Isaac and I dated for two good years before we walked down the aisle. I lost my job at the beginning of the year, and it was terribly hard for me. I have been working for as long as I can remember, and I didn’t want to entirely depend on someone for the little things, so with some funds, I started a cold store business, which was doing well, to my amazement. I was back to feeling like the woman that I am—married, rich in my own sense, and terribly happy.

Until April of this year, when the land on which my husband’s shop was working was taken from him. He has been home since then. In the mornings, he, too, will wake up and go in search of a place where he can perch and work with someone else, but every evening, he comes back with a sad and sweaty face.

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I am heavily pregnant and will be due soon. Sometimes, we depend on friends and family. The pregnancy has been taking a toll on me, so I haven’t really gotten around to selling the fish. But we can’t always depend on family and friends’ funds to live our lives. A day is coming when they will be fed up and start running away when they see our calls. But there was nothing we could do. Like I said, the pregnancy is hard, and almost every week, I have to be at the hospital for a check-up.

Some days ago, my husband said he had something to say. He confessed to having another lady on the side who has been supporting him financially.

“She is aware that I am married, and she has no problem with it, so I am telling you so that you also accept it.”

It turns out that the money he has been giving me to support the running of the household has always been from her. He would wake up, leave the house with his shirt hanging over his shoulders, go to her house, and come back with the money. The food we eat, the baby clothes, the maternity wear I buy at the hospital, and the mosquito spray I bought the last time – all of it is from her. My husband wants me to accept this deal, conceal it in my cloth, and never speak of it.

I expressed my feelings and said I hated whatever deal this was and that it was not the life I imagined for myself when I got married to him. His side chick sponsoring our household? What does he take me for? A fool?

I was like, “That will not be my portion.” He asked me if I wanted poverty to be my portion for the rest of my life. I answered, “I know God will change things around for us, for me. Let’s hope this is not how we started and this will not be the story. It is just a storm.”

No matter how I presented my motives and pleas, he didn’t reason with them. We really fought about it. He receives and makes calls in front of me, but in hiding, I can hear it from the kitchen when I am in the bedroom sometimes. He thinks he is being sneaky. He isn’t. He thinks that I will make a scene for the lady to know I’m not in support of their relationship.

I have been crying since I found out. He doesn’t want to leave the lady because of the benefits he is getting. Even worse is when I plead with him to stop and think if it is reasonable to be sleeping around when people are up and about carrying sickness around. He doesn’t care.

But I can clearly see he has made up his mind, so nothing is going to stop him.

I am hurt, heartbroken. This is not the kind of life I imagined for myself when I was getting married. I knew I was going to face trials, but this one cuts the cake for me because how is it that I am to accept that my husband is sleeping with some woman for money for livelihood? I am nurturing a child, and I fear this overthinking and fear will affect the baby.

Is There A Man Out There Who Doesn’t Cheat?

Even some days ago, he tried to coerce me to speak to the lady so that she confirms that I have no problem with it. He wants us to be friends. Wife and side chick.

He is inviting the lady to come over to our house so she will do laundry and cooking, using my condition as an excuse, but I know he can help around the house by himself. His side chick doesn’t need to come over to our matrimonial home. How do I end all of this torture? I want some peace and quiet. My head is on fire.

— Agartha

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