My Ex Came To My Wedding Uninvited To Dance And Hand Me A Note (Part 2)

Everybody said I should tell my wife about it, so I did just that. She had her suspicions on the wedding day. She saw my countenance and felt all was not well. When I said I didn’t know the dancing girl, she said she didn’t believe me, but that wasn’t the time to probe, so she let it pass.......➡️CONTINUE READING THE FULL ARTICLES HERE.

I narrated the whole story to her—from the beginning when all was well, to the point where her anger issues came in and why I decided to let the relationship go. Of course, I told her about the abortion too, and she asked me, “So what does she want?”

I gave her the note my ex gave me on our wedding day and told her, “You’re a woman, so maybe you can understand her. This is what she sent me on our wedding day.”

She read it aloud a thousand times. She told me, “Maybe she’s only scaring you, or she could be up to something sinister. You need to know what she wants and see if we can meet her halfway.”

She asked me to call her. I told her, “She doesn’t pick up my calls.” She told me, “Then look for her and get understanding. Maybe a simple conversation would resolve all the issues.”

One Saturday morning, I sat on a bus to her place. There are times when you go after answers to certain questions, yet you’re scared to face the answers. I was not sure of how the whole conversation was going to go. I knew her temperament, so I was scared to think of what she could do. I thought of how to start the conversation. I asked myself if I should bring in another family member. I fell asleep on the bus and had a dream she was all lovey-dovey when she saw me.

Immediately, she saw my face, frowned, and started walking inside. I knew if she got inside before me, she would lock the door, so I quickly followed and got to her before she entered. She asked, “What do you want from me? Shouldn’t you be enjoying your marriage and wait for whatever comes of it in the future?” I answered, “I’m here because you won’t answer my calls. We need to talk.”

After several minutes of argument and a little scuffle here and there, she asked me, “What do you want from me? You’ve gotten what you’ve always wanted—a woman without a temper—so why are you pursuing the one with a temper?” I gave her the note and asked, “I want to know the meaning of this.” She said, “I paid for what I ate, and I wanted you to know. Or did you want me to pay for the music too?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” I said.

She went mute for a while. The room was tense. I didn’t know what to tell her since I didn’t know her motive. She said, almost in whispers, “I haven’t forgiven you. You took a piece of me from me that I will never get back, and later treated me like toilet paper. I will never forgive you.”

I apologised. I even went down on my knees and apologised for everything I did and didn’t do. She only had to say that I did something wrong, and I would accept that I did it. I thought we were getting somewhere until she told me, “Your wife will pay for it. You got me pregnant and made me abort it. You think it will be fair if she delivers a child? You didn’t want it with me, so you can’t want it with her.”

That really got me scared. “So are you attacking us spiritually? Is that what you’re doing?” I asked her. She answered, “I can’t tell you everything, but when the time comes—very soon—you’ll know.” I asked her what I should do for her to know how sorry I was. She told me if I was sorry, I would have come back to marry her and not another woman.

“So what do you want me to do? What do you want me to give that would suffice?”

I was trying my best to get her to forgive and move on. At that moment, if she told me to give an amount I didn’t have, I would have borrowed it. But she told me point-blank that she didn’t need anything and had said all she needed to say, so I should wait and see. The whole conversation was going nowhere. She was not ready to change her mind. All the apologies I said landed in a ditch. I told her, “I’m happy we’ve talked. Whenever you want to forgive, just call me.”

When I got home, I told my wife everything, and she laughed. She said, “She’s just scaring you. Dogs that bite hardly bark. Leave her alone; she’ll slowly heal.”

I didn’t try to call back or text her again. I used the rest of my energy to pray and concentrate on what I could do to grow my marriage. But the lesson in there wasn’t taken for granted at all—that hurt people indeed hurt people. I didn’t blame her. I didn’t wish bad upon her. I didn’t even think she was doing too much. I only wished she could let go so she could create a place for love in the future.

I haven’t heard from her again since we talked, so I don’t know much about what she’s doing. But I can happily say that my wife got pregnant and had a child without any struggle—not even pregnancy pain or stress. And the beautiful thing is, my wife lives her life as if nothing had happened. Not once has she mentioned her name or brought her up in our conversations. She tells me, “If you know nothing, nothing knows you,” so I walk around with that mantra: “I know nothing. Nothing knows me too.”