The Night I Cheated

The night I cheated on my husband began like any other, but it ended with a series of events that would shatter my world forever. 

I can still remember the last day I saw Richard before that fateful night; it was that day in court when he was found guilty of stealing a large sum of money from my father. He was sentenced to 7 years imprisonment, although he pleaded not guilty to the offence.

But I saw the checks and signatures, I saw the transfer messages and dates; the evidence was clear, but he still insisted that he didn’t steal anything, not even a dime while working for my dad. Somehow, deep down, I knew he was telling the truth, but I was scared and torn between loyalty to my father and love for him.

When it was my turn to testify, I gave a false testimony. My mother had urged me to tell the version of the story they had concocted, and I couldn’t say no.

I saw him cry as he was led out of the courtroom. My heart ached for doing that to the man I loved.

We had shared many sweet memories, but they didn’t matter at that moment. They didn’t matter the next week when I walked down the aisle with another man my parents had forced on me. They didn’t matter when I took my vows and signed my marriage register, nor when I kissed my wedded husband with the same lips that had once kissed Richard.

Eric was a good man; he truly loved me and showered me with care and kindness. In time, I learned to love him, and I fell madly in love. When we had our first child, Corinne, 10 months later, it added to his sweetness. Eric was overjoyed; I’d never seen him so happy, and right there at the hospital, I vowed to keep and protect my marriage.

But did I?

I started failing the day I saw Richard again.

He resurfaced after 4 years and came after me. How he became free, I didn’t know, and how he even found me was also a mystery. He had changed drastically; the beard that adorned his chin gave him a handsome look, and his well-formed muscles made him more attractive.

He actually didn’t come for me as I thought; he came for his child.

Now, Richard left me with the enormous task of telling my husband the truth so that he could take his daughter and leave. No one knew that Eric was not Corinne’s real father, not even my parents, not even Eric himself. I was one month pregnant before I got married, and Corinne arrived way past months, making it look like Eric was the father.

The news would hurt Eric, and that was exactly the last thing I wanted but Richard would tell him if I didn’t, and that would make matters worse.

Each time I made up my mind to tell Eric, he would do something so amazing that I’d lose heart, for I couldn’t hurt him. He wouldn’t be able to bear the pain; his blood pressure would fail him, and I feared greatly for my marriage.

I would do anything else Richard asked, but this. I would give money, property, lands, just anything so I could keep Corinne and my wonderful husband.

So that was it.

Richard asked for another chance. He wanted me one more time, just for a whole night. To recover all that he had lost for the past 4 years and finally say goodbye to me and his child.

I couldn’t cheat on my husband; it was one sin I would never commit, but it sounded fair enough. A night for my lifetime, a night for our daughter, a night to save my marriage.

I agreed.

He smiled as he opened the door of the hotel room; my heart skipped a beat as I saw the perfectly made bed. I had never shared a bed with another man after my wedding, and I kept hearing that small voice at the back of my head telling me to leave immediately.

I wanted to, but it was at that moment that Richard took off his shirt and came closer to hold me. At that moment, I knew I had missed him and all we had shared together. If only he hadn’t gone to prison; if only we had gotten married, but we didn’t.

As he touched me, I knew I had missed that too, and I allowed him to carry me to the bed. Our lips merged with a new urgency, and he took off my clothes as quickly as he did his own.

Underneath him, I counted the minutes. Soon it would be over, soon I’d be back home with my family, and everything would be fine; no one would ever know, as usual.

“Say you love me,” he demanded.

It took me time to decode what he meant. This isn’t a reunion, I thought; this isn’t lovemaking either; this is adultery, and he shouldn’t make it look like it’s not. I knew I still had to obey every part of this contract.

“I love…” It hung in my mouth as my husband barged in and stood in shock at the doorway.

Richard jerked off my body immediately, and I tried to cover my nakedness, but Eric had seen it all. He didn’t move; he just watched me with tears in his eyes.

“How could you?” he said in almost a whisper and wiped his tears in one swipe.

“I can explain, Eric,” I started saying, even though my heart was failing me at that moment. Fear and guilt were almost tearing me apart as I searched for my clothes that Richard had discarded in a hurry.

How did he find out?

Eric wasn’t listening to me; he fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

I couldn’t believe my luck; what I was trying to protect crashed right before my eyes, crushed and ground to powder.

******

I hoped for once the doctors were wrong and that my husband would be fine. He hadn’t spoken to me since; his poor heart couldn’t contain my infidelity. He had an attack.

It had been five days, and we’d been at the ICU.

My Eric was on the verge of death, and I was the cause of it. I couldn’t lose Eric, at least not in this manner. I did it all for him and to save our family; I wanted him to be happy and for our daughter, but it was wrong. I didn’t right a wrong with another wrong.

“Tell me you love me,” Eric demanded on his sickbed after he woke up a week later.

“I love you to the moon and back. Please forgive me for everything. I can handle a divorce and everything bad right now, but please don’t leave me like this. Please get well.”

I would never forgive myself if he died; it would haunt me for life that I repaid him with evil after all his love.

Eric didn’t divorce me; he was willing to let me go. He forgave, and death did us part.

He was buried 2 months later.

I lost my husband the very night I cheated.

READ ALSO: My Life Ended on a Wednesday

About Author

Maryann Ijeoma Nwokoye

Maryann Ijeoma Nwokoye is a creative writer, storyteller and development communicator. She is particular about using her skill in communication to see that this world becomes a better place and for men to turn their spears into ploughshares.

Beyond writing and storytelling, she is enthusiastic about human development. She has also managed programs for Non-governmental organizations that are focused on human development through technology and entrepreneurship.

She holds a Bachelor’s degree in Mass Communication and a Master’s degree in Applied Communication (In View) with a core interest in technology and development communication.

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