Five Years Ago, I Caught My Husband and His Cousin in an Ugly Position

Dear Paul,

Five years ago, on this day, I found out you were sleeping with your cousin. Five years later, the memory still cuts deep. Not just the act itself, but realizing that people I held in such high regard could disrespect me so completely..

I was nursing our one year old baby when you threw me into that dark place. I became a ghost of my former self, scared that my own sadness might somehow touch our child. You had so much, Paul. We had so much.

Let me take you back to the beginning. From the moment I met you, I knew I wanted to be the mother of your children. I dreamed of building a family with you. So when you finally proposed, I said yes with my whole heart. I was ready and willing to spend my life loving you and raising your kids. Even if that was all I ever did, it would have been enough for me.

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But Paul, here’s what I still don’t understand. When I found the evidence that you were sleeping with your cousin, why did you make me feel like the crazy one?

How could you do this with your own blood cousin? Is it a curse? Were you possessed? What goes through your mind when you come home and sleep in our bed after that act with her?

Do you even think about the consequences—the spiritual weight, the curse, the effect on our family? How could you betray everything we built, everything I sacrificed, like this?

Do you even feel the shame, or is it just numbness inside you now?

Why did you delete those transaction records showing money you sent her?

Why did you erase your message thread with her? I read those messages with my own two eyes. I saw the words clear as day: “your pot is sweet, next time I will eat and drink from it”

Do you know how much weight I lost thinking about it? I looked like I had kwashiorkor. I wasted away trying to figure out what you wanted that I wasn’t giving you. Was it motherhood that changed me so much? Did having your baby make me less desirable in your eyes? Tell me, Paul. Was that it?

So you were having fun with your cousin, fine. But why? Why did you have to go after my cousin too? Are you connected to some dark blood curse, or is this just who you really are?

I never imagined I would find naked photos of my own cousin in your phone. But there they were. And you were asking for more. Sending her money. Buying her alcohol. You put me against my own family because this cousin and I were once so close. Do you have any idea what it felt like walking through our community, knowing people were whispering about how my cousin is sleeping my husband?

And I won’t even get into all the other nude photos I found in your phone. Remember Jackie’s photos? Remember the day I came home and you had just snapped a nude picture of yourself? Where you were sending it, only you know. When I confronted you, you demanded proof.

But I didn’t take a screenshot because my phone is accessible to our children. What would I say if they stumbled across something like that? But don’t insult me, Paul. Don’t pretend I’m too stupid to know what I saw.

If I wrote down every woman you’ve been involved with, it would fill a book. You’re no different from those men you read about, sticking it anywhere, except you’re the one living in my house, sleeping in my bed. Did you change after we married, or were you always like this? You call it flirting, but why do you tell them to meet you at hotels? Why do you spend long nights out partying and drinking with them, coming home drunk out of your mind, missing your steps, misbehaving in front of your own children? Sometimes you don’t even make it inside. Sometimes you sleep in your car.

It’s been five years ever since. And every December, it all comes rushing back. I dread going to your family’s house to celebrate with people who sided with you while I was breaking inside. My heart sinks each time you casually ask about my job schedule during Christmas, as if that day does not mark the beginning of my silent suffering.

But here’s what I want you to know, Paul. One day I will leave you. That day is coming. In your old age, when you need help with food, when you need someone to bring your medicines after that stroke that’s probably waiting for you, I won’t be there. I’ll leave when the kids are bigger: when the children are grown and no longer need me to hold everything together. For now, I’ll stay and close my eyes to what you’re doing. Not because I accept it, but because I have nowhere else to go right now. And the children need me here.

So know this. I am watching you. With two eyes. But one eye open, one eye closed. I see what you’re doing. I smell what you’re doing. And still, you continue.

You will also notice something else. I will stop forcing you to love me. I will stop begging you to take me on dates. I will stop pushing you to spend time with your children. It hurts me that they might grow up without speaking of their father with joy in their eyes, but I cannot manufacture fatherhood for you..

So here I am. Focusing on my own well being. Working on my own life. And no, I’m not cheating on you. I have no plans to. I will not fight with you anymore. I will not struggle with you anymore.

I’m just here. Waiting. And watching.

And one day, when the time is right, I’ll be gone.

–Asi

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