Dear Aunty Carol,
I’m a 33 year old mother of two, married to the man of my dreams. We were high school sweethearts who got married at the age of 23.
Ten years later, the love is fading. My husband is acting differently. He finds fault in my foods. We fight a lot more and spend less time with each other. In fact the only thing that brings us together is the kids.
This isn’t how it used to be and I miss my husband. So, I went on a one month journey to bring back that element of love we now lacked. For one month, I never responded when ever he argued. I never talked back when he complains about my food. Never questioned him when he comes home after midnight. I would rise and hug him even when my heart was breaking. For one whole month, I did this. I played the song we danced to on our secondary school graduation. My caring, enlarged the photo we took the first time we met at the inter school carnival and hung it by our bed side. I planted memories of our past in our present, hoping and praying my husband returns.
Heaven answered my prayers one evening when I returned home from work. The house was silent. The kids’s loud voices were not bellowing in the living room as usual. Everywhere was silent. And there was my husband leaning on the wall, opposite the door, his eyes fixated on me. Tears shone in the depths.
“What’s wrong, Danny? Where are the kids?” I asked. Confusion swirled in my head.
He looked at me long and hard before he said- “I sent them to my mother’s”
He walked across the room and stopped in front of me. His lips descended on mine. He kissed me with the same vigor with which he had kissed me on our wedding night. Tears dripped from the corners of his eyes down to my cheeks. He shuddered.
“What’s wrong, Danny?” I asked, panic creeping in my voice.
“Nothing, honey. I love you so much… And.. I.. I… am sorry for… for… everything.”
His voice broke. Danny’s shuddering grew to full blown cries, as his shoulders rocked with the intensity of his agony. I cried too. I didn’t know why but I cried along. My hands roamed his back as I folded him in my arms. Rocking him exactly the way I did the night his father died 12 years ago.
“I have hurt you, honey and I have no right to.” he said. His eyes avoided mine.
“It’s alright, Danny.”
” It is not. I feel so ashamed. I… don’t deserve… you.”
His voice broke again. Tears took over.
“Stop talking like that, Danny! You did nothing to…”
“I slept with your best friend!” he blurted out. It felt like the words were hurled out of him.
I froze. My heart shattered. Danny slept with Amaka. Images of them wriggling on the bed swung before my eyes. I could see him groaning her name. I could see him bending between her legs, his tongue dancing in the warmth of her womanhood.
My heart stilled. This must be how it feels to die.
My chest rose and fell. I withdrew from him but his arms came round me,holding me firm to him, crying and pleading that he was sorry.
That night, I forgave. Four months later, I am yet to let him touch me. His caresses scorched like flames. In his eyes, I see Amaka.
The love I feel for Danny is dying. True forgiveness is hard to give.
What do I do, Aunty Carol?
True forgiveness is hard to give, I understand. A part of your heart have been broken. But remember that whatever you want healed shall be healed. Just like you fought for your marriage and got Danny to remember the journey of your love, you can still work this out.
There is no love without mistakes. Love him enough to bury the pain. Love him enough to erase his mistakes. He confessed freely. That is a huge plus even though it is not an excuse to be unfaithful.
Sit and talk with him. Ask him why he derailed. Demand from him what attracted him to Amaka. Enquire from him how you fell short. Ask questions and have him answer them.
Rebuild your trust. Love him anew for the children’s sake. Have him vow his fidelity over again.
Cut Amaka off. Rebuild your home afresh.
True love always finds a way to heal.
Much love Isabelle.