It’s a long-distance relationship, but I see her often—twice a month or even more. One night, while I was with her, she told me she hadn’t seen her period. That same night, we got some test kits and tested in the morning. She was pregnant. We couldn’t step out that day. We stayed in and brainstormed our next steps.

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She wanted to let it go if I wasn’t ready to take up the responsibility. I said no. It happened when we didn’t expect it, but there was something we could do. We agreed that I would perform the knocking rite later, after the child was born.

I wasn’t doing it just because of the child. I loved her and was ready to marry her. We were planning to wait for a year, but unfortunately, we had to rush because of the situation.

After the knocking rite, I started travelling down to see her every weekend. I was happy for us, grateful that we could calm the storm and keep our relationship intact.

One afternoon, I met an old friend in town, and my girlfriend’s name came up in our conversation. He asked me, “Oh, so you’re finally the one she gave the pregnancy to?”

The question didn’t sit well with me, but he wasn’t ready to elaborate. He told me it was just a question. I felt it came out accidentally, but it seemed to hint at something deeper.

That night, I went through her phone—the first time I’ve ever done that to a woman I’m dating. I typed “pregnant,” and messages with that word started popping up. Of course, my name came up too because we had chatted about it. But two other numbers also appeared. They didn’t have names saved. She had tried to involve those two guys in the pregnancy.

It turned into a fight because both men denied it. One did the math and said the timeline didn’t match, but he was still willing to give her money to “get rid of it.” The other guy laughed at her, thinking it was a joke. He went with her to the hospital for a test, and it was confirmed. He said, “This can’t be me because the last time we were together, I used a condom.”

They argued about the probability of how it happened, but it seemed like they continued the conversation over a phone call, so the messages were inconclusive. However, it looked like the guy gave her money to flash it, but she didn’t go through with it because I had accepted responsibility.

My heart, my soul, my being—everything in me broke at that moment. I was shaking. My spirit felt crushed. It felt like too much to bear. I wasn’t violent or harsh when I asked her to tell me the truth. At first, she said she was just scaring those guys. Later, she admitted, “Yes, I had something to do with them, but you’re the true father of the baby. I was only teasing them.”

I thanked her for the truth and left. Later, when I calmed down, I called her mom and told her everything. Her dad called for clarification, and I told him, “I’m not denying the pregnancy. It could be mine, so I’ll wait until she delivers. If it’s mine, I’ll still stay for the child, but the marriage won’t happen.”

Her dad didn’t say much, but her mom kept asking for forgiveness. She told me she had prayed about it and believed the child was mine, so I should forgive and continue with the marriage because people make mistakes.

She Invited All My Friends To The Wedding Except Me

The marriage won’t happen, no matter what. But for now, I’m treating it as if she’s carrying my child. I send her money, visit when I can, send groceries, pay her hospital bills, and buy her medications. I’m doing all of this because she isn’t a bad person. She cheated, and that’s something I can’t forgive or live with.

—Baffour

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