Just Three Days After Her Wedding, She Was In My Arms

I don’t even know where to begin. I’ve been caught up in something that started off as a love story. It was everything I had ever wanted but now it feels like I am trapped in a storm I can’t escape.......➡️CONTINUE READING THE FULL ARTICLES HERE.

Safoa is beautiful. I am not using the word loosely. She has the kind of beauty that turns heads and steals hearts. Everyone I know feels a little insecure in her presence. As for the men, they ogle her as if she is the last piece of meat at a buffet. They don’t just want her, they long for her.

She could have any man she wants but she chose me. She loved me. Not in a way that suggests that she was doing me a favour by being with me, no, she was all in. I was literally her world. And she was the sun my world revolved around. I was so sure that if something happened to separate us I would cease to exist.

Life found a way to prove me wrong though. Safoa had to move far away from me to gain access to better opportunities. I thought I wouldn’t survive her but I am still here, aren’t I?

Despite the distance between us, we kept in touch. We truly to fan the fire of our love to keep the embers alive. In the beginning, we had it. Communication was strong. We called, we texted, and every second and every minute, she was on my mind. We had it all figured out until life got busy.

“Let’s catch up later,” we’d say.

“Give me a minute. Let me attend to this and get back to you right now,” one person would say.

Right now turned to an hour. An hour became six hours. Before we knew it, we were going for days without talking. Weeks even. Slowly, embers that once burned bright red turned cold and ashy. Strong communication was replaced with a palpable silence. Nobody broke it off. Life just happened and we didn’t have what it took to defy the powers above.

The next time I heard from her two years had passed. By the time we found each other, too much had changed. She had a man and they had a child together. I too had a woman and a beautiful daughter.

This time she didn’t live so far away from me. She was close enough for us to meet and catch up. On the day of our first meeting, sparks came flying everywhere. The love never died. The fire never quenched. Our reconnection lit everything up. It was insane.

One visit became two. Three became a pattern. We fell back into old habits as fast as a naughty child runs toward mischief. The text messages flowed. The video calls became a routine. The inside jokes. The laughter, it felt like we were never separated. Intimacy was otherworldly.

Yes, we slept together every time she came around. It always felt so surreal. I never for once thought I would hold her in my arms like that again, you know. But that connection never broke. It felt like riding a bicycle after taking a long break. We fit perfectly.

This affair of ours went on for almost two years. One day while we were in the throes of passion she said something that shook me.

“Charles,” she said in that sultry voice that always got me weak in the knees, “I want you to put a baby in me.”

She was getting ready for marriage at the time. Safoa told me she would pin the pregnancy on her fiance. She said, “It’s because your daughter is so beautiful. She looks almost white. I want to have a child like that.”

I didn’t agree to her request.

Last Saturday, she went ahead and got married. I watched her walk down the aisle with all the grace and poise only Safoa could possess. “My elegant queen,” I thought as I cheered her on. I listened to her recite her vows, to commit and submit herself to another man for life. All the guests couldn’t shut up about how madly in love the couple were.

Just this past Tuesday, Safoa was in my arms.

I didn’t think I would ever cross that line of taking another man’s wife to bed but it happened.

My own reflection sickens me. I can’t believe that I went that far. Now, I’m saddled with this unbearable guilt. I can’t think straight. I don’t know how I let things get to this point. This isn’t who I thought I was but life has taught me that I am capable of anything given the right circumstances.

I know what I did was wrong—beyond wrong. Another man’s wife? Fresh from the altar? I keep asking myself, what the hell are you doing?

I am worried that if I don’t do something soon, I might destroy her home. Lord knows I can’t do that to her. Here lies the case where she is relentless. Anything Safoa wants, she gets it. And her pull over me is so strong. I don’t think on my own, I can resist her.

So here I am. Ashamed. Confused. Lost. This whole situation is eating me alive. What can I do to get out of this entanglement? The guilt is drowning me.

– C