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I thought I was married to a hardworking man for years. Always “traveling for business,” John will be in Abuja next month and Port Harcourt this week. After spending two weeks or perhaps a month there, he would return home with a variety of perfumes and a long list of charming justifications.

I never had any significant suspicions. After all, he sent money, called every night, and even prayed with me over the phone. He gave the impression that I was the only lady in his entire universe.

until I went to Uyo for my cousin’s wedding.

Late that night, I saw a familiar automobile drive by as I went to grab suya. It was just like my husband’s.

I ignored it until I saw him carrying a woman’s child while holding her by the waist.

I followed them.

They strolled in as a family, hugged, kissed, and entered a complex.

I stood cold outside.

I knocked the following morning after waiting. His mouth fell open when he opened the door. He was mute.

The woman asked, “Who is she?”

I replied, “I’m his wife.”

Everything scattered.

Following his two-year marriage to her, he later acknowledged that he “loved us both.”

The treachery and the fact that I nearly named our baby daughter after him are the two things that bother me the most right now.

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