My Military Boyfriend and I episode 14

**MY MILITARY BOYFRIEND AND I**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

“I am leaving with my kids,” I declared.

“You’re going nowhere with my kids. You must be crazy to think that I will let you take them away,” he said, rushing downstairs in a rage.

I had a two-year-old baby girl and a seven-year-old baby boy. Beside me stood his first child, who was now twelve years old. When he saw me parking, he insisted on coming along. I refused, but he was so stubborn that I eventually relented. Over the past years, I had learned to treat him like my own child, loving him just as he loved me.

As his father approached, I quickened my footsteps and ran out. He chased after me, catching up with us at the gate outside. There, he ordered his gateman not to open the gate for us. I held my four-year-old on my right and supported the baby on my left shoulder. As I rushed to open the gate myself, a heavy slap landed on my right neck. My two-year-old, who was already sleeping, woke up and started crying.

**He forcefully took the baby from me and gave him to my stepchild, scolding him to take his siblings inside. I told myself I couldn’t let this man take my children from me just like that. He had always gotten away with everything, but not today. I charged at him angrily with blows that felt like patting. On the other hand, he got annoyed and pushed me away several times, but to no avail. I kept coming, slapping and kicking him, insulting him: “You’re a useless ingrate. A disgrace of a man.” My anger had boiled over, and I had no room for peace. He couldn’t take this anymore, and he fell directly into my trap. He pounded on me. The only sounds I could hear were blows on my head. He held my neck and pressed it really hard; I was scared I might not make it. “Oga, please don’t kill madam. You’ll go to prison.” Immediately, he released my neck and continued hitting me until I felt a heavy blow land on my right eye, followed by a sharp pain that left my head ringing. It felt like a hammer was used on me. My vision blurred, and I lost consciousness.**

**I woke up that evening and found myself on the hospital bed with a bandage over my eye and other bruises. He was not around, so I quickly called my sister. When she arrived, she was shocked to see me in that condition. She asked what happened, and I told her everything. She took pictures of my wounds.**

**My sister told me to wait for her. I sat there on the bed, wondering and pondering the things I could do to take my children away from that monster. When I was feeling a little better, I was discharged from the hospital. I wanted to go back to Chris’ place and look for other means to get my children away. My sister informed me that my kids were no longer at his house but were with someone safer, away from their father.”
“But sis, how did you do it?” I asked, my surprise evident.

“Don’t worry about that. I went to his place yesterday when I left the hospital. I found him at home with his mom, who was taking care of the kids,” my sister replied.

“What happened?” I asked, my excitement growing.

“I showed him these bruises of yours and promised not only to file for a divorce but also to send the images to all the bloggers. He knows how important marriage is for someone of his status,” she explained.

“And he just accepted all your terms and conditions?” I inquired.

“Of course!” she said confidently.

“Besides the fact that he’s a general, he’s well-known in town. He’s often invited to talk shows and TV programs to discuss his love life and marriage,” she added.

I was aware of my husband’s so-called popularity, but one thing I couldn’t tolerate was his inhumane behavior. With the influence of these images, I could easily get away with anything.

My husband’s acceptance of responsibility for the pregnancy marked a turning point in our lives. I distanced ourselves from him, seeking refuge in a safer environment, in the house he bought for us, with my children.

He took to the media, spinning a tale of my supposed attack, justifying my departure. The public sympathized with the battered wife and her innocent kids.

But behind the scenes, the truth unraveled. The girl he had impregnated stepped forward, revealing his deceitful ways. His carefully crafted facade crumbled, exposing the darkness within. His reputation shattered, and he lost everything—the wealth, the power, and the respect he once commanded.

As fate would have it, his mother suffered a sudden heart attack. Her passing left him bereft, a man stripped of both family and fortune. Guilt and regret gnawed at his soul, a heavy burden he could no longer bear.

And so, our paths diverged. I focused on healing, nurturing my children, and rebuilding our lives. We planted new roots, far from the shadows of our past. Love and resilience became our armor, shielding us from the storms that had once threatened to consume us.

In the quiet moments, I wondered if redemption was possible for a man like him. Perhaps someday, he’d find his own path to healing. But for now, we walked forward, scars and all, into a brighter future—one where strength was measured not by fists but by the courage to break free.
He comes home sometimes to spend time with his kids. I keep on praying that God will grant me the heart to forgive everything he did to me.

THE END

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