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When I woke up the next day, she had already prepared breakfast for me. I rejected it with a big smile on my face and packed my bags. I literally begged her not to leave the house vacant until he came. “Also, when he comes, let him know that you have met his sister, Amanda.” She smiled and nodded her head like a child, innocently.

In between getting ready to leave and actually leaving, we had a fair conversation here and there. Imagine, fiancée and side chick in the same room discussing life. You may decide that you would have thrown blows and insults, but I was not going to belittle myself that way.

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For a whole week, no one could get through to me. I was in an Airbnb and told no one about it. In fact, if it weren’t for an email my sister-in-law-to-be sent me, telling me how my worried parents were planning to go on social media and to the police to declare me missing, I would have been there for a couple more weeks.

My parents didn’t know about it, so I went home to see them with his sister and narrated all of my findings to them. The panties, the shoes, the girl coming in, us having a sleepover. My mom wouldn’t believe it. “But he looked frail and sick. So, was it just a show he came to put up?” my mom asked.

It was his own sister who had been filling the potholes in the story for me. My dad leaned back in his seat, his head resting in his hands, asking questions just to be sure that it was indeed my fiancé, the man we all knew, that I was talking about.

My fiancé himself came around that evening. Since I went “missing,” he had been coming around during the evenings to check if they had heard from me. My dad just told him I was still nowhere to be found. But he didn’t leave. He was lingering around, so I sent my mom to him to tell him that I was back and that I knew about his cheating escapades.

His parents and our pastor came knocking on our door early the next day. Everyone on the panel that day promised they didn’t know he was that kind of man, and they began throwing apologies around. Once in a while, they would chastise him, but it always kept coming back to me forgiving him. “We have even sacked the lady and warned her not to come around him again. He can never be hers. Come and take your husband,” his mother kept saying. “Don’t allow another woman to come and enjoy what you have suffered to sow. We have spoken to him; he is a changed man.”

I was angry when everyone was saying their piece, but it was the pastor’s submission that vexed me the most. He started quoting Bible verses concerning forgiveness. Then he would remind me to “soften” my heart.

My mom nearly started leaning into their nonsense. It was then my dad rose to the occasion, put everyone in their place, and gave me the floor. I sent them away, telling them that as soon as I made a decision about him and the wedding, I would send a message to his family. My dad was disappointed in our pastor and swore off going to his church ever again.

The following day, early in the morning, my dad was in my room. “Whatever you decide to do, I am here and I will support you.” I made my decision; I was not going to marry him. He hugged me. “I raised you well, and today I am proud of you for choosing yourself. What you did today really showed me that I have done this parenting thing well.” He even paid for my whole flight back to Canada.

Honestly, that was the first time I cried since the incident happened. I cried in his arms like the baby that I am, and he held me tight until I was almost asleep in his arms. It felt good, just like when I was a child and I was sick, and Daddy would carry me while we walked the corridors of the hospital. Only this time, I was sick from love.

I spent some days in Ghana and eventually left. At the airport, my ex-fiancé’s sister was there too. That woman deserves the world, and I hope she gets it. Alongside my parents, they saw me off. As soon as we took off, I breathed a sigh of relief that came from the pit of my stomach. The environment back at home was choking me. Everyone had different views, and all they did was talk about me.

We were supposed to travel to the Maldives for our honeymoon. I had paid for it. Since no wedding happened, and there were no newlyweds, I just invited my parents to come and join me so that we could have a little family vacation in the Maldives.

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

I booked an entire room for myself because I didn’t need to be reminded of the pain, while I handed them the honeymoon suite. They have earned it, truth be told. They have been married for decades, and here they still are, strong and mighty. It was just fair; I let them have a second honeymoon.

I didn’t get married, but I am still one of the happiest women on earth. Do I have regrets? Oh, no. Will I still cancel my wedding if the next person also messes things up? Oh, yes. Will I fall in love again? Why not? Because love is definitely a beautiful thing, and my parents are a clear example.

— Amanda

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