Your kiss is a collection of sweet dreams.
Your love is a book of fantasies.
Your lovemaking is a treasure.
Kayode and I courted for a year. Whenever I visited him, he would kiss me and carry me in his arms from the parlour to the bed and make sweet love to me.
His kiss was a collection of sweet dreams. And his lovemaking was a treasure, because I treasured the way he touched me and made me climax.
Sometimes after our lovemaking, Kayode would tell me to pose naked on the bed and then he would take pictures of me naked with his GSM phone.
Kayode told me that I had eyes like a cat; that my skin was the colour of honey, and that my hair was as beautiful and dark as midnight.
Kayode always looked into my eyes to say I love you. I couldn’t resist him when he kissed me, because his kiss was as tender as the dawn and as fulfilling as a bright day after a dark night.
My blood pressure rose whenever I thought of Kayode. And I thought I would die of hypertension if I didn’t have Kayode in bed by my side every night.
Kayode knew from the onset that I wouldn’t be able to bear a child for him. I’d told him from the beginning that my womb was damaged due to an abortion I had many years ago, yet he had insisted on going ahead with our wedding.
I’m a Catholic and my parish priest had advised me not to hide anything about myself from a man who wanted to marry me.
So I told Kayode everything and he said he didn’t mind and that he wasn’t even interested in having children.
As a result, we wedded and lived happily for 10 years without bothering ourselves with the thought of having children until my husband died after a brief illness early this year.
In March, I buried my husband. And during the burial ceremony, I received the shock of my life. A strange woman appeared with three children and wanted to sprinkle sand on my husband’s grave as his wife.
I confronted her immediately, but she only laughed at me and introduced herself as Kayode’s second wife.
She pointed to her three children, saying; “Aishat, these are Kayode’s kids whether you like it or not.” It was then that my mother-in-law intervened and confessed that my husband had quietly taken a second wife five years ago because he knew I would never be able to bear a child for him.
I would have avoided this shame if I had heeded advice to investigate my husband’s activities before his death.
With hindsight, I now realize that I should have listened more to gossip about my husband’s adulterous life, because there is no smoke without fire.
My mother-in-law says that my husband didn’t tell me in order to save our marriage. But that is no excuse. Men are deceivers. And I feel so hurt.
May my husband’s soul rest in pieces for keeping a mistress outside our matrimonial home without my knowledge.
After all, I told him from the beginning that I won’t be able to bear him a child. And he agreed. Then why did Kayode have to be unfaithful to me?
I have decided not to mourn my late husband. Instead of mourning him, I’ll get a boyfriend immediately and move on with my life. There’s no point mourning the death of a man who betrayed me and injured my feelings so callously.
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