I liked him as a friend but at some point, the feelings I had for him changed. I don’t know what he did differently or what he said to me. All I realized at some point was that I was in love and wanted him for myself. He had a girlfriend and I knew about her. Maybe, it was that reason I couldn’t take my chances with him until it was too late.

One night he came to visit me and when he was leaving, I hugged him. It wasn’t the first time I was hugging him but this hug felt different. It lingered for too long. I didn’t want to let go and he might have felt it. His hand wandered down my butt and by the time we realized, we were having sex.

It felt a little bit embarrassing but the two of us were not kids. I was older than him. I think three years older but that didn’t matter. We could have talked about what happened but the two of us dressed up and parted without addressing the elephant in the room.

All night I was thinking about it. “What happens going forward? Is he going to be my boyfriend? What happens to his girlfriend?”

A week after we had sex, I heard from a mutual friend that Joe was getting married. I thought it was a lie. I called him on the phone to ask if it was true. I prayed he should tell me it wasn’t true but he said, “Yeah, I’m getting married next two weeks. You were the first I wanted to tell when the invitations were ready but…”

He couldn’t end his statement but I understood why he couldn’t tell me about the wedding. That night he was going to tell me was the night we had sex. I cursed my stars. I called myself silly for getting involved with a friend who was getting married. I felt so bad about our actions that night but we couldn’t address the elephant in the room. We both pretended nothing had happened.

I was at the wedding, looking at them as if it didn’t hurt. It was after the wedding that we decided to address our issues. He came to say thank you but we used the moment to talk about what happened between us. He told me he was sorry. I told him there was no need to be sorry because I initiated the whole thing and led him to temptation.

In the middle of the sorrys, emotions took over and we had sex again. His marriage was less than a month old. I beat myself for being a witch. I went to church and prayed for forgiveness of my sins. Maybe God forgave me but he didn’t prevent the trouble on the way coming.

I got pregnant for him.

The night I found out that I was pregnant, I cried like I was a baby. For six years I’d been single. A lot of guys came my way but I used technicalities to drive them away. For six years I was celibate, reserving myself for the deserving man only to sleep with a groom and get pregnant for him.

I was thirty-two. Obviously, I wasn’t a kid but I had a kid problem. “Should I tell him about it?” “No, I won’t. I already know his answer but am I ready to do what he would want me to do? Get rid of it?”

I wasn’t so sure of what to do until I met a doctor friend of mine and narrated the whole story to her. She said, “At your age, I won’t advise you to go through that. Keep the baby. If you like don’t tell him. You have a good job and can take care of the baby yourself so why bother?”

I listened to the doctor’s advice and decided to keep the baby. I was hiding the pregnancy from Joe so I did everything to stay away from him but you know, things of that nature can’t stay hidden forever so the rumours got to him and he came asking questions.

“Anne, what’s the truth? Am I responsible? Everything fits and matches our circumstances. I want to be sure if I played a role.”

I said no but my conscience knocked on my head and said, “You won’t have a better time to say the truth than today. Tell him. What’s the worst that could happen?”

So I told him the truth and he fell on his knees asking me to abort the mission. I was emphatic, “Don’t worry. You don’t need to play a role in his life if you don’t want to. I’m not asking too much from you. I can take care of it from here.”

He was like, “But it doesn’t change the fact that I have a child with you. Someday the truth will come out and I would be destroyed.”

I promised him one thing, to guard the truth from everyone to protect his marriage and also protect my reputation. I meant every word I said because I had an image to protect.

Because of that, I sought a transfer from work and relocated before I could deliver the child. I didn’t want to leave traces. You know friends, they visit after a baby to determine who he/she resembles. I gave birth to a boy and he came as a replica of Joe. Damn, it broke my heart.

My mom was terminally sick but she was happy for me. At least, her only daughter gave her a grandchild before she could meet her ancestors. A week after delivery, I texted Joe; “It’s a boy. Just so you know.” He responded, “Congratulations. When I get the time. I would come and look for you.”

He sent money to take care of the hospital bills and from there he sent money monthly for the upkeep of the child. He came to visit when our boy was learning to walk. He looked at him and said, “How long can we hide this? He’s looking just like me.” I answered, “I know. It’s the reason I relocated. No one knows our story here. He’ll be safe.”

He was sending money until her wife got pregnant and delivered. I understood he was spreading himself thin and it was the reason he couldn’t send us money but it continued for too long I felt he was intentionally neglecting us. He was there at the boy’s first birthday but was absent on the second and third birthdays. At that time, he was not evening answering my text messages. I took a bow, deleted his number and decided to go one woman band. I would play the drums and sing my own songs. Solo.

My son was nine when an unknown number called and I picked up. The voice said, ‘“Where are you? I want to see you as soon as possible.”

It was Joe. I froze on the phone for a couple of seconds. “Joe, you sound desperate. I hope nothing is wrong?” He answered, “Everything is wrong but let’s talk when we meet.”

A piece of me was still angry with him for abandoning us but I was eager to know what was wrong so I scheduled to meet him. I didn’t want him to know where I lived so I rather traveled to town to see him. His first question was, “Where’s the boy?” I answered, “You expect me to carry the evidence to town? Hell, I wouldn’t do that?”

He said, “It doesn’t matter anymore. Who knows or who doesn’t know, It just doesn’t matter.”

He wasn’t looking well. He looked like a broken man with dead eyes. For once I thought his wife had gotten hints of what we were hiding. I asked, “She knows about it?” He answered, “I don’t know if you know but I had two kids with my wife. A boy and a girl. Long story short, they are not mine. I’m yet to know who they belong to but they are not mine. I’m not their father.”

I screamed, “Jesus!”

These things happen in a movie or you hear about it in the news. It doesn’t happen to someone you know or someone closer to you. “Nine years after marriage and your kids aren’t yours? How did you find out?” He answered, “I’m here to find out if the one you have is truly mine. I must be impotent for another man to impregnate my wife for me. Not once but twice.”

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What he said rubbed me the wrong way. “That I cheated on you? What motivation do I have to give you someone else’s kid? I would pay all the money in this world to change our story if I could. It brings shame to me to pin the pregnancy on you so why would I do that?”

He had seen a lot to believe my word so we did the test. The probability of paternity was 99.99% He wasn’t excluded. He is the father of my boy.

He abandoned us. We were kept in the dark for too long the sudden light he was throwing on us hurt my eyes so I squinted. I said, “No. You can’t come and claim what you abandoned years ago. Whatever has happened may change your story but it doesn’t change mine. It doesn’t change the fact that I cheated and got pregnant for a married man. We can’t come to the light with you. Leave us here alone and fight your battles.”

Today, his family is coming to claim the child so I should show him where we live. Tomorrow, he has sent people around town to look for my whereabouts. He wouldn’t take his time with us. He wants things done his way. He’s down so he wants to go down with me.

My mom died. I texted him but he didn’t even say a word back to me. My boy graduated from nursery and I took beautiful photos but I didn’t know who to share them with. I couldn’t post my own kid because he was a shame I was trying to hide but he comes out of nowhere to pretend all is right because he had lost everything.

I lost everything when he abandoned us. I put my future on the line, took a bad transfer so I can hide from my own shadow. He may not know how to lose but I’m a damn good loser.

I told him, “We are not coming with you. We want things to stay as it is—like you never came around. I’m not ready to let my story out there just because yours is out there. You told me when the truth comes out it would destroy your marriage so I should keep the truth away from you and I listened. Let’s respect each other. Allow me to stay in my corner.”

He calls me selfish and insensitive but I said, “Maybe you think you’re talking to your wife. I’m not your wife to be called those names. Stay out of my life. When I’m ready to own my shame, I will come out. You can’t force me.”

He’s threatening me with legalities but he doesn’t know how far I can go with this if he decides to go that way. my regret is the DNA I allowed him to do. It puts me in a difficult position. Now I can’t tell him I don’t have his child. And I don’t know why he feels everything has to go down just because he’s down. He has friends who are my friends. We were once the children of the same community so everyone knows us.

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Our scarlet-looking sins don’t become as white as snow just because his wife committed a grievous one. We are in the same boat but if he can be sensible about the whole issue, something good can come out. They are still not divorced and I don’t know what they’ve made together as a couple. Bringing this out will somehow help the girl’s case but he won’t listen. He wants to take things by force.

I’m ready for him. It’s going to be a long day.

—Anne  

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