When I Was Planning Our Marriage He Was Getting Another Woman Pregnant

There’s a season in life where everything feels painfully still. Your career isn’t moving. Your finances are stuck. Your purpose feels lost. You watch your friends hit milestones, celebrate wins, and move forward while you’re sitting there asking God, “Why me? When will my time come?”

FOLLOW US ON WHATSAPP CHANNEL TO RECEIVE ALL STORIES IN YOUR INBOX

It was in that season I met Kofi.

Well, technically, I’d known him as a “hi, hello” friend from church. But that difficult season brought us closer. I was healing from a seven-year relationship that had left me broken and questioning everything about love. Kofi and I started talking more, and eventually, he told me he wanted to be with me.

I turned him down. I needed space to heal, to breathe, to figure my life out without jumping into another relationship.

But he didn’t give up on me.

Kofi did everything possible to help me heal. He was patient. He was kind. He was present. I asked him to give me time to pray about us, and I did. God showed me signs that felt clear. So after months of getting to know each other better, of learning to trust again, I said yes.

Kofi was God-sent, or so I thought. He helped me get back on my feet. He motivated me to chase success again. He supported me in every way. He helped me find a job. He made sure nothing robbed me of joy. For the first time in years, I felt like I had a true partner. Our first year together was pure happiness.

Because I was so grateful to have him in my life, I gave what I could. I didn’t earn much, but I did the little things. I cooked for him. I cleaned. I washed his clothes. On days I couldn’t cook, I’d buy foodstuff and ask my mum to prepare meals for him. He met my family, and I met his. Everything felt perfect, like God had finally answered my prayers.

We planned our lives together down to 2028. We talked about our children’s names. We discussed where we’d live. We even started marriage preparations toward the end of our first year. I’d secretly taken the marriage list from my sister, and we’d already bought almost 80% of the items. We were that serious. That committed. That ready.

READ ALSO: I Sent My Boyfriend Intimate Photos And He Showed Them To His Girlfriend

One weekend, Kofi had to attend a wedding in his hometown. I told him I’d leave shortly after he did, but I stayed back because I wanted to surprise him after his long journey. I hid in the bedroom with the lights off, waiting to see the look on his face when he realised I was there.

He arrived around midnight.

But he didn’t arrive alone.

I shouted “Babyyyyyy!” excited to surprise him. Instead, I was met with a frightened look on his face. He quickly asked me for money to pay the taxi driver, trying to rush me back inside. But I heard a woman’s voice in the kitchen. A woman’s voice.

When I asked who it was, he said, “Oh, it’s the taxi driver I came with.” But I knew what I heard. That was not a man’s voice. When he stepped out to “pay the taxi,” I followed quietly. And I met the shock of my life.

He brought in another woman. He lied to my face that she was stranded at the bus station and needed help for the night. I’d planned a surprise for the man I loved, but I was the one who got surprised.

I forgave him that night because I wanted to believe his story. But everything changed after that. I couldn’t unsee what I saw. I couldn’t unhear that voice.

I started paying attention. I started noticing things. Eventually, I discovered the truth. He’d been dating both of us for over a year. A whole year. I almost died when I found out. He played his game so well that I never suspected a single thing.

Kofi, I know you’ll read this. We’ve always shared stories from Silent Beads together. You know I read every post. You know I comment. You know this blog is part of our life. You didn’t have to pay me back this way. I loved you with everything in me. We had our whole lives planned out. You could’ve just told me the truth when I asked if you were seeing someone else. You could’ve been honest with me.

You know how much I gave up to make this work. You know how much I sacrificed. After everything we’ve been through together, even to the point where I almost lost my life for you, this is how you choose to leave me? With lies and a secret child?

Comparing Ghana And The UK: Lifestyle, Dating and Everything In Between

The most painful part? I met her. The other woman. She told me everything. She showed me proof. And you still looked me in the eye and lied. She’s pregnant with your child, and you denied it to my face.

You were coming to perform the knocking rites next month. The official marriage process was about to start. Was this the marriage you wanted? That we’d be living in peace as husband and wife, only for someone to show up at our door with your child one day?

We used to read stories like this together on Silent Beads and shake our heads. We used to condemn baby mama drama. We judged people in these situations. And now, I’m one of them.

I’m broken, Kofi. I’m disappointed. I’m hurt in ways I didn’t know were possible. But if I prayed about you and this relationship, and this is how God chose to reveal the truth to me before I made the biggest mistake of my life, then I leave you to Him. I don’t regret loving you. I don’t regret anything I did for you. God knows I did it all from a genuine heart. I cooked because I wanted to. I cleaned because I cared. I supported you because I believed in us.

Don’t worry about my parents. I’ll tell them everything myself. And you can keep all the items we bought for the marriage. Consider them a gift for you, your child and baby mama. I wish you and your baby mama well. I really do. I hope you build the family you clearly wanted more than the one we planned together. I thought Kofi was my blessing. But maybe my real blessing was finding out the truth before I married him. Before I had children with him. Before I was legally bound to a man living a double life.

I’m healing now. Slowly. Painfully. But I’m healing. And I know God has something better for me. Something real. Something honest. Something worth the wait.

—Patience

This story you just read was sent to us by someone just like you. We know you have a story too. Email it to us at submissions@silentbeads.com. You can also drop your number and we will call you so you tell us your story.

#SB<>