PART 9.
MY DESIRES ππ₯
(A story Inspired by a true life event)
Philip Zimbardo once proclaimed, “Sexual desire is the most powerful of all human desires.”
Meanwhile, Riley Shane cautioned, “Lust is a tool, while desire is a trap. If you wield lust you can take another’s soul, but if you fall into desires, another can take your soul.”
I found myself blindly consumed by my sexual desires, to the point that nothing else mattered. Now, I stand at a crossroads, realizing that my sexual relationship with Daniel held deeper meaning for him; he still loved me.
Meanwhile, to me, my relationship with Daniel was all about excitement, fun, and sexu@l exploration. Leaving my husband for him was never on my agenda.
However, his sudden confession forced me to reevaluate my choices. It transported me down memory lane, flooding my thoughts with the wonderful moments shared with Daniel in the past. I even began to imagine what life with him might be like.
Yet, my fantasies came crashing down when I unearthed memories of how he once forced me into having an abortion at the age of 22. This was during my second year at university, after two years of dating Daniel. At the time, we were cohabiting in his self-contained apartment outside of school.
It’s worth noting that although Daniel came from a broken home, his single mother, a successful businesswoman from a well-to-do family, spared no expense to provide him with the best. So he was living the big boy’s life in school.
I moved in with him because I was deeply in love, unable to bear the thought of being apart from him. However, I kept this a secret from my mother, who ignorantly continued to pay my hostel fees.
Whenever she planned to visit me in school, I made sure to spend the night in Alex’s hostel to avoid revealing that I had long abandoned my hostel and was living with a young man my age but a few months older.
A month after one of my passionate and back-to-back sexu@l encounters with Daniel, I noticed my menstruation wasn’t forthcoming. Alarmed, I confided in Daniel, who suggested it might be due to the constant use of contraceptive pills he had introduced me to. I trusted his explanation, but I soon developed a fever and began self-medicating. For weeks, I tried various drugs to combat the fever, but my menstrual flow remained absent, and the fever persisted.
So I went on to confide in Alex, and she recommended I consider infection treatment or a thorough medical checkup. I eventually went for a medical examination, confirming my pregnancy.
Hearing the news, Daniel who was terrified of becoming a father at a young age, proposed abortion, which I initially declined. In response, he became hostile, threatening to throw me from his house and end our relationship for good.
After much internal struggle, I had no choice but to give in. The aftermath of the abortion was a terrifying, excruciating experience that resulted in heavy bleeding and loss of consciousness. I was rushed to the school hospital, where miraculously, I was revived and treated.
Rediscovering these memories suddenly brought back one of the key reasons why Daniel wasn’t the right choice for me.
A few days later, my husband finally returned from his lengthy trip. The kids were equally thrilled to have him back, and I threw him a grand welcome party. Later that night, as he reconnected with the children in the living room, I found myself gazing at the picture-perfect family we had, realizing I couldn’t choose Daniel over them. It was as if watching them provided me with the clarity I had been seeking.
Eventually, my children drifted off to sleep, and after my husband and I had finished tucking them into their beds, we retreated to our bedroom.
In our bedroom, my husband sat on the edge of the bed and calmly beckoned to me.
“Hey, babe,” he said, wearing a gentle smile.
“Yes,” I replied, smiling back at him.
“Please, sit,” he requested, tapping the bed.
I sat down beside him, filled with curiosity.
“I just want to say that I’m sorry,” he began, his eyes reflecting remorse as he rubbed his palms.
“Sorry? for what?” I inquired.
“For being away for such a long time. For leaving you all alone and for dedicating most of my time and attention to my work all this while,” he apologized, looking at me with profound sincerity.
“What can I say?” I responded with a shrug, struggling to find the right words.
“Babe,” he softly called, reaching for my hand.
“I want you to know that I love you and the kids deeply and it’s true that I haven’t been a considerate husband lately, but everything I do is for the betterment of all of you. The truth is, Alex told me about your struggles lately and how you’ve been unable to share them with me because of fear of being misunderstood. I am deeply sorry for giving you the impression that I don’t care about your well-being or that you are insignificant to me. However, I’m doing all of this to shield you and our kids from ever experiencing the hardships I endured as a child.”
“I don’t understand. What hardship are you talking about?” I asked, genuinely puzzled and curious.
“Darling, I didn’t come from a privileged background. My parents were so poor that securing three meals a day was a luxury. My two younger siblings and I shared a cramped single room with our parents. At the tender age of 10, I witnessed my immediate younger sister’s life slip away in my mother’s arms because we couldn’t afford the surgery she needed for her appendix. It ruptured in her stomach, leading to her agonizing demise. A year later, my father succumbed to high blood pressure which eventually led to his demise, leaving me, my younger brother, and my mother to battle for survival. We endured unimaginable hardships. Despite all of these, my mother insisted I receive an education. I didn’t disappoint her, even though the journey was difficult. Since then, I’ve labored tirelessly to ensure that she, my younger brother, you, and our children live a comfortable life. All my efforts are directed toward shielding my children from the dreadful poverty I experienced. I apologize for not handling this in the right way and for making you feel neglected and lonely in the process. It was all for our collective well-being,” he confessed.
“But why didn’t you share this aspect of your life with me? Kennedy, we dated for six months, and by the grace of God, we’ve been married for five years, yet you never saw it fit to reveal such a significant part of yourself to your wife?” I exclaimed, my shock evident.
“I’m deeply sorry, Vivian. I genuinely understand…”
“No, in fact, you don’t fully grasp the extent of the damage your reluctance to open up has caused me. For heaven’s sake, it led me to take unimaginable actions based on countless assumptions, thinking you simply didn’t care,” I retorted.
“I apologize, and I promise you that this will never happen again. Henceforth, I promise to be fully active in my duty as your husband and father of our kids. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me,” he earnestly implored, his eyes reflecting remorse.
To Kennedy, he believed I was merely upset about him being away for long. But In reality, I was furious with myself for allowing unfounded assumptions to lead me into an affair with Daniel while he was away on a business trip. Right now, it’s obvious he had my best interest at heart and my foremost concern was figuring out how to free myself from the mess I had unwittingly fallen into. But will Daniel easily let go?
To be continued…
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Here comes the problem,
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