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My heart was in tatters, I did not know what to do or believe. I had never been cheated on before.
Dayo was my first love.
To save our marriage,
Dayo brought the matter to the knowledge of his family members and mine………
His efforts to save our marriage were impressive but the problem was that my heart had fallen prey to morbid fear and paranoia.
I found myself thinking every time he was away from me that he was with another woman.
To drive home my plight, my mind daily tethered on the fringes of hysteria.
Slowly I started denying him sex occasionally and began to starve him at home.
Before long, the love I had in my heart for him was replaced with bitterness and disregard.
Fear completely ate me up and I fell into darkness.
To save our marriage I began to read his e-mails and went through his phone to prove to myself that he was not cheating on me, however,the more I dug into his life, the more I found clues that perhaps there was another woman somewhere sleeping with my husband when he was not at home.
When my heart could not take it anymore, I packed my stuffs and moved out of his house.
He fought like a bull to keep me from leaving him, he cried, swore and even threatened to commit suicide, but my heart was no longer with him.
Living with him was driving me insane.
After I left him, almost every night I cried myself to sleep.
I would wake up in the morning and found my pillow wet.
Many times I thought that I gave up too easily and abandoned what mattered the most to me.
But I was too afraid of Dayo dumping me in the long run, so I slipped into my old self who perfected the art of rejecting men’s advances and cried about it all night long.
A month after I moved out of Dayo’s house, I found out I was pregnant, so I called his mother and told her.
She must have told Dayo, because he did everything he could to see me but I refused to see him, even though I cried about that.
When I made up my mind to leave his house,
I convinced my superiors at work to move me to another branch of the company both of us worked for.
My request was swiftly considered given the good relationship I enjoyed with my bosses.
So for Dayo to see me was difficult, and I made sure it stayed that way for long.
I wasn’t sure if what I was doing was right.
Everyone told me I was being stupid, including my parents.
My father was particularly angry with me for throwing my marriage away.
On several occasions he called demanding I move back to my husband’s house.
Each time I tried to explain my plight to him he would shut me up, yelling at me.
My Mother summoned meetings to get me to move back to Dayo’s house, but I wouldn’t give in.
After some time, it seemed everyone cut me a slack and allowed me to follow my way.
Even Dayo who called me off-the-hook, strangely went silent.
The only person who stayed in touch with me was Dayo’s mum.
She continued to treat me as though I had not left her son’s house.
She was exceptionally nice to me and that made me feel guilty.
Things further deteriorated about the eighth month of my pregnancy.
Dayo’s mother had called to know how I was doing;
as usual I was in tears. She decided to drive down to my house to see me.
I had not let any of Dayo’s relative know where I was living.
However, because of how much Dayo’s mum cared for me, I sent my address to her.
About an hour later she was in my house.
She didn’t like the way I looked.
Living alone I had to do everything for myself.
That evening, I had not much to eat and was too tired to fix a meal for myself.
Dayo’s mother offered to cook for me, but on a second thought she decided to go buy me food.
About a minute after she left my living room,
I heard a loud cry at the staircase. It was Dayo’s mum.
I ran out in panic, clutching my protruding tummy……….
…..to be continued……
Thank you all for your concern yesterday…