The GIRL with whom I share my Husband 2…

FB_IMG_1465317785294[1]It seemed as if my dear Husband wasn’t going to be home in time to find his favorite meal, nice and hot as he loved it. He never stayed that late. Now that I thought of his punctuality, every piece of the puzzle started to gradually fall in place. It was almost midnight and he hadn’t even the courtesy to call me.Oh but I am a good wife. I sat there, calmly waiting for the father of my children. There was so much noise in my head. I switched off the television and the lights, and sat in the dark. I desired complete silence. Maybe it would bring me the illusion of peace. My Ajanta wall clock seemed to tick too loud it made an annoying ring between my ears. I removed its batteries and put it on the table. Anger slowly replaced the quiet within me. It continued to rapidly grow as if it were fighting for the precious life that was its own.

I did not try to call him. How could I? What would I say? How would I say it ? Hot tears stung. I did not fight them. Anger and disappointment could not begin to explain what I felt. This man, who was nobody when I met him, who had no name or anything to his name. This man who loved me, or so it felt, this to whom I had given most of my life. This to whom I had made all sacrifices . This who made my own parents want nothing to do with me in the first five years of our marriage. This man, whose story I had literally turned from the proverbial rugs to riches and fame, now needed a young thing to complete him? Had he so much now he had not enough need of to his own family? He did not owe me, in my view, materially. He owed it to our marriage, he owed to the sacred vow he made. He owed it to our children to all that we had been through to be where we were. He owed me a little respect at least and consideration. An extramarital affair for a whole five years was something I wasn’t about to let slip that easy.

I realized why I hadn’t been overly upset with the little girl. As much as she was equally on my left side of judgement, she was not the one who was cheating on me. It was my husband I wanted to skin. He had betrayed the most beautiful thing I had. He had decided to fool me for five years. I, very trusting had fallen into his trap. He had used my resources, to provide for a girl who had no idea how it had come to be. A girl who had decided it was okay to rip where she had never sown, for as long as it was never found out. Whoever told her the night is eternal must have never experienced day break.

As I let it all out. I heard him drive in. He took forever to get into the house. The lights were blinding when he switched them back on. He stood by the door. I have never seen him so unkempt. His white shirt was not neatly tucked into his trouser and the buttons were halfway into the wrong holes. He leaned against the door his blazer crumpled under his arm, his eyes blood-red looking into me. Almost as if my head and heart were open and he could see it all. When our eyes met, I saw tears in his. Oh I wasn’t going to fall for that. For all I cared it might as well have been all fake. In as much as it looked real and I knew in my heart he was genuine, I wasn’t so sure of anything any more. He should have walked straight to his food. He should have asked for it. He should have eaten it. It was not going to kill him.No, I am not one to take a life. Just a little stomach upset to last the better part of the night. For such a strong man, my husband has very low tolerance for physical pain. Almost zero.

His little girl must have told him. I should have known it was going to be her first call. My husband’s long strong legs must have lost all will to hold him longer against the door for as if thoroughly exhausted, he slumped down onto the floor. None of us said a word for a while. Him far away from me and I, my eyes digging daggers into him. The little boy who lives in every man, his own couldn’t stay in any longer. Sitting there, he looked like a six-year-old who had been caught tongue in the sugar. He appeared really sorry. That however was the least of my concerns. I needed him to suffer. I still loved him don’t get me wrong. See when I got into this marriage, one thing was for sure. Divorce was never going to be an option. I would make it work. That did not however mean I would condone anything thrown my way.

So he sat there, listening to me as I laid out how we would make his infidelity go away. I claimed I wanted to end our marriage. I would throw him out with what was rightfully his. My  children would know it all and I did not care how they would feel about him. This broke him. But why? Hadn’t he thought of that ? He could go marry the little skinny thing for all I cared. My anger was really getting ahead of me. I reminded him the few basics I had never done before, which did not make me feel very good about myself but hey, I was justified. My husband was listening. The huge man was all tears. He crawled to my seat and when I rose he clang to my skirt like my son did when he was ten months old and starting to take his baby steps.

Clearly we weren’t going to sleep under the same roof that night or I may have just discovered I held suppressed demons within me. He had to leave until the time when I was calm enough to listen. He obliged.As if he had a choice. Again that was not how I had imagined it would go. I went to bed. I stayed awake. At about four in the morning, I received a very long angry email from the girl with whom I SHARED my husband.His prince charming  had chosen the family he had years ago (when they started their nice affair) claimed did not make him as happy as she did. He was actually happy it had come out for he had wanted to end it long ago but was afraid she could have broken his family,as she had severally warned him in her pursuit to keep him. The irony.

This girl had some confidence. She actually believed my husband would pick her. She threatened to sue for child support. She did not have to. I was going to make sure he took care of his child with his own money.The child was just an innocent victim. As for her, she would have to move to a place she could afford and a lifestyle she could pay for. My husband would no longer afford that. I did not know if she would find another sponsor first enough in case that was who she was. She was very angry with me. She actually insulted me in so many words. This time I did not admire her stupid gut. I pitied her. I was filled with disgust to overflow for her. I fell into hysterical laughter and then sleep crept soothingly into me.I was woken by the phone. It was my father. My husband had run to my father, the man who had learned to accept and love him and taught him the ropes of the family business. He had run to the man he had never defied or disappointed. The one man whose opinion mattered to him more than anyone I will ever know.The man who adores me! That is how I knew he was going to pay dearly for his mistakes and our marriage was going to work…



Add yours →

  1. wow nice piece!!!


  2. was hoping it would continue, a bit of small drama, friendship maybe…sharing a secret with her, forming a team with her…without husband knowing you know…….you’ve killed it too quick….But it’s a nice piece all the same.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I loved the first part. It was, quite frankly, brilliant. The sequel seemed a little rushed.


  4. livinglifeswalk June 29, 2016 — 10:32 am

    OK, am officially hooked


  5. And right in this story lies the ‘happily ever after’ of 90% of all affairs. It is a nice chilling read!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Is there a part 3?


  7. Nicely Written… Hows about Part 3?? I’m curious to find out what dad did…


  8. Stephie Ojiambo July 2, 2016 — 6:35 am

    Quite an ending I never foresaw…now let’s get married hah


  9. I run my own blog( and for a moment after reading your articles, I feel like quitting. Girl you are dope. Maybe we should patner and run a duo blog. What do you think?


  10. Perfectly put together. A million likes.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Brilliant


  12. Feels like there should be a part 3,umeipimia kama mutura(you’ve seen how they measure ya 10bob)….iendelee

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: