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Confession: What I did to my wife will shock you. Can God ever forgive me?

What I did to my wife will shock you. Can God ever forgive me-dailyfamily.ng

When she hit her enormous hips against my small waist, I knew it was deliberate. She wanted to get me aroused again and she did succeed because at that moment I wanted to lift her from the ground and race to my black Lexus parked at the entrance of her house.

How many times have we had sex in the back seat. I could feel my body on fire again. I’m certain Bimpe sensed that I was tense because it was at that time she began to play with my fingers. Even in the silhouette, I could see her curved lips calling for my attention. I remembered how I had sat on the floor of my bathroom and with my pencil drawn in splendid details those lips.

When we got close to my car, I stopped and pulled her close. It was a cold night and as I enjoyed the warmth of her body, I thought about all that the Pastor had said the previous day. How he had suspected my affair with Bimpe surprised me. He had been greatly upset and had warned me to stay away the widow.

This was the reason why I had come to see Bimpe this night. To tell her we would have to lay low for a while until the rumors died. But holding her close, I knew staying away from her was going to be a great torture to my body.

‘Kiss me please.’ Bimpe pleaded

I bent to kiss her.

‘Mummy!’

I pulled away quickly. Bimpe’s five-year-old daughter stood there watching us. Even in the dark, I had a feeling that she understood what was going on and would one day reveal our secrets.

I climbed into the car and drove out. Time to return to my boring wife. A woman I once adored. I sighed when memories of this woman whose sight once made me stare endlessly from behind the keyboard every Sunday morning, flashed my mind. I had chased Kike like a starving lion pursuing a robust antelope. My eyes had been shut to every lady in the church so I could give her my full attention and finally I got it after a beautiful proposal at the Palms Beach on a Saturday morning.

I remember that day clearly as if it had happened yesterday. Seyi, the church guitarist along with four of my best choristers stood at attention ready to bring to birth the song we had composed for that great day. When her slender self, in a red gown, sauntered towards the swimming pool where I was standing, I let out two quick breath.

Would I survive if she refused my proposal?

My heart was thumping so hard I was afraid she could hear it.

I knelt before her and flipped the ring box opened and in a sonorous bass tone, I sang out the question, “Will you marry me?”

I waited.

She smiled revealing the wide gap between her front teeth and a dimple on her left cheek. She nodded her head and retrieved the glittering silver ring from the box, sliding it into her third finger. Immediately, my friends filed out and began their prepared musical rendition. She covered her mouth with her hands, speechless.

When they finished, I held her hands and said, “Thank you for choosing to spend the rest of your life with me. I promise I’ll love you forever.”

Nine months later, we exchanged vows. Two days after that, we were lodged at Royal Suite for our honeymoon and I remember waking up long before she did, my hands on my chin, staring at her lovely eyes held by dark neatly curved lashes. My eyes swallowed her firm physique, the same body that had brought confusion to me from the first day I set my eyes on her. Thankfully she was a deep sleeper and so I softly touched her dark ebony skin before reaching for the straight hair that reached down to her shoulders.

But by the end of that year, Kike had lost all the warmth and spark that drew me to her. Her glowing skin became dry, her eyes didn’t seem to have that thrilling effect on me again and I quickly began to notice fats bulging out from her sides especially after she lost our child. I was sick to my stomach at the mere sight of her and I shuddered in disgust every time she playfully held me.

One day as I watched her dress up, I noticed stretch marks on her thighs. I hurried out of the room and left the house. I returned at midnight after endlessly driving round town.

When she asked me if I didn’t love her anymore, I said I didn’t know if I did. When she sought me out on the bed, I pulled away and the times I would perform my sexual duties, it was more like rape than the enjoyment it was supposed to bring. I could hear her crying softly afterwards, her face turned to the wall but I didn’t seem to care. At this time, I had begun to nurse feelings for Bimpe and I badly wanted out of my marriage but I feared that I would be relieved of my position as the choirmaster.

As I sat behind the wheels, listening to Michael Smith’s ‘Run to you’, I began to see my cruelty and selfishness.I saw God sit beside me laying out my impending doom for despising my wife with whom we had vowed under Him four years ago. For the first time, my wife’s effort to make me comfortable and happy became vivid for the first time. I remember the number of times she would go behind the house exercising just to keep in shape. How could I be so heartless that for three years I never said ‘thank you’ to her for having my dresses ironed promptly and preparing my meals even on the days she was down with an illness.

I realized how much I had denied her love and attention and for the first time, I saw this woman with a beautiful heart. My resilient wife who had stood by me when I lost my job, supporting me with her meagre salary and never sparing me those encouraging words until I got another job.

“Oh God, I’m sorry.” I cried, hitting my fist on the steering. “I’m going to make my wrongs right.”

As the traffic cleared out, I drove speedily towards the wine store. My heart was racing by the time I pulled up in front of the shop. I dashed in, picked up our favourite, the same we had popped during our honeymoon, and dashed out, without stopping to collect my balance of 800 naira.

I am going to lay sprout on the ground and ask for her forgiveness and for the rest of my life, I am never going to look at another woman. Tonight we will have a wonderful outdoor dinner. Whatever it would take, I am going to repay for all the wrongs I have done.

I parked my car outside the gate and rushed to my flat, rehearsing my words of fog

I entered. Everywhere was silent.

Baby where are you? I muttered.

I checked our room but didn’t find her there. I went to the kitchen. It was clean and sparkling but no sign of Kike.

For goodness sake, where could she be?

I opened the wardrobe and found her clothes neatly folded. I heaved a sigh of relief. Thank God, I uttered.

I dialled her number. Her phone was on the bed.

“Kike!” I shouted. No response.

Or has she gone to report to the Pastor?

Now I was ready to confess and gladly step away from the position that I held in the church. I left the room for the Pastor’s house.As I turned on the engine of my car, a thought flashed across my mind and I remembered that on several occasions I had seen into Kike cuddled up on the bathroom floor, panting softly after a period of long cries.

I got out of the car and ran back into the house. If she was there, I would carry her in my arms and hold her there till she wakes up in surprise and then I’ll sing to her ears the depth of my undying love for her.

I opened the bathroom and behold there was Kike lying on the bathroom floor. I smiled and walk gently towards her, ready to pick her up.

I froze.

Kike’s eyes were opened and her mouth was covered with a foamy white substance. A small bottle lay beside her and some tablets were scattered on the floor. There was a note in her hand. I picked it up, my hands shaking.

My dearest,

What you married isn’t sufficient for you anymore and therefore I see no reason for my existence. I hope you find lasting love in Bimpe. I can no longer bear this depression and pain. Goodbye my husband.

Kike.

****

A year has passed and I’ve not been able to get a hold of myself. I can hear the sounds of Christmas bells but I’m shivering from the cold now as I stand by her grave, willing a miracle to happen and hoping my precious wife, Kike, will dust the sand off her body and say, ‘Sweet heart, I was only kidding. I wanted to know if you truly love me.’

Written by Ife-grace.

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