get me. So wherever he invited me, I went with him. He took me on several dates, he brought me back home while ringing the bell of love for me. I said no. “I’m happy being friends with you. That’s the only sin I will commit for you.”

When he tried for several months and I wasn’t giving in he stopped pursuing me. Once in a while, he sent a message. When I responded he took my mind back to the love he had for me. I made a joke about it. I was the only one laughing while he kept insisting that I wasn’t kind to him.

My mom fell seriously sick. I was visiting her every weekend, spending every pesewa I had on her. Francine might have mentioned it to him so he called me one evening asking about my mom. I was at my lowest ebb in everything; emotional, financial, psychological. I wanted to cry when he called but I held back the tears. He said, “I will send you something tomorrow to help.”

He did without me calling to remind him. For the first time in our conversation, he didn’t talk about love for me. He knew the place I was. I appreciated that very much. Along the line, he brought back the proposal. I was a little bit harsh in my response; “Of all the troubles I’m going through, is that what you still think about? What do you want me for, sex? Doesn’t Francine give you that?”

He didn’t say a word. I regretted my response immediately so I apologized. He answered, “No problem. I’m fine.”

I called the next morning just to be sure he was fine. I texted often just to get to his good side. I was doing everything to compensate for the rudeness.

Somewhere along the line, disaster struck. The Cedi depreciated against the Pound so much that my fees became a mountain to climb. There were three courses I needed to register but I didn’t have the money. I’d used all my money on my mom. I looked for a loan. Everyone promised they were going to give it to me but at the eleventh hour, they disappointed me. Two days before the end of registration, I called him, “I need your help urgently.”

I told him everything and told him I wouldn’t mind if he gave it to me as a loan. He asked me to meet him the next day. I said, “That would be the final day. Just send me the money and I will meet you afterwards.”

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He didn’t send the money until I met him after work the next day. He asked me, “How much did you say you needed?” I mentioned the amount. He picked up his phone and asked me to get closer. He opened his bank app and started the transfer process. Just when I was about to mention my account number he said, “Just wait, I’m coming.”

He inserted an account number himself and said, “This is Francine’s account number. I want to show you something.”

He pressed “Send” and the money went to Francine. He whispered under his breath, “Just wait and see.”

Minutes later, Francine called. He put the call on a loudspeaker. Francine asked, “You sent me money. What’s that for?” He answered, “I thought I should surprise you. Just buy something for yourself.” “All this amount for me to buy something? Where are you? Are you dying?”

When he insisted it was a gift, Francine screamed. You could hear her jumping, “Thank you! Why don’t you do this often? Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

When he hung up the call he said, “She’s your friend. You won’t hurt her but you’ve been taking her happiness away anytime I give you something. I hope you understand what I’m doing here. Is not only sex that hurts. Do you think if she finds out I give you money and take you to places she won’t be hurt? She doesn’t know so it doesn’t hurt her.”

He didn’t give me the money even when I begged him. I sent him a text around 9pm. “Please, I have up to midnight to register. Don’t do this to me. You’re my last hope, pleeeeeeease.” His response was, “Do you think if Francine sees me texting you at this hour she won’t be hurt? Why are you doing this to your friend?”

I couldn’t register. I had to defer the course. It broke me to pieces but what he did to me broke me more. How could he? To rub salt in my injury, Francine called me in the morning. She was ecstatic, you could hear from her voice. She said, “Guess what my husband did yesterday…”

I couldn’t be genuinely happy for her because her happiness came at my expense.

I got the lesson he was trying to teach me. He chose the wrong time to teach me but how could I have learned if the time wasn’t that wrong? If you don’t like a married man, you don’t have to like his things. If your reason is not to hurt his wife, then stay away completely from him because cheating is not only about sex. All the attention, all the places he takes you to, all the money he gives you could have been invested in his marriage to make it a happy one.

I learned. We don’t talk anymore but anytime I see a married man around me, I remember what my friend’s husband did to me. I won the moral fight for not allowing him to sleep with me but he won the battle. He hit me where it hurts. It’s the reason I would wake up at dawn and write this story.  

—Gladys

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