I was in JHS Three when she came to do her national service. She was so beautiful that she became the favorite of everyone in our class. Even the teachers adored her. She had big nyash, so when she turned to write on the board, everyone’s attention shifted to her back instead of the board.
She liked me. She talked to me differently and treated me like I was her brother. She said she liked how well I dressed and how neat I always was. Because of her, I washed my uniform after school every day and ironed it before wearing it to school.
It started when we were writing our BECE. She asked me to come to her house so she could give me tutorials using past questions. She kissed me on the second day, and the day before I wrote my final paper, we did it on the floor.
It didn’t happen again until she completed her national service and left town. I was in my third year in SHS when our paths crossed again on Facebook. I said hello to her in her DM. I had little hope she was going to respond, but she did, and we took the conversation to WhatsApp. A few weeks later, I was at her house. She said I was a man now, and then it happened again.
Every now and then, she would send me money and ask me to come over, and I would hurriedly go. Sometimes, she would keep me in her room all weekend.
I was in Level 100 when she got married. My heart was broken into pieces. I didn’t know my heart was so attached to her until she got pregnant. Conversations had been far and few between us, but it was okay. Months after she got married, she texted, “It doesn’t mean it’s over between us. We’ll find a way.”
So our hotel days started, and this time around, she had a rich husband, so she was able to give me big money anytime we met. This continued until a few weeks before I left campus when she told me she was pregnant. I asked, “Is it me?” She laughed and said, “How could it be you when I live with my husband every day?”
When I left campus, our conversations ceased. She later relocated with her husband even before she gave birth. I would reach out to her on Facebook, and she wouldn’t respond to my messages. Later she said, “I have a baby now, so my hands are full. We’ll talk when I’m free.”
I Called My Girlfriend And Another Man Answered The Phone
We haven’t talked again until now that I’m sharing this story. It’s been two years, but I’m unable to move on. I feel like half a man whose other half is with another woman. I’ve tried relationships with other people, but they didn’t work. Recently, I’ve had the strange feeling that I’m the father of a child I don’t know. I even dream of giving a child pocket money to go to school.
I’ve reached out to her on several occasions without any response. I can’t move on, and I can’t move backward either. My heart is broken over an affair that ended years ago. I’m beginning to feel her child is mine. I’ve even started drinking because of that. At this point, how do I rescue myself before I sink too deep into this abyss? I’m scared.
—Seth
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