I was very sure I was going to end up marrying Samson. We dated for almost six years—from our days in the university till we completed, did our National Service and found a job in two different towns. He was there for me and I was there for him. He called me B and I called him Sam. We had days we fought and almost gave it all up in front of each other. I would call him a devil who’s determined to ruin my life and he’ll respond, “Who doesn’t know that you and your kind fly on a broom at night?”

We’ll call it quit and swear never to get back together again but the next day, he would pick up the phone and say, “What you told me yesterday really hurt. Please apologize if you want me to take you back.” With a defiant of a little girl, I would tell him, “To hell with you. I don’t need you back.” He’ll then respond, “If that’s how witches apologize when they are wrong, then I accept it.” We’ll both laugh and get back together again and promise each other a love forever.

During our six years affair, we broke up about a hundred times but the longest we stayed apart was one and a half day. We couldn’t live together and we couldn’t let each other go.

But one day, it all changed. We went our separate ways and never returned. We thought we were stronger than every fight but it took only a suspicion of infidelity to break us apart.

I had met Stanley, now my husband and we had started getting to know each other. It wasn’t anything serious and I could swear on everything there is to swear on that I wasn’t into him. It was just friendship. Maybe he had a thing for me but I had Sam and he was enough. I couldn’t throw a six-year relationship away for someone I just met but Stanley had a game plan I wasn’t aware of.

He would call me first thing in the morning and would be the last person to call in the night. We were both living in Koforidua while Samson lived in Cape Coast. Stanley had the advantage of seeing me all the time while Samson saw me once in a while. So when Samson found out about my friendship with Stanley, he got uneasy and started complaining. We fought about it and even broke up because of it.

One night Samson called me and had a call waiting signal. I called back and he was so angry. “Who were you talking to at this time of the night?” “An old friend at the university found my number on Facebook and called me.” I lied. He said, “Since when did you start lying to me?” I called Stanley’s phone and it was also a call waiting. You think I’m dumb?”

That was the first time I got to know he had picked Stanley’s number from my phone. There was something about Stanley he didn’t like. He found him as a competition and that did his pride a lot of wrongs. So me lying about my call with Stanley became the last straw. He said, “If you could lie about him, then there’s something going on.”

That was the end of me and Sam.

I thought we could get over it and be us again. After all, we’ve had a lot of troubles bigger than that but we always came back together. Stronger. But it turned out that it’s the little hole that sinks the biggest ship. We sunk, never to resurface again.

A year and a half later, I said yes to Stanley

Stan never left. He was always there asking for a chance. He did the right things and said all the right things. It took a little while for me to say yes to him because I was hoping maybe, Samson will call and get us back together again. That call never came. I moved on. I said yes to Stanley because I loved him. I’d grown to see him for who he was and he was perfect for me.

We dated for almost two years and got married.

I don’t know but a voice kept telling me that I owed Samson an apology. He suspected I was dating Stanley. Though it wasn’t true as at that time, finally, I ended up marrying Stanley and that didn’t feel right. For the sake of what we once had and the moments we’ve shared together, I called Samson, I think a week before our wedding to apologize to him. He said, “Life happens and situations change. It’s been four years since we heard from each other. You should move on because I have. You don’t need my permission to marry anyone. Go on and be happy.”

I knew that boy too well to know when he was putting on a facade. He was talking like a man who was worth his salt but his voice gave him away. He was still angry about the whole thing. He had been proven right and that hurt him the more. I tried all I could to get him to smile but that guy never did. He told me to move on and hung up on me.

I had a beautiful day on my wedding day and to cap the beauty of the wedding, I returned from Honeymoon pregnant. It felt like joy after joy. Stanley had a mini party for me. He killed a chicken and ensured I ate it alone. It was fun yet surreal.

I had a boy. He looked nothing like the image we saw in the scan I did when he was four months old. That baby I saw in the scan looked cute. This one had a big head like his father and eyes so big as if he was born a watchman. During his naming ceremony, a friend of mine who also knew Samson told me, “Samson had been very sick for some time now. If you see him now, you wouldn’t be able to identify him. That sickness had taken away who he was. He’s in very bad shape.”

My heart!

I kept thinking about him and even wished I could pay him a visit. To leave my house to visit him would also take a very huge lie I might not be able to defend when shit hits the fan so I settled for a call instead. I called him once and he didn’t pick. He never returned my call. I call him the second time. He didn’t pick and he never returned the call. On the third day, I called him several times and later sent him a message. He replied to none of them.

I gave up on him

I had my life to live and he had his too. If he wouldn’t like to talk to me, I should respect him enough to stop worrying him. From that day on, I decided never to call or think of him again. I had a husband to love and a baby to care for. Those were enough to fill my days.

My son was seven months old when I had a call from that my friend. I was at the hospital weighing my child so I couldn’t pick up. I called her on my way home and she told me, “Samson couldn’t make it. He died.”

All of a sudden, my knee started wobbling. I turned back, pick a spot where I was standing and sat down. I asked her, “Are you serious? You mean he died just like that?” She answered, “He didn’t die just like that. That guy had been sick for over a year. If you saw him, you would have been happy that he had finally had some rest.”

I broke down and cried like a teenage girl who just lost her parents. My boy was sleeping behind my back, but soon he too started crying too. I had a reason to cry but what was his reason? Was he hungry?

I thought I had forgotten about him but the news of his death really got me shaken. The sad thing was, I didn’t know how to mourn him. I’d never had someone close to me died and I didn’t know the best way to mourn him that will suffice the kind of memory we both have had. I needed someone to talk to. Someone to tell me, “It’s alright.” I needed a channel to get things off my chest but all I had was my husband.

I was sad for days and he kept asking what the problem was but all I could say was, “Nothing. I’m fine.” “You’re fine but you’ve been moody for days. Is it something I’ve done?” I told him, “Don’t take it personally. It’s nothing and it’s not about you.”

When I was alone, I could cry. I would call that my friend and mourn with her. I got sick for some days. I even felt responsible for his death; “If only I stayed with him, maybe things would have been different.” I was sinking into depression at some point so I opened up to my husband; “Sorry I’m telling you this late. Samson died.” He asked, “Samson? Who is Samson?” I answered, “Samson. My friend Samson?”

He was indifferent. I didn’t expect much from him but he could have feigned shock or surprise but that didn’t happen. He said, “That’s shocking but is that the reason you’ve been quiet all these days? You should be grateful you ended up with me. You would have been a widow by now.”

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This large lump of shock sunk down my throat and I swallowed it. It felt like swallowing my words. That was the only reason why I didn’t respond to his inhumane response to me. If not anything, I was his wife and I was going through pain. He could have forgotten the reason for my pain, however stupid, and rather seek to put my feelings right. Men and ego. He still felt superior over a man who was no more.

He didn’t allow me to attend the funeral. “Whatever existed between you and that guy ended the day you said yes to me. You have no reason to be there.”

But to move on and be truly happy in my marriage, I had to forgive myself and forgive my husband. I don’t believe I would have been a widow if married Samson. One’s destiny can help change another’s destiny. Life is like that. I can only be grateful for being alive and also be grateful for knowing Samson and most importantly wish him perfect peace in his rest.

—Beatrice, Ghana 

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