The day we fixed the date for our wedding, we made a resolution to stay off sex until our honeymoon. We had dated for two years and sx had been a staple in our relationship. We didn’t go a day without it at the beginning but a year later, we couldn’t go a week without it. We could have it in the washroom or in the backyard because walking to the bedroom always felt like a journey of a thousand miles. We were not ready to take the first step.
He asked me, “Are you sure we can do it?” I answered, “It’s only five months. Let’s try. When we succeed, the night of our honeymoon is going to be a banger.” So, two weak souls started a journey they were not sure they would be able to complete. We made rules. I wasn’t going to visit his house. He could visit mine but we were not going to stay in the room.
We would be where others are so we don’t get tempted. The wedding preparations itself got us busy. He was doing things with his family while I was always fighting my parents who wanted to have their dream wedding through me. In the evening before we slept, we would be on a video call or on a normal call. I would tell him, “I wish you were here.” He would respond, “I wish you were here too. You alone can take away this stress I’m in.” We would talk about naughty stuff, say good night, and wake up in the morning to continue life from where we left off.
He went out without me, during the times we were staying away from sex. It was always about his friends. Some nights, I went out with them to have fun only to return home to feel lonely and yearn for his presence. Slowly, we were only a month away from our wedding. We couldn’t go a week without it but with discipline and tact, we were able to stay away from each other for four solid months. A month to our wedding was stressful so we didn’t even think about it.
I was always on the run. I was always fighting with someone who tried to come against my plans. Finally, I woke up one morning and it was my wedding day. I sighed heavily and remembered that I didn’t talk to my husband-to-be the previous night. When I called his phone he was still sleeping. He said he and the boys went out to have fun and returned very late. We spoke briefly before I told him not to be late. The wedding was smooth.
The smiles, the cheers, the vows, the dance. Everything happened the way we planned it and by 9 pm, we were already in our hotel room, ready to begin our honeymoon. He went to shower first. By the time I returned from the bath, he was gone. I didn’t spend more than fifteen minutes in the bathroom. I didn’t worry him, I just coiled myself in his arms, where he would easily find me if he woke up before I did. While on the bed, I felt like I’d slept on something.
I lifted myself up to see it was his phone. There were messages on the screen. I scrolled through them until I saw one message that kept asking if my husband was sleeping. I opened the phone and went straight to that message. I didn’t understand why the sender was concerned about the sleeping status of my husband. Their chat started only a day ago but the conversations didn’t sound like they’d known each other for only a day. There were missing back stories but I stayed focused while reading. I patched up the pieces until I got to, “So what happens to us? Don’t tell me to forget everything that happened yesterday because you’re now married. I’m not going anywhere.
Are you sleeping?” “Are you sleeping or you’re busy on top?” “Hello” “Helloooooooo” My honeymoon was only a few hours old but my marriage was about to plunge into an uncertainty that would lead us to where we are at the moment. I woke him up. I showed him the messages. I asked what the lady was talking about. He tried to brush things into the pit of, “Oh we are just friends and she’s joking” and all. I asked him to call her. He didn’t. I already had the number so early in the morning I called her. When she realized it was me she cut the call. Again, I patched the pieces together and gave him the conclusion; “So while I was home thinking about our wedding, you were out there sleeping with another woman.
It’s OK, I’m going home.” He tried to stop me. I told him the only thing that would stop me from leaving and from wondering would be the truth. He tried telling me everything but even that, he hushed the truth. He said nothing happened. And then he said he was drunk so they kissed. And later admitted sex happened but it was due to the influence of alcohol. When I pushed further, he admitted it wasn’t the first time. I packed out of the hotel room and since then, I’ve been in my parents’ house.
I feel cheated. We both had a plan–a plan we both put together and accepted and worked diligently towards it. While I was there struggling to see it to the end, he was out there playing games and breaking the rules. He could afford to sleep on our first night after our wedding because just a night before, he had his cup full. When he came to beg, I gave him one condition; “I’ll have an affair with a man for just one night. I’ll come and tell you how it went and from there we’ll be together. I want to be even with you. If you accept it, we’ll work things out.”
I don’t mean to do that. There’s no way in hell for me to do that but looking at his face while telling him that gave me some sense of accomplishment. It felt like a penny against a million but it was alright. I watched him beg while saying “Two wrongs don’t make a right.” My dad said the same thing. My mom asked me to forgive and forget. I’m not going to forgive.
Forgetting would be impossible so I’ve asked for time and space. I don’t want to see him or hear from him until I’m settled in my heart. If after some months I can’t let the cheating go, I’ll call off the marriage. Cheating husbands are created out of situations like this. You forgive today, you’ll have to learn to forgive the same incident every day. I’m not ready to go through that stress. I’m too young and beautiful to allow marriage to suck the juice out of me.
