I lived with my sister and her husband during the initial stages of their marriage. My brother-in-law and I struck up a friendly bond. When he was hungry, I was the one he turned to. When he needed something done, I was the one he asked. I took care of everything in the house while my sister focused on loving him and building their marriage.......CONTINUE READING THE ARTICLE FROM THE SOURCE>>>>>
I lived with them for three years before leaving for school. While I was away, I called home often, and whenever I spoke to my sister, I would ask to speak to her husband, and she would hand the phone to him. To be honest, the relationship I had with her husband was free-flowing. We could laugh about anything and talk about ordinary things in a humorous way.
We would spend several minutes on the phone discussing what had been happening at home while I was away. He would tell me he missed my cooking, teasing me about the days I made less-than-perfect meals. He would ask about my boyfriend, even though I didn’t have one, and advise me to be careful with the men I interacted with. It was all normal until one day, when I asked about him, my sister said he wasn’t there. From that day on, whenever I asked about her husband, her responses were vague, so I decided to call him myself.
As usual, he was happy to hear from me, and we had our usual fun conversation. I mentioned that my sister had said he wasn’t around the times I had asked about him. He sighed and went silent for a few seconds before telling me he had been around. Though his response seemed suspicious, I didn’t press further. Days later, my mom called and said, “Stop talking to Agyeiwaa’s husband. He’s not your husband, and he’s not your friend. Stop talking to him as if you were the one he married.”
I was stunned. I asked what the problem was, and she said there was no problem but that she was advising me. I’m old enough to know that advice doesn’t come out of nowhere. I pressed for an explanation until my dad took the phone and told me, “Your sister has a problem with it. She says it makes her uncomfortable, so we thought we should talk to you. That’s the truth.”
When they hung up, I called my sister. There had to be something wrong for her to say that, and I wanted to hear it from her directly. At first, she denied ever telling my parents what they had relayed to me, but she eventually said, “I don’t want other people to think badly about your relationship with my husband. You know how people can talk.”
I was blunt with her. “It’s not about other people because there has never been a third party involved in our interactions. It’s just the three of us in the house. What do other people have to do with it?” She repeated the same thing in different words: “Stay away from my husband. I don’t like it.”
She’s my elder sister, the one I’ve spent the best years of my life with. I lived with her and went to school. When she started dating her husband, I was there. I remember the times he bribed me to take my sister out and the times they brought me food after their outings. He even contributed to celebrating my birthday. He was like a brother to me even before they got married.
After that conversation, we both felt bitter and hung up without reaching any agreement. Later, my dad called and asked me to be patient. My mom seemed to side with my sister, but it didn’t bother me. It was a simple request, so I decided to heed their advice.
I didn’t see or speak to my sister again until my mom told me she had delivered their first child. I went home to visit my parents and, while there, the atmosphere was tense. Her husband came over, but as soon as he saw me, he seemed uneasy and kept his distance. Even when I greeted him, he only nodded. My sister couldn’t look me in the eye, even as I smiled and tried to play with the baby.
On the way home with my mom, I asked if there was more to the situation than just my playful relationship with her husband. I wanted to know because it felt deeper than I had initially thought. My mom confessed, and since that confession, I’ve never exchanged a word with my sister. Surprisingly, it seems my mom and dad want it this way—that the two of us don’t talk.
According to my mom, my sister had told her that her husband had been mentioning my name after I left, comparing her cooking to mine and always saying my meals were better. Additionally, her husband had been pressuring her to visit me on campus because he missed me. All of this weighed on her until one day, during an intimate moment, her husband mentioned my name.
They argued about it until the issue reached my parents. My sister made her husband swear with an egg and schnapps that he had never done anything inappropriate with me. She only reconciled with him after he took the oath.
All of this happened while I was at school, living my life innocently. I don’t know why her husband mentioned my name at that moment, but it was likely a slip of the tongue. My sister should have spoken to me about it and heard my side of the story.
When my mom told me the whole truth, I waited for the right time to talk to my sister in the spirit of reconciliation. Yes, I accused her of handling the situation poorly, and that triggered her. “Do you think I didn’t know you were eyeing my husband?” she screamed. “I wouldn’t blame him much if he slept with you. You were the one asking for it.”
I knew she hated me with all her heart that day. All I had done was help them. While she slept, I woke up at dawn to clean their house and prepare their meals. I washed everything, including her panties and her husband’s boxers. I served her husband his meals while she was busy watching TikTok and creating content no one watched.
I forgave her but swore in my heart never to speak to her again, and that’s how it’s been since that confrontation. I’m out of school now and working on my own business. Whenever I see her, it feels like a clash of the titans. She won’t even let me touch her kids, and her husband acts jumpy around me.
Whatever thoughts are going through her head when she sees me, I don’t know, but I pray she lets them go because I know they’re not good. God knows I never fancied her husband for a second. Everything I did came from a place of love, and her husband appreciated my efforts. I walk with a clear conscience every day because I’m not guilty. If she thinks I’m no longer her sister because of her husband, that’s fine. We’ll see how life unfolds.
