I’m not a cheat. All my life as a young man, I never cheated on any woman I dated. Once I’m dating you, you’re the only one I’m dating until the relationship collapses. No side pieces, no other woman I talk to, not even a woman who is a friend. I give my all and my commitment to the relationship until it dies.

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I have this strength: once it dies, I move on quickly. No hurtful feelings. No heartbreak. I wouldn’t sit in a corner and mourn a dead relationship, knowing very well that I gave it my all. The next day, I’m in another relationship.

I dated my wife for three years before we got married. She was the one who delayed. I was ready once the relationship was only a year old, but she told me to take my time. She said I should give her time to smoothen the edges of her life before taking that step. I agreed. I waited for her until everything was smooth. We married when she was twenty-six and I was twenty-eight.

We’ve been married for six years with two children I adore more than anything else. Our marriage has been peaceful for the most part. We don’t fight often, and when we do, we fight fair. She knows her role in the marriage, and I also know my role. We don’t overstep our boundaries. We don’t promise what we can’t give. We love, obey, and see what the sunshine will bring the next day.

All that changed when Matilda came into the picture. I teased her that she looked like my wife because a part of her resembled the woman I married. She joked, “Then I’m your second wife. Marry me.”

I called her “wifee,” and she called me “husbee.” It was harmless—just a game two friends played until, along the line, feelings developed. I didn’t know what it meant, so I tried to hush it. She came forward more often than you would expect from a woman in love. I called her bold for telling me how she felt about me. I said, “I feel the same way too, but I’m married. It wouldn’t be fair to you or me to go all the way with this temporal feeling.”

She didn’t listen to me, and I also didn’t listen to myself. My head was sane and knew what was happening and was ready to avoid a mistake, but my heart wouldn’t listen. That was how I ended up in her room, on her bed, and then in her arms one hot afternoon. We bathed ourselves with sweat and wiped it with emotions. We went all the way into the deep trenches of carnality.

I was a little tired, so I might have fallen asleep for a while. I woke up, dressed up, and said goodbye, knowing that this first time was the last time. Guilt was killing me, especially when my wife met me at the doorway and asked why I was looking like that.

“I’m looking like what?”
“I don’t know, but you’re not looking like yourself.”
“Then you’re not looking at me well. I’m me.”

It ended there, but the internal battles went on for days. Then Matilda called and asked when I was coming again. She said she missed me and showed me photos she took of me when I was tired and resting naked on her bed. It was a selfie, so her face showed, and she was smiling at my sleepy body.

I got embarrassed, but I played calm. I told her I would come when I got the time. A month later, I was doing everything to cut her off through ghosting and promises, and I failed. She got the point and became angry. She said, “Do you think I will allow you to take me for a fool? You made me fall for you and now you want to disappear? Nooo, that won’t work, especially when we’ve been intimate. Let’s continue.”

I begged her, “For the sake and sanity of my marriage, this can’t go on. I beg you.”
She responded, “You didn’t know your marriage deserved sanity when you were here going up and down with your waist? No, it won’t happen. I’m not that girl.”

Eventually, we agreed on an amount to push her off. She asked for GHC5,000. I said I could pay GHC2,000. We later settled at GHC3,000. I paid in three installments. I had to meet her in person to give her the money. On the third installment, in her room, it happened again. She said it was goodbye sex. Because I was in her trap, I did it just to get her off my neck.

She didn’t leave. She’s still on my neck. Her demands are simple but devilish: “Let’s continue being together, or you pay.” I’ve already paid GHC3,000, and that money came from a lot of sacrifices and sweat. When I don’t see her or send her money, she threatens to tell my wife what has happened between us and get the money from my wife instead. How does that make sense?

If my wife gets to know I’ve ever smelled the air around another woman, our marriage is over. I know that for a fact. Matilda knows where my wife works because it’s a popular public place. When you walk into that office, she’s the first person you’ll meet, so it’s easy to find her. I told Matilda, “You try anything stupid, and I will give you to the police.”
She responded, “Try and see who will suffer.”

She’s right. I’m the one who will suffer. If I involve the police, the issue will escalate to a point where my wife will find out, and my marriage will be over. Matilda surprises me. She never came across as someone who would do this. She’s very beautiful and calm—until I got involved. It makes me angry every day when I think about it. It affects my demeanor in the house. Sometimes I go overly quiet until my wife asks what’s happening.

Thriving In A Relationship When The Man Doesn’t Have Money

I’ve played it cool, and I’ve played it hot. None worked. What do I do again to get Matilda off my neck? I don’t have money to throw around. The police will only escalate the situation, and I’m not ready to do it again with her. Where do I go from here? Please don’t judge me. I’m a falling man. Give me a hand—let me be on my feet and walk again.

—Bright

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