I called her “Mom.” She told me she was too young for me to call her that, so I should call her by her name. It was hard because I’d been raised to accord people respect. When I insisting on calling her “Mom,” she told me I was rather disrespecting her because I wasn’t doing what she had asked me to do. I ended up calling her Gina against my better judgment.

FOLLOW US ON WHATSAPP CHANNEL TO RECEIVE ALL STORIES IN YOUR INBOX

She owns a company with her husband. She manages the company while her husband travels around bringing deals. I looked at her and yearned to marry a woman like her because of her beauty and how hard she worked. I only had access to her because I fixed her IT stuff, both at home and at her office. It was her husband who brought me in through my boss, but I didn’t engage with her husband a lot. It was always Gina I met.

One day she offered me a lift, stopped to get food, and asked if I wanted something. I thought she was getting it packaged so we could carry it away. She said, “Come out, we are eating here.” We spent over an hour on food I devoured in ten minutes. I realized she wanted to talk, so I listened to her talk about business, her travels, and lessons about life.

We did this twice until I felt the change in the texture of our relationship. She whispered where she didn’t need to. She sent photos of herself when we chatted and was always asking if I’d gone to this place or that. I loved the attention from her. It made me feel special because not everyone could have that access to her.

In her car one day, she asked for a hug and she didn’t want to let go. “Hmmm, that feels good. Keep hugging, don’t let go.” When we separated, she thanked me and drove off.

All night I stayed thinking about it. She had three children, had been married for fifteen years, and was ten years older than me. I liked her, but I was also scared of what was about to happen. Another day in her car and she asked for a hug. Just when I was about to, she said, “No, I want it in a better way than this. Let’s go.”

We went into a house that didn’t have anyone living in it. She had the keys. She opened the door and let me in. She went to have a shower and I did too. It was so unplanned, but it ended up quite well. She lay on me while we cuddled. She was naked. I was too. I was hoping for the happy ending, but anytime I tried, she stopped me. “No, not that. Just stay calm and cuddle.”

All night until midnight when we were leaving the place, that was all we did. The next day, she sent me money, a very large amount for no work done. She said, “I’m not trying to buy you, but I’m happy with what you did for me yesterday. Buy yourself something.”

She called that house “Green House” even though it was painted white. “We are going to the Green House today, please get ready.”

I would be ready and she would come for me. All we did was cuddle. At some point I was eager to go further. I was eager to show her another side of me, but she said, “My husband will know if I do it with you. Just a cuddle. That’s all I want.”

“How will he know? Will you tell him?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but I feel like he’ll know. It’s also a step too far for me to go. Forgive me.”

So we had a very lengthy conversation about that one evening when she called me to come over. I said, “I want more. It’s tiring the way you play with my emotions like a pendulum, swinging left and swinging right. I want more.”

She agreed with me and said, “I know it’s hard, but what if I pay you? That’s all I need. I don’t want you in me and I know why. Don’t be difficult with me, please.”

We didn’t discuss any amount, but she gave me money every weekend. Sometimes she would send GHC1,000 and other times she’d buy shoes, a shirt, and add something to it. She told me to tell her if I needed anything, but what I needed she couldn’t provide.

One day she said the Green House had been rented out, so we needed to find a new place. She didn’t want to go to hotels because it was dangerous. She asked for time and, to date, we haven’t found a new place. We talk. She sends money. She says we should hold on, but these past few days have given me time to reflect.

Who pays for cuddles? What am I being used for? What is my essence in her life?

I’m not looking for her to take care of me as if I were her own. I know my place in her life and I know the role I have to play. What amazes me is the length she goes with me but won’t let me go through to the end. Sometimes it leaves me emotionally distressed and needing a place to pour out my feelings.

I know I’m not a good man for doing this with another man’s wife, but it’s not all my fault and I intend to stop. We don’t have a place now, so I will heal out of the relationship. One step at a time, I will one day not pick up her calls. I will avoid her completely and look for what I can truly own.

—Eddy

This story you just read was sent to us by someone just like you. We know you have a story too. Email it to us at [email protected]. You can also drop your number and we will call you so you tell us your story.