If you haven’t read the first part of this story, here’s the link. Kindly read it before starting this one.

When my story was posted, I read almost every comment left under the story. Some made me smile, some made me feel like I was terrible for refusing to decide to keep my peace, as if men aren’t always preaching about marrying peaceful women. So, what was now wrong was that I was being one? Well, before my story was published, a lot was happening, and now that we are somewhere, I thought to bring you an update.

For two good months, I refused to give him any attention. I didn’t want to hear the sob story and the part where he blamed the devil. I was just mothering my children and minding my business. He stopped going to work. He said he had taken an emergency leave for two weeks, with the intention to quench the fire at home. He also said that since I was refusing to pay any heed, it was affecting him mentally, and he feared he could hurt himself with the overthinking or run into an accident. So he was talking about taking a pause.

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Again, I was still minding my business. Once in a while, I would hear him over the phone trying to calm his lion of a girlfriend. That man was visibly shrunken. Every time my hands moved to his shoulders to soothe him, to give him a hug, the memory of betrayal stopped my hands from moving.

It all went down when I received a call from the hospital that my husband had been admitted. His blood pressure was up the roof. I rushed there to see him lying there, his eyes closed. Honestly, it had been so long since I took a very long look at him. Him lying there gave me the chance. He looked as if he was ready to die. Lean. His ribs were visible, his neck bones were dry, even his under-eyes had lost the joy.

I called his mother to come and take over while I rushed back to work. He was on admission for five good days. The doctors refused to discharge him until his pressure was stable. Every morning, I would prepare food and send it over to him. In the evenings too, when time permitted me, I would sit by the bedside, watching the nurses move about. There was nothing to talk about.

The doctor who was attending to him was a good friend of his. He called me to his office one of the days to beg for his friend. He said my husband narrated the story to him in tears, and that he was clearly seeing that it was taking a toll on him.

“Your husband is a hard man, but see how you have reduced him to nothing. Forgive him.”

I said, “I am trying my best. I am getting there.”

When he was discharged, he wasn’t still looking too good, but again, what did I care? I turned blind and deaf to his existence.

His parents visited one evening and didn’t return home. They came knocking at our door at dawn, 1:00 a.m., asking to see us.

My father-in-law started, “Our son here has come to confess his sins to us, and that is why we are here to ask you to forgive him. We know he has sinned.”

He then proceeded to play a recording between him and his son, from the time he told him the truth to the way he handled it. It was full of unprintable insults. The man even called his son a goat.

I was even scolded at some point, saying I should have reported him. After scolding me, they went right back to their son.

They asked, “Does she starve you sexually? Does she not feed you? Does she disrespect your authority?”

He shook his head. “So why?” He replied that it was the devil’s doing. His father nearly slapped him when he said that.

“Did the devil show you where to find the hole?”

I have made a decision. After what I witnessed, I want to forgive him. A lot of things unfolded in that meeting. My father sent me 1,000 cedis during the meeting. “Use it to cool your heart for now. You have shown me that you can tame a lion.” He even said that I should expect a goat soon.

Both of my in-laws went down on their knees to ask me to reconsider and put it in the past, that it would never happen again. I quickly had to drop to my knees too and beg them to get up. At a point, I even felt a pinch of pity for my husband. He was in the corner crying his eyes out. His eyes had turned red, and his nose was waaa-tery.

I am doing this because of my father-in-law. That man is the best father-in-law one could ask for. The way this man takes care of my children, words cannot quantify it. He even bought them a car to send them to school. I can never give deaf ears to his pleas.

I gave him my word to let go of everything I am harbouring in me, so I will do just that. He has honoured me, I will return it.

As much as I am walking on the road to forgive him, I am not letting myself go. I am still maintaining that he goes for a medical check-up for any STI before he comes close to me. That or nothing.

Well, since then, you can now see a ray of sunshine on Opana’s face small. He has started eating and breathing again.

Who Would You Choose, A Rich Man Or A Man Who’s Good In Bed?

As for him and his side chick, I have told him I don’t want to hear anything about them in my house. They should solve their issues 10,000 kilometres away from my house. He should do well to take care of her and the pregnancy, because hunger in pregnancy can make a woman do the unthinkable.

Most importantly, he understands that I am not going to continue to support the house anymore since he is now a polygamist.

— Vashti
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