A letter to my boyfriend’s wife

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I first learned about your existence seven months into my relationship with your husband. I didn’t know he was married. He didn’t mention it and I didn’t ask. That was my mistake. I assumed he was not married because he was not wearing a ring when I found him. Little did I know that Kojo walks around with his ring tucked into his wallet.

The fact that he didn’t live with you made it very difficult for me to know about you. I lived with him in his house as though he was my husband. I had my first kiss with him in the hall, closer to the Jesus piece on the wall. I had my first sex with him in that same bed you two were sleeping on when you were around. He told me he loved me and I told him I loved him too. It was in that same bed he promised to love me until death do us part.

I believed him.

Some months into our relationship, I saw your photo on his phone with a new kid in your arms. He told me, “That’s my senior sister in Holland. She recently had a baby boy and she sends photos to me every now and then.” I trusted him because why not? Not too long afterward, I saw a photo frame of a little girl in one of his drawers. “Cute little princess,” I said. “Is she also the daughter of your senior sister?” He answered, “Yeah, that’s the first child of my senior sister. She’s Amanda and she’s my favorite of the kids.”

I kept staring at the photo. There was something in the eyes of that little girl that screamed for attention. Amanda has the nose of Kojo and if you look deep in her eyes, you’ll see a striking resemblance with Kojo. When I asked about it he said, “Oh the nose, it’s a family thing. Didn’t you see the nose of my sister? she has it and my junior brother also has it.”

“How about the eyes?” I should have asked but I couldn’t. He whisked me off in his arms and led me away to the bedroom. He kissed my neck and kissed my ears. He said, “Leave my sister’s daughter alone and let’s get jiggy.” Jiggy is how he called sex. I was carried away and forgot everything about the girl in the photo frame.

I got pregnant for him. Not once and not twice. But he always had the same reason for not making us have the baby. I didn’t mind that we were not married. I wanted to have his babies and I didn’t mind if the babies came before marriage or the marriage came before babies. In the end, all that mattered was us and our plans to stay forever in love. But Kojo had this to say, “Love is beautiful when the white gown comes first before the white Kaba and slit.” White gown for wedding and white Kaba for the child’s naming ceremony.

Through it all, I trusted him. Maybe I was blinded by the love I had for him or I was simply not looking hard enough for evidence of his past. Don’t call me stupid. I’m not. I lived in his house, slept in the same bed with him and went wherever he went. What else would make me look for evidence about his marital status?

But one evening, we came from town late and hungry. He needed some tea but we didn’t have it in the house, so he told me, “Take money from my wallet and get us some tea from outside.” I was in the room when he quickly rushed inside to tell me to stop going through his wallet because he had some money in his pocket to give me. It was too late to prevent what he wanted to prevent. I’d already seen his wedding ring tucked at the corner of his wallet.”

He stood there looking at me. I stood there shaking with anger, disappointment, and embarrassment.

For some seconds we said no word to each other. His ring was in the palm of my hand and we both stood still like statues. I kept nodding my head. Then the image of you with the little boy in your hands kept flashing through my eyes. The eyes of Amanda came back staring so hard at me. I kept repeating in my head, “I should have asked good questions instead of allowing him to answer for things I didn’t ask.”

I asked him, “So it’s true. You’re married. Amanda is your daughter? That woman you said was your senior sister, she’s your wife right?” I let my self down on the bed and started crying. I was totally broken and he was so ashamed to even say a word to me. Deep down I wanted him to lie to me. I wanted him to say something like, “That’s not my ring. I picked it along the street thinking I might meet the owner someday.” Any lie at all could do but he sat next to me and said, “I loved you too much I didn’t know how to tell you the truth.”

I asked him, “You lie to all the people you love?” He said, “Tell me the truth, If I told you I was married, would you have looked my way even once?” I started ranting, “This hurt, Kojo. This really hurts me to the core. All these months for nothing? All these months in bed with someone’s husband? I feel like dying because there’s nothing left for me.” He tried calming me down but I was inconsolable. I cried until I slept.

I left the house the next morning and told him never to call or look for me again. He tried stopping me but I shoved him off and left the house.

He kept calling to apologize to me. He would come to my place after work and tell me how much he loved me and how much he wanted me in his life. At some point, he cried but I stood my grounds and sent him away.

I tried every means to heal but it was difficult. I barely survived the first month without him. Some days I wanted to call him. Somedays I wanted to run back into his arms. It was hard and confusing. I didn’t even know myself any longer. How could I still have some desires left for a man who lied to me and wasted so many days of my life?

I survived the second month without him but in the third month, I walked to his house to pick the rest of my clothes and shoes I left in his house. When he saw me he smiled. I smiled too. I walked into the bedroom and he followed. He held me from behind and tried to kiss me. I fought and resisted. I left the bedroom and went to the hall. He followed, pulled me close to himself and tried to kiss me again. I fought him. Just when we got to the Jesus piece on the wall, his lips touched on mine and I gave it all away. He hurt me but I missed him. We kissed, had sex and we were back together again.

I had accepted my fate and my role in his life. I was the official side chick.

It’s very embarrassing to admit but there seemed to be nothing I could do about it. He put all the images of you and the children back at where they used to be before he hid them. A frame of you was placed next to the TV. What it meant was I saw you every day because every day when I was in the house, I watched the TV. I thought about you oftentimes and thought of how you will feel when you get to know about me. I was sorry for you. You married the wrong guy.

Kojo is the devil with the face of an angel. I was there often when you called him at night. Some times he would have his legs on me while telling you you were the love of his life. When you called him on video, I was there with him. When the kids came on the screen to say “hello daddy to him” I was there too, hidden from view. He’ll then hang up, turn to me and speak ill of you. Your man knows how to play this game. He’s a master of deception.

He told me one day that you were returning from abroad. It only meant I had to stay away for as long as you were in. He promised he’ll find time for us to be together. He promised he’ll make you leave as soon as possible so we could own our world again.

I trusted him.

I didn’t hear from him for two weeks. He never answered my calls or messages. I started getting worried. Worried turned to anger; “So this guy thinks he can thrash me just because his wife is in?” I sent him an angry message one evening, “I hope your wife sees you for who you are and abandon you the way you’ve abandoned me.” The message was read. No response.

The next morning, I hurried off to his house. I didn’t know what I was going to do there but I knew one thing for sure; I needed to give him a piece of my mind. I knocked, no one responded. I knocked again, there was no response. I knew how the house works. It’s hard to hear someone knocking when you were in the bedroom. I sat at the doorstep waiting to see him. Soon I heard a lady’s voice. I thought, “That might be the wife.” I knocked and the door got opened…

There she was…

Another woman. Someone who wasn’t you. You’re fair, she’s dark. You’re slim, she’s chubby. You’re beautiful, she’s beautiful too. We both stood there looking at each other. She asked, “How may I help you?” I said, “Tell Kojo Jennifer is here.” He rushed to meet me outside and closed the door behind us. I asked him, “So how many of us do you have?” He responded, “I don’t even know how to explain this to you. It’s not the way you think.” I told him, “Take me to her and let me tell her you’re a married man. Would you?” He blinked ceaselessly like a baby doll. He couldn’t.

If Kojo was my husband, I would have left him that day. But then again, why did I stick with him when I found out he was married? I don’t have an answer for that. Maybe, I needed proper closure. Finding out he was married was too sudden. That day, in front of his door, was all the closure I needed. I left him and didn’t bother to go back for my dress and shoes.

Why am I writing you this letter?

This letter isn’t for you, though it’s written for you. You might never read it because I’m never going to send it. This is a letter written by me to me to give me a channel to spew out all the hurt I’ve harbored inside. It’s a way of giving myself a clean slate to be able to begin again. I’ve made a mistake. I’ve learned. I’ve shared. Now, I look forward to a better tomorrow, without another woman’s husband.

PS: I miss the Jesus piece on the wall.   

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