All I wanted was a job from her when we met. She said she would do everything to get me hired. She would call in the morning and ask me to come to her office, and I would go as quickly as I could, thinking I was going to get a job. I would sit in her office and we would talk about everything I wanted to do with my life, and later in the evening she would thank me for keeping her company.

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She would give me money and tell me she was still working on my CV and I would soon see the results. I trusted her so much that even when I hadn’t seen any positive results in months, I kept going to see her, keeping her company and making her laugh.

She was in her fifties. I was in my late twenties. By the time I realized it, I was the one escorting her to meetings and waiting for her outside while she was in the meeting. After meetings, we would sit somewhere and eat and she would later give me money.

This is a woman who could snap a finger and I would get a job, but she kept me close to her for conversations and little errands.

She asked me if I would like to travel to Nigeria with her and I said, “Why not? I’ve never been anywhere outside Ghana.”

We got to Nigeria, entered a hotel, and we both landed in the same room. She told me, “It’s a very, very expensive hotel, so I couldn’t afford another room for you. Let’s share this room. We can pretend we are a couple.”

Her legs would end up on me at night while she slept. I would slowly wiggle my way out and she would place them back there a few minutes later. She asked, “Are my legs too heavy? Why are you acting like a boy?”

And because I wasn’t a boy, I started doing things men do with women like her. We spent five days in Nigeria and not a single day passed without us getting intimate. She wanted it every hour, even when I was down panting for breath. She said she hadn’t done it in years and thanked me after every round. Before we left Nigeria, she told me she didn’t want to lose me so she would find a job very close to her and push me into it.

In my mind, once I got a job and I was making my own money, I could have a say in our relationship. She wouldn’t call me early Sunday morning and ask me to go jogging with her and I would oblige. I could tell her I was tired from work and wanted to relax for the coming week.

She is very beautiful at her age. She knows how to dress well and you wouldn’t know she had four children in her previous marriage. She checks her weight the way white people check the weather. She eats well and treats herself well.

She got me a job that didn’t pay very well. Our offices were not far apart so she would bring me lunch and take me home when the office closed, or she would keep me in her office until late at night so we could do it in her office, something she always prayed for.

It got to a time I realized she wasn’t trying to hide me like she used to. She would hold hands with me. I was the one desperate to hide because I didn’t know how to explain our relationship to others. One day she asked me, “If the world didn’t judge our kind of relationship, would you be comfortable marrying me?”

Without thinking twice, I answered, “I wouldn’t have any problem, but I would like to work for my own money so I can take care of you.”

She liked my answer so much she bought an Apple Watch for me a few days later. We would go jogging and she would want to run right next to me and sometimes pretend she was tired so I could hold her while she relaxed on my shoulder.

When the relationship was about three years old, she suggested we should travel abroad. That day was the happiest day of my life. She seemed to have everything figured out—where we would stay, where she would work, and where I would also work. Everything sounded fancy until she asked if I was willing to have a child with her.

“You have four grown kids. Why would you want another?” I asked.

She answered, “Those are for my ex-husband. He took them and they love him more than me. I want something with you. Something we can call our own.”

In my head, I was like, “Does this woman realize that I’m just half her age and I would also like to have a beginning to life the way she had?”

I still agreed I would have a child with her if only her situation could allow it. She told me we were traveling to a land of possibilities and that once we got there, everything could be achieved, including having a child at her age.

So she started the process. I didn’t do much. She would only call and ask me to bring this or that and I would. Everything was going smoothly. We even had a date to travel out. But then she said we should get married here before we leave.

“How? You know this place won’t give us the peace to do it. Why don’t we get there first?”

Again she had everything figured out. “We’ll just do it in court. Something very small. I understand if your family doesn’t come, but we can still get people to represent them and do it. I want us to do things right before we get there.”

She’s a good woman. She hasn’t done anything wrong since we started this relationship. If anything, she has been the best thing that has happened to me in the last few years. I know she deserves the truth but once the truth is out, I know I will lose everything, including her. I can love her like this, just the way we are, but marriage should be out of the equation.

Especially when it has to be legal. The friend I confided in told me I should play along until I get there. “Don’t people get divorced every day?” he asked me. “Get there, find your feet and work out the rest.”

I can do that to anyone but not to this woman. I’m a man but I have a heart and conscience. She’s giving her all and I’m also giving my all in this situation we find ourselves in. I love her. I really do because no one has taken care of me the way she has.

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Leaving Ghana with me means she’s throwing everything away just to begin again with me in a different country. I would be very wicked to lead her on and leave her in the lurch. What I have now is the best I could get. But how do I tell her the truth and still keep what she has to give?

Or should I listen to my friend and get there first to show her pepper? Some days, my heart says yes to my friend, but my head shakes in disagreement. It’s currently a battle between the head and the heart. It’s hard to begin again from scratch without her, so what do you suggest I do?

—Fynn

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