CONFESSIONS OF A CHEATING WIFE (4)

My body trembled whenever Osas approached me.
I want to say it trembled in a good way or tremble is not the right word to use in this case. It was like a craving that will never go away. Osas was an addiction for a long time. Sometimes I felt like I needed therapy to get over him. I felt pity for any woman who came across him because he was like a drug. An overdose of Osas still won’t kill, that was how toxic he was, it was the craving for more of him that was dangerous.
I stood still.
“I know you don’t bite,” I responded slightly embarrassed because he caught me taking a step or two back. The couple standing beside me walked into the elevator. A few more people walked into the elevator and the doors closed. Osas and I were left standing in front of the elevator doors.
“You look great,” He said as he admired me from head to toe. I knew it. I killed my look today. The saying “dress like you are going to run into your enemy”, it works.
“Thanks,” I responded with a sense of urgency. I was meeting up someone and ended up running into someone else. He didn’t respond I tried my best to avoid his eyes. I could feel his eyes on my chest. It was like he was going back and forth between my face and my chest.
I stared at the elevator doors praying that the elevator will come back down and open up so I could walk away from Osas. A young woman with two children stepped in front of the elevator. She made eye contact with me and smiled, I smiled back uncomfortably. She held the hands of both children firmly. The boy of maybe about four years was held with her right hand, and a little girl of about two years was firmly held with her left hand.

A part of me prayed that she would get the cue that I was uncomfortable and try to engage me in a conversation, but I was with someone that was not possible. I prayed my phone would ring so I could excuse myself.
“Listen don’t be like that please,” He said as he looked pleadingly into my eyes.

This was the part of the conversation I didn’t want to have.

Not in my beautiful red dress standing in my white pumps, not here not now.
The doors to the elevator opened with the ding sound. The lady and her two small children headed towards the elevator.
“Excuse me,” I said to him “I have somewhere to be” I told him as I walked towards the elevator.

He grabbed my arm, I felt the familiar tingle, the type that I felt when he would hold my hand romantically, but this time it wasn’t romantic. It was just the fact that he touched me. I responded to every touch even though it wasn’t erotic.

Was something actually really wrong with me?

Did I need total cleansing from anything that had to do with him at all?

I thought I had healed from him having any form of effect on me, but I guess it wasn’t so.
“Please stop,” I said to him. “I have a meeting.”
“Can we have a drink this weekend?” He suggested.
He must have some nerve. I thought.
How did he think it’s okay for him to ask me to go out to have a drink with him? before today I hadn’t seen him almost eighteen months.
“No” I responded as I walked towards the elevator. The doors were pulling in close. He still held my hand firmly, I could not understand why. The lady in the elevator put her hands through the doors to prevent them from closing. She had impatient look on her face. I actually thought it was kind of nice for her to wait for me. This little meeting with Osas was going to take a little longer than I expected so I motioned for her to let the doors close and she can go up without me.
“Osas, What do you want from me? “ I asked the question. It didn’t sound so sincere even from me asking it, The question was meant for me. What did I want from him? Why was I still entertaining him? I could have just walked away and acted like we never knew each other or met, but instead I stood and engaged in the conversation with him and now I was asking him what he wanted from me. how hypocritical.
“I just want to spend time with you, we haven’t communicated in a while so I guess it’s just a good way to catch up that’s all.” he said so casually.

He had a whole lot of nerve.

“What makes you think I want to spend time with you?” I asked.

I was getting irritated by the fact that he felt he could waltz back into my life and everything would be cool.

“You always enjoy my company,’ he responded confidently with a smirk.

I gave him the side eye.

He laughed.

I caught myself smiling.

“Listen I know I have not been a good sport and things panned out badly between us, but maybe we can sit and talk.”

Was he trying to convince me?

“No” I said and took my hand off his grip. A tall, man was standing three feet from me waiting for the elevator. The elevator door opened and I rushed into it without looking back. I held my purse and closed my eyes. I heard foot movements of people coming into the elevator. I shut my eyes closed real tight, I didn’t want to see Osas. I heard the doors close and slowly opened my eyes after realizing I had not pressed the button to the floor I was going to.

Osas was standing right beside me.

THE CURSE

“Wakey wakey”

I said as I strolled into our bedroom.

Giselle lay in bed, looking ever so beautiful even as she slept. Her beautiful tresses were spread across the pillow. She was such a beautiful view to wake up to every morning. Without make up, she looked gorgeous.

It was time to get dressed. We had a long day ahead of us. Our wedding was coming up in a few days. One hundred guests had seats at the beautiful wedding to celebrate our union.

The past few months were hectic. It was one drama or the other. It came from people who were close to us.

Jealousy

Anger

Resentment

Giselle finally found love, and all hell was let loose. She had a child with the man she found love with, and it became a problem. We had spent weeks praying together and going to therapy. The therapy sessions were brutal. We had to be vulnerable with our therapist, who did a great job stripping us off the walls we had built around ourselves.

At a point, I felt she was going through postpartum depression. She had different moods every day. Some days she would not want to hold the beautiful child we made together, Henrietta.

She was the happiest six month old human I had ever met. She had her mom’s beautiful eyes and smile. How could she look at the beautiful baby and not want to hold her? After a while, she was convinced she was not a good mother, and maybe someone else deserved to be Henrietta’s mom. It broke me.

I, on the other hand, had my issues with Stephanie, who was Giselle’s cousin. We were engaged to be married, but we broke up. I met Giselle and things got heated up and then complicated. Stephanie told everyone that Giselle snatched me from her. She said all sorts of nonsense about me. I tried to talk to her, but she refused. Giselle didn’t care. It put me in an uncomfortable position. Giselle was ready to ride and die for me. Family gatherings became like funerals for me. I felt like a Judas who had put two cousins asunder. If Giselle wasn’t pregnant with my child, maybe Stephanie would not have been so angry. I got used to the mean mugging, the snide comments, and the cold treatment from some family members. Stephanie’s parents were indifferent.

I stared at her as she slept. I didn’t want us to be late for our appointment. We had an hour drive, and we had to be there by noon. We also had to meet with the marriage counselor at 3pm, and dinner with her parents by 5pm. The nanny was downstairs. She watched Henrietta everyday from 9am till 5pm. I asked her to stay while we went for dinner with Giselle’s parents, and promised her overtime money. She was more than happy to oblige.

“Giselle wake up.” I called out as I walked into the closet. We had a huge walk-in closet in our bedroom. Her clothes occupied more than half of the closet.

I picked out a white shirt, black slacks, and my favorite Ferragamo belt. My shoe rack was by the door. I would wear my favorite ones. I could not understand why Giselle was still asleep. She always took her time to do everything. She had her morning routine, and she had slept through her alarm. She didn’t wake up to read her Bible in the closet, she didn’t go running three miles. She was not listening to her podcast. She must have been exhausted from running around yesterday.

“Babe,” I called out as I walked towards the bed to wake her up. She was still.

I leaned in to kiss her forehead. Normally she would stir a bit, open her eyes and smile at me. It didn’t happen. She was not breathing.

“Giselle” I called out and shook her.

She didn’t move. I felt for a pulse. There was none.

Giselle was…… dead.

Confessions of a Cheating Wife (3)

How do you look into the eyes of someone you have betrayed?

I walked slowly towards Yemi. I had the bed sheet draped around my body. He didn’t turn to acknowledge my presence but I was sure he knew I was behind him.

“Why our bed?” he said facing the window.

I could not say anything.

I had to ask myself that question. Why did I decide to defile our marital bed?

I wanted to speak, but the words could not come out of my mouth clearly. Yemi was patient and kind. How could I blow that up?

Osas was the only reason I would blow my marriage up with Yemi.

Osas was nothing like Yemi. He was just good for sex. Today, I got caught and from then on things would never go back to being the same.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, there is clearly no excuse for what happened in there.” I responded. I had to own up to this, it wasn’t fair for him to suffer emotionally for my infidelity. He had given me basically everything including the assurance for the growth of a healthy relationship.

He didn’t turn to look at me. He stared out of the window. It hurt to know that someone who could so easily look me in the eye avoided mine.

What was he thinking?

  • *************************************************

Running into Osas after a few years of no contact was a curse. Osas was my guilty pleasure but nothing good was going to come out of our encounters. The last time we saw each other, it ended on a bad note. I decided to accept my loss and move on.

He had cheated again for the umpteenth time and did not want to take responsibility or even apologize. It was my cue to leave. Any woman with common sense would leave such a situation the first time such a thing happened. I guess my common sense was lacking.

I was at Glass House, a tall building with over a hundred floors. I was meeting up a colleague for dinner. I walked up towards the elevator doors. There were three people standing ahead of me, a young lady who had her attention on her cell phone scree. The other two were a couple, the woman was pregnant, the man stood beside her and held her close, rubbing her back gently.

I craved for this type of love from a man for a long time until i met Yemi. Yemi was the best thing that had ever happened to me in such a long time. We waited for the elevator to come down, we knew it would take a while as there were other floors and other people on those floors would want to get. There were three other elevator doors. A few minute later, one of the doors opened up, a woman in yellow shorts, a tank top with a Jane Fonda look walked out of the elevator, the next person to come out was a familiar face.

Osas.

I stopped dead in my tracks. If there was ever a day to look so good, it was today. I had on a red dress, white pumps from Nine West. My make up was well done. I just felt the need to look good, and I pulled it off effortlessly. I pulled my long hair up into a high bun, the hair Osas loved pulling during sex. He looked good. His beard was well groomed, his barber had given him a good hair cut. He had on brown pants and a white long sleeved shirt. His eyes were on me.

“Hey.” he said.

I nodded in response. He walked towards me, I could smell his cologne. The familiar scent that memories..

“Hi” I responded taking a step back. I didn’t want him hugging me. He noticed what I had done.

“I am not going to bite you, why are you taking a step back?” he asked as he walked closer. I was losing my defenses. My body began to tremble, it seemed all so familiar.

Confessions of a Cheating Wife (2)

Before I decided to throw my marriage into the boondocks, everything was going well.

I lacked nothing.

I did not have to work, it was an option, not a necessity.

I had pocket money.

I went on lavish vacations or rather baecations.

The luxury goods in my closet have valued the price of a full boutique.

I was happy, got regular sex, great foot rubs, and massages.

I could be described as one of the few women who found a husband on a platter of gold.

I guessed I was positioned in the right place and time to receive him. There was only one pending question in my head.

I took the question into my marriage.

Did I deserve him?

Yemi had the opportunity to marry someone else but instead, he chose me. Rita, was a Kalabari girl whom his parents had approved of for him to marry. I remember seeing her once at a wedding. She was fair-skinned with long, thick, natural type 4 C hair. She was a medical doctor who was practicing in a private hospital. Yemi was not interested in marrying Rita, much to his parent’s dismay. Rita moved on quickly. I thought there would be drama, or she would come fighting me for Yemi, but she never did.

Yemi and I got married three years later, it was a struggle, we had broken up and made up so many times. There was only one reason why I was doing that.

Osas.

Yes, I had a serious weakness for Osas. We were childhood sweethearts, and I lost my virginity to him. We did not quite work out no matter how hard I tried to force things to work. We were always in turmoil, and it took so much in me not to kill him. I caught him sleeping with my room mate from school and I cut him loose.

I never got over what happened and every opportunity I could find to contact him, I applied. Osas could not be bothered with me. He had a great supply of women at his disposal. All he had to do was tell them he was an American citizen, which was true. He was born in the US. Those women flocked to him. Every time I saw him, it was one female or another. I never saw him with the same female twice.

It hurt.

A few months later I met Yemi.

Yemi told me, he was going to be my husband from the very first day he saw me, and he did not fail to keep the promise despite all odds. Rita was my greatest odd.

*******************************************************************

The look on Yemi’s face as he stood in the doorway broke my heart. I could explain anything else, but I could not explain having another man in our matrimonial bed. I pulled away from Osas as I grabbed the bedsheet and wrapped it around my body. Yemi walked away, I heard the footsteps as he walked briskly down the stairs. How could I have been so careless? He never came home at this time. It seemed Murphy’s Law was operating in my life today and it would probably get worse.

I looked at Osas and pointed at the clothes we careless the on the floor and motioned to him to put his clothes on and leave my house.

Osas looked shocked.

I slid off the bed with the bedsheet draped around my body and ran barefoot down the stairs. Yemi stood in the living room facing the window. Shame engulfed me. How could I even look him in the face

SURVIVING R.KELLY:ABUSE

I watched the Surviving R Kelly series on TV yesterday.

It left an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. Most people who were in the docuseries told their individual stories as women, as survivors. They survived his abuse. It was painful to watch. It will haunt them for life.

In the beginning, some twisted inner circle member of R Kelly’s family abused him, even his brother said the same thing. They just won’t say who did it. We all have someone in the inner caucus that was always willing to play dirty with kids.

Caroy ( R Kelly’s brother) said he told Robert who shrugged it off and told him it never happened. According to Caroy, if his brother didn’t believe or rather was in denial of what had happened, how would an adult handle it?

He couldn’t tell his mom, she would not believe him. I don’t understand why an adult would think a child would sit down and make up such a sick story especially when its happening to them.

In the light of this, I want to be the kind of parent that my kid will run to, and tell anything especially if they were touched inappropriately. I want them to be able to tell me what is going on in their lives without feeling defensive or feeling that i would judge them. ~Me

Our parents were always judgmental about things like this especially because molestation was not normal, they were taboos and so they would rather not discuss it.

This is where our generation comes in, we have to break the cycle of sweeping things under the rug or not discussing certain issues because you have to be a certain age.

This is 2019, a ten year old knows certain sexually behaviors that a fifty year old woman refuses to discuss. In a ten year old mind, the only reason it cannot be spoken about openly is because of seeing an adult as an authority and those things cannot be spoken about.

If you got involved in things like this and I mean sex, it would always be your fault, that is the wrong approach. It sounds more like snitching would get you as the snitch in trouble. Most of the time it always does especially when the adult is not held accountable.

His music teacher said that his sexuality was in his music.

He sang about it. He was 26 years old when his first album 12 Play was released.

I was 9 years old then and it was inappropriate for me to listen to but then again it was catchy,it was normal, my peers listened to his music and that album was successful and further launched him into his music career. “Body’s calling” and “Bump and Grind” were my favorite songs from that album.It was in the same way I believed that listening to Adina Howard’s “Freak like me” was also cool.

Kelly is not called the “Pied Piper of R & B” for nothing. If you were into children’s books, you would know that the Pied Pier would use music to draw children to him and they would go for several miles until they got lost. Kelly did this with underage girls, teenagers.

I have always had a problem with men who date girls that have more than a decade age gap especially when they are under twenty one.

It doesn’t apply to a forty year old man dating a twenty eight year old girl because she is old enough to make such decisions, she has probably gone to college and established herself in a profession and is now old enough to make decisions in regards to who she dates and wants to spend the rest of her life with.

I just can’t understand a thirty year old man and a fifteen year old girl, that is just pure madness. I believe the reason why a man would do this is Control.