When her parents wanted to give her to another man, she told me about it. I was concerned that I was going to lose her because I didn’t have the resources for marriage, but she assured me not to worry. As days went by, the pressure from her parents intensified. When the man came from abroad to see her for the first time, she told me about it. I knew I was losing her, but Jennifer kept telling me not to worry.

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I would call at night, and the call would be on hold. Several minutes later, I would call again, and it would still be on hold. Later, she would call back and tell me, “It’s your man, ooo. That guy doesn’t want my phone to rest.” So I asked her, “What’s going on? Do you like him or not? And if not, why are you entertaining him?” She told me she was only showing him respect for her parents’ sake.

A few weeks later, Jennifer and this man took a trip together. They spent the weekend visiting the man’s family. She told me about it and still told me not to worry because I was the one she wanted. She claimed she was doing all that just to pass the time. I’m not a child. I knew what a spade looked like, and what I was seeing was a giant spade, but she kept telling me to see it as a big spoon.

Finally, the man traveled back abroad, and our relationship emerged from the comatose state it was in. While she was with me, I could feel that nothing was the same. When something is taken out of love, you may not see it, but you can feel it. I asked her, “You accepted his proposal, right?” She answered, “While I’m with you? God forbid.”

On her twenty-seventh birthday, she had a grand celebration. Looking at the cost and everything that went into it, I knew someone else had sponsored it because she couldn’t afford it. She later mentioned that it was the man from abroad who had funded everything. Again, I asked, “He sponsored everything, and you still tell me nothing is going on?”

I don’t know why I believed everything she told me when something inside me kept telling me she was lying. Jennifer started talking about weddings with her close friends while she was still with me. One of them told me. At first, she denied it, but when she went to take measurements for a wedding dress with the same friend, and I found out about it, she couldn’t deny it this time. She told me, “The pressure was too much. I had to accept, but I didn’t know how to tell you because I love you that much.”

I accepted defeat and started withdrawing from her life. The fact that my heart didn’t break or that I didn’t experience any heartache told me I had been expecting the breakup and that my heart was prepared for it. When I withdrew, she didn’t chase me. When I stopped calling, she didn’t call. When I stopped responding to her texts, the conversation ended there. No closure, nothing.

The man returned from abroad, and they got married. I saw everything online. I watched photos and snippets from mutual friends’ status updates. I have to be honest; that day, my heart broke into pieces. I thought about everything we had been through—the fun, the joy—and the fact that we didn’t come to an end because of a fight or misunderstanding but because another man had entered the picture made the emotions raw for me.

A month after the wedding, I saw her call on my phone. I quickly picked up as if I had been expecting her call. She asked, “So, don’t you miss me?” I responded, “Is that the reason you called? To ask if I don’t miss you?” She replied, “I’m calling you because I miss you, or I can’t say I miss you again.”

We talked a lot. It happened every day as if the two of us were still together, except this time we were doing it secretly. The man had gone back abroad and was working on her documents so she could join him. She told me all about that. One night, we met at our usual place. She said she wanted to officially apologize to me, but I went there because I missed her and wanted to see what marriage had turned her into.

That night, we kissed. She said it was a goodbye kiss. I did it scared, knowing she was another man’s wife. I wanted her, but my conscience kept telling me no. When we got to our respective homes, she texted, “So why didn’t you do anything or ask me to go home with you? We could have had the final showdown too.” I responded, “There’s time. We can do it another time.”

She wants it, and I want it too. The only thing stopping me is my moral compass and the little voice in my head that only gets louder whenever I think of going for it one last time. Somehow, I’m hurt by the way she treated me. At the same time, I’m happy she’s available and still wants us to continue because, according to her, I’m the one she really wants. We’ve planned and failed on several occasions. Finally, we decided we would do it on the eve of her departure. That would signify the true end of our affair.

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

I know this is not a good thing, but the heart wants what it wants. I know writing this here will get a lot of responses, and these responses may help strengthen my resolve. I’ve tried, but I need to do more. This is the cat-and-mouse story. I can get the mouse if I try, but then I listen to my conscience and let things go. Let’s see how this ends. Hopefully, the good in me wins; otherwise…

—Bra Emma

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