While My Friends Were Fighting Me to Stick With My ex, My Husband Was Knocking

I grew up with Frances and Lucy. Back in Dormaa, the three of us were inseparable. We went to the same school and entered the university the same year. After university, Lucy stayed in Accra because, by then, her family had moved there.

I was dating Jordan, a guy I had dated when I was seventeen and still in school. The two of us were the standard when it came to relationships. Frances wanted something like ours. Lucy said the next guy she would meet should be someone in the category of Jordan. We both said our love was forever. We were young when we started dating, but there was a sneaky maturity to our relationship. I still don’t know where it came from.

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After our national service, Frances and I packed our bags and went to visit Lucy in Accra. We didn’t know how long we were going to stay. We prayed we would get jobs while in Accra so we wouldn’t have to go back to Dormaa. It was a big house, but our presence made it look small. We were always happy and all over the place. If there was a party nearby, you could count on us to be there, rain or shine.

A few weeks later, Frances met a guy and fell in love with him. Lucy and I knew the guy was a fuck boy, but Frances was so in love she wouldn’t listen to us. Lucy was also dating Kobby. I was dating Jordan, who was in Dormaa, so anytime we went out and the two of them were with their boyfriends, I became very lonely. It got to a point where I wasn’t even happy going out with them because they left me alone and enjoyed the moment with their boyfriends.

I was always on the phone with Jordan, from morning till evening, telling him how much I missed him and how I wished he could be there so the three of us could go out with our boyfriends and I wouldn’t be lonely. Those were wishes, and they were not like horses a poor dreamer could ride on.

One evening, while the two of them were busy enjoying their boyfriends in a bar not far from home, a gentleman came to sit next to me and asked my name. He said he was Derrick. He really wanted to talk to me but didn’t have time, so he preferred that I give him my number. I did, believing he would call and I wouldn’t pick up. But he came like a storm, shattering all my defenses with beautiful conversations and an irresistible aura.

I told him I had a boyfriend but didn’t mind being friends with him. I said that so that if he had an ulterior motive, he would let go. He said, “I know you do. Who in his right mind wouldn’t know that a beautiful girl like you has a boyfriend?”

We were on the phone often, to the extent that Lucy and Frances got to know who he was. They started warning me to stay away or they would tell Jordan. I assured them nothing was going to happen. Derrick came for me often, especially after work. He asked me to stay in Accra, and I told him if only he would find me and my friend jobs.

Each time I came back from seeing Derrick, my friends got angry that I had a boyfriend and was also seeing another guy. I explained myself. I swore on my mother’s grave that nothing was going on. They hated Derrick because they thought he was crossing a line. They didn’t even want to meet him to see the kind of person he was. I kept him to myself and met him whenever he wanted to see me.

We spent over two months in Accra. A few days before leaving, Derrick took me out and I didn’t come back until dawn. We moved from one interesting place to another, as if he was showing me the whole of Accra in one night. When I got home, my friends said I had gone to spend the night with Derrick. They asked what happened in bed with him. “You want to tell us he didn’t touch you?” they asked. I replied, “I don’t even know his house. We were just roaming.”

Opinions had already been formed, so nothing I said worked. Lucy said I wasn’t being honest. Frances said I had betrayed Jordan and that it hurt her to know she had contributed by bringing me to Accra. I got very angry, and this issue nearly broke us apart.

I went to Jordan’s house to surprise him, and I saw a lady’s slippers under his bed. He said they were for a neighbor and later said, “Oh, it’s for Kwabena’s girlfriend. They came here just yesterday.”

There was also a wig cap trapped at the side of his bed. Obviously, a woman had been around. He swore heaven and earth that those things belonged to his friend’s girlfriend. I didn’t argue. I took photos of them without his knowledge, showed them to Kwabena’s girlfriend, and asked if they belonged to her. She answered, “No, I’ve never owned anything like this.” She also confirmed she had never been in Jordan’s room. When he realized I had gone that far for the truth, he confessed that he had been lonely while I was away and the lady had seduced him.

That was the end of our relationship. Even with all the evidence, Frances and Lucy accused me of leaving Jordan because of Derrick. At that moment, I realized I needed to live my own life without their opinions.

I spoke to Derrick every day, but I never told him what had happened. One day, he sent me a job link to apply for with Frances. I sent it to Frances, and she asked where I got it from. When I told her, she said, “He can’t use this to buy my support. He should leave you alone for Jordan.”

I applied and was called for an interview. Frances didn’t apply. Months later, I was back in Accra working. I stayed with Lucy for a while before getting my own place. For over a year, I spoke to Derrick every day, and he still believed I had a boyfriend. He was kind to me. He respected boundaries and showed me great respect as a woman in a relationship.

One day, I opened up and told him everything about Jordan. “We broke up long ago. I didn’t even get time to mourn the relationship because I needed to fix my own life.”

He said, “Sorry for everything.” I answered, “Oh, a year-old story? I moved on long ago.”

One morning, I woke up to a text message from him. He said, “What about me? Do I stand a chance? I promise I will do better.”

Within seven months, we were getting married. That was exactly what I told him when I accepted his proposal. I said, I’ve dated since I was seventeen and don’t know what else dating can teach me. I can’t go on for more than a year. If it wouldn’t work for you, that’s fine.” He answered, “A year? A lot can happen in a year. Trust me.”

Lucy and Frances stood by me during our wedding. A lifetime of friendship was celebrated that day. Dating Derrick made them believe what they had thought was true, but I was too old to explain. A day before my wedding, Frances called me lucky. She said, “The men we dated when you found Derrick are nowhere to be found, but you walked from Jordan to this. I’m very happy for you, and I’m also happy you didn’t listen to us.”

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Today, they are both godmothers to my two daughters and very proud of our journey. Maybe what Frances said was true. I am one lucky girl, and finding Derrick when and where I did proves exactly that.

—Rosalinda

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