“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). I left my hour session with the counselor knowing I wouldn’t be going back. It seemed her counsel hinged on me believing in Jesus, and well…it just didn’t make that much sense to me. It felt good to talk it…
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18).
I left my hour session with the counselor knowing I wouldn’t be going back. It seemed her counsel hinged on me believing in Jesus, and well…it just didn’t make that much sense to me. It felt good to talk it out, and get all that emotion off my chest, but like she said…I can’t be good in my own strength, unless God helps me. And for that to happen, I would have to believe in God, so we were kind of back to square one by the end of it!
But it left an impression on me though… I know it’s probably a bit superstitious, but I have been praying that if God is real, He should prove Himself to me undeniably. And I continued to try to resist my urges, and focus on “whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable” like she advised me to, based on advice from the Bible. It worked for a while. About three days actually.
I was disappointed with myself when I finally gave in again and presented myself at Tony’s apartment, in need of a good servicing. He said he had missed me, and when I entered his arms, it was like I had returned home. I am tired of fighting who I am. I’m tired of trying to be something I’m not. I’m tired of being miserable. So, I’ve decided to just live and enjoy myself…and whatever life has to offer me.
So some days after, as I laid in bed, sweating and panting after a passionate afternoon romp with Tony in his apartment, I thought more about him. I’d never known a man like him before, who just knew what to do to a woman in bed. He is definitely the best I have ever had, and he is a sight for sore eyes too. We met one day at our local gym, and I couldn’t resist the urge to jump his bones.
We’ve been sexing for about two months now, and it has become an everyday thing. I mean, this guy has stamina and libido and mad skills. If not for the fact that I know he is a whore like me, I would have thought he was “the one”. I can really see myself settling down with him, because he speaks my sexual language fluently. Though he isn’t as financially well off as Ope, and he isn’t nearly as humble, I know I would be content with him.
I got up from the bed, having regained my strength and went over to him, where he stood at the balcony smoking a cigarette. I wanted more. Before I returned home to play wife, I wanted more orgasms.
He looked at me, knowing what I wanted and smiled. “Round two?” I nodded, racing back to the bed, giggling like a teenager. He put out his cigarette and flicked it off the balcony, before joining me in bed. “You are going to wear me out!”
Oh, how I wish. Then maybe he wouldn’t need to keep other women around. Who knew I could be jealous?
Round two was even more exhilarating than round one, and he brought me not one but two orgasms within minutes of each other. The more I slept with him, the more I knew I could never be content with Ope. The initial guilt and shame from my affairs have officially worn out, and I don’t even think I love him anymore. I think it’s time I admit that I married the wrong man.
“What are you thinking about?” Tony asked, breaking into my thoughts.
I sighed. “My husband. I am thinking of leaving him.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
“You have?” I raised my head slightly from where it laid on his chest, surprised.
“Yeah. You’re wasted on a guy like him, Missy. I think you and I deserve to see if this is the real deal.”
I sat up in bed and looked at Tony, trying to contain my excitement. I couldn’t believe what he was saying. Was he proposing that we commit to each other? “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, babe. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you those days you didn’t come over. What do you think? You want to be my girlfriend?” Tony asked, tracing his fingers along my arm affectionately.
I was excited about his proposal, but I was a little afraid to believe that he would be faithful. “What about the others?” I asked, pointedly.
“I’ll cut them off if you’ll leave Ope. You can even come and stay with me.”
I looked in his eyes, and I knew he meant it. I was tired of not being happy. I could be happy with Tony. “Okay, let’s do it,” I said, and kissed him passionately.
So in the afternoon, I packed out of my husband’s house, and left him a note, saying I couldn’t do it anymore, and that he deserved better. In the evening, I returned to Tony’s apartment with three suitcases of my most valuable possessions, ready to settle in. Tony’s place was much smaller, so most of my things had to say in the suitcases, until he could make room for me.
Tony returned from work with Chinese take-out, and we had our first meal as a couple. It was a bit odd, how easily we came together. At the back of my mind, I wondered how long it would take before I got bored…as I always did with such relationships.
At about nine o’clock, the doorbell rang, and Tony went to get it, while I washed the dishes we had used.
“Promise!” I heard Ope shout at the door. “You packed out of our home?” His voice had a ludicrous tone.
“Hey! You can’t just barge in here!” Tony pushed Ope at the door, but Ope must have been stronger, because he easily pushed Tony to the ground and climbed over him to get to me.
“How did you find me here?” I asked.
“Shouldn’t you be asking yourself what you’re doing here? You’re married, remember? To me!”
“It’s over, Ope. Please, just let me go. We were a mistake.”
“I didn’t come here to ask you, Promise, I’m telling you. You’re coming home with me.” He carried my three suitcases and threw them out of the front door. “Is that everything?”
“Ope, you’re acting crazy! You can’t force me to be your wife, when I don’t want to be. Please stop making a fool of yourself and go!” I begged him.
He approached me sternly, and the look in his eyes was frightening. Something had snapped. In that moment, Tony got between us. “Are you bloody deaf? She said no! Missy is mine now.”
Again, with the supernatural strength, Ope picked up Tony with his shirt and threw him across the room, as though he was a piece of cardboard! Tony slammed into some shelves on his way down. In the next move, Ope had me over his shoulder, and we were out of the apartment.
He pressed for the elevator and put me down, before going back for the suitcases and throwing them in with me. I didn’t dare to move. I couldn’t believe what had gotten into him.
When we got downstairs, he had me carry one of my suitcases, while he carried the other two to the car. The journey home was short, seeing as we lived just down the street from Tony. When we got home, he carried me from the car, lovingly this time, while he left my bags in the car. I told him I could walk, but he insisted on carrying me. He placed me gently on our bed, and then returned to retrieve my bags from the car. I didn’t want to tell him that I had left some things at Tony’s place.
He came back to find me sitting quietly on our bed. He left me there and went to the bathroom, while I wondered what must be going through his head. Did he really think he could force me to stay with him? I was preparing my speech for when he would return, so that he would know that his efforts were futile.
When he came back, I lost the hateful words that I had prepared to say. He didn’t say anything either. He just started to undress me. I resisted him. “If you think I’m going to sleep with you, you’ve got another thing coming!” I barked.
But he didn’t stop. He undressed me completely and then carried me, lovingly again, to the bathroom. What the hell is he doing, I thought?
When we got to the bathroom, I saw that he had drawn me a hot bath. He placed me gently in the water, and began to wash me. As he washed me, he cried silent tears. I wanted to resist him and to insult, to dissuade him from carrying on his fantasy, but I was somehow mesmerized by his gentleness, when I had just seen him exude the greatest physical strength ever.
“Why are you doing this?” I finally found my voice. “Why don’t you just let me go?”
“Because I promised you my love, for better or for worse, until death do us part.”
“But I released you from your promise. The Bible says adultery is grounds for a divorce…” I said, feeling like I was putting a nail on my own coffin.
“You are not the one to release me. What God has joined together, let not man separate!” Ope said. He lifted my legs, one by one, to wash my feet. “Promise, there are more ways to be loved than sexually. Do you think that man, or any man could love you more than I do? Do you think they would fight for you like I do? Why would you choose such cheap love over the real thing?”
He lifted me to stand on the bath tub, and rubbed me dry with a towel. He carried me out of the tub and placed me on my feet in the bedroom, where he continued patting me dry.
“I am who I am, Ope. It is no use. You will just end up hating me, when you realise that you can’t fix me. Can’t we just let ourselves be happy?” I reasoned with him.
“Promise, I would rather be miserable with you, than be happy without you.” His words broke my heart anew. “My darling wife, will you please kiss me?”
He was indeed my match, as stubborn as I. So I gave up the fight that night and kissed him, remembering the first time I kissed him with all of me. That day, I was ready to give up sex to be with him, having longed for him for years. But now, I wanted to give him up for the sex I missed. Why was love not enough?
Ope kissed me and held me all night, as though he was afraid I’d leave in the middle of the night. Before he slept, he spoke to me softly, saying “Promise, God loves you so much, far more than I do. I wish you would know that kind of love. That’s the kind of love that will make me love you, even if it would kill me. I will love you…with my last breath. Please don’t leave me again. Please fight for us. Fight for what you really deserve. I love you, Promise.”
I cried quietly in his arms, listening to every word as if it was a lullaby, and hoping that the words will do their magic and fix me. I was still thinking about what he said even after he had slept off. That night, I repented of my decision to leave my husband. But I didn’t know if I would feel the same in the morning. I knew myself enough not to trust myself.
Again I prayed that God would help me, if He was real…so I could do what felt impossible for me to do and love and honour my husband the way he deserved. I don’t know when I eventually slept, amidst tears, but I had pleasant dreams.
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