How I Discovered My Sister Didn’t Want Me to Have a Happy Marriage Like Hers

When my elder sister gave birth, I went to live with her and her husband. That was when I met Johnson. Johnson was a business partner to my brother-in-law, but because my sister handled her husband’s business, she was the one who mostly dealt with Johnson—so she was very close to Johnson, even more than her husband was.......➡️CONTINUE READING THE FULL ARTICLES HERE.

Johnson came home often on Saturdays, and whenever he was coming, my sister would ask me to cook the dishes he would eat. When he came around, I was the one who served him. He called me “junior Adobea.” Adobea is my sister’s name.

For some reason, anytime he came around, he loved to talk to me and create fun around me. Because of that, I could also call him a friend. I didn’t have his number or know anything more than him being a friend to the family. We never talked while he was out of our house.

One day, I overheard them talking about travelling and how they would keep the business going while he was away. Johnson was the one travelling. It was part of their job, so they travelled around a lot, but this time, it sounded like Johnson was going away for a very long time.

Later in the evening, he told me himself that he would be travelling. He joked that he would buy a car for me when he was coming back. “Or do you want an aeroplane instead?” he joked. He left that night, and I didn’t see him again.

My sister felt sick. She had to have surgery, so she was in the hospital for a few days before the surgery. While there, I was the one holding her phone, handling every conversation that came through. I talked to those who called and even responded to text messages. If they asked a question I couldn’t answer, I told them my sister was away and would respond when she came back.

Johnson texted the night my sister had surgery. I scrolled back a little to see the history of the messages he had sent, and then I saw my name. While talking to my sister, he still referred to me as “junior Adobea.” He asked if I was still around and how I was doing. He said, “Tell her I will bring her plane when I’m coming.”

I got curious, so I typed my name just to check other things he had said to my sister that she never told me. The messages dated as far back as when he was around. He expressed interest in me to my sister after he had told my sister’s husband how he wanted to know me more than just hello. So, according to him, my sister’s husband asked him to talk to my sister first to get her permission. And guess what my sister did.

“Are you serious?” my sister asked him. “What do you see in her? You’re a very good person, so I have to be honest with you—that girl is not worth it, and I will tell you why when we meet.”

The message got truncated. I didn’t get to read why she said I wasn’t worth it because they talked about it without writing about it. I read where my sister was asking him to behave around me so I wouldn’t get a clue. “She’s a bad girl. She shouldn’t know your intentions about her,” she warned.

In another conversation that happened later, my sister was asking him if he had my number, and Johnson joked, “Yes, I collected it, but I haven’t called her yet.” My sister said, “I would be very disappointed if you built something with her in the shadows without my knowledge.” Johnson sent laughing emojis and said he was joking. From then on, he only mentioned my name in passing, just as he did when he asked about “junior Adobea.”

Knowing this changed everything for me—the way I saw my sister, the love I had for her, the perception that blood is thicker than water. She could have simply said, “My sister is not ready,” and I would have understood. But for her to go that far to discredit me meant she had ill motives toward me.

I kept receiving calls and responding to messages on her behalf. Johnson called, but I never picked up. He was the only one I didn’t talk to when I had her phone. I did all I was supposed to do as a sister until she was discharged and brought home. I didn’t ask her about it or tell anyone about it until I’m sharing this story today.

Anytime she asks me to come around to help her, I go and happily do whatever she asks me to do. I don’t hate her because of that. She’s not a bad person because she spoke ill about me, but I’m happy I know what she thinks about me. I know she doesn’t want me to be at her level in life so I can always bow to her or serve under her feet. I’m working hard to prove her wrong.