African parents are gifts that keep up on giving –…
I didn’t know it wasn’t my husband. It happened after a ceremony in his home town. My husband’s friend travelled with us to the village for the final burial of my husband’s grandmother. The party was held till very late in the night. People went to sleep one after the other.
My husband told me he was going in to sleep and then l told him I will join him as soon as I was done.
I had to stay behind with a few women to wash the dishes. We finished by 11:45pm.
I thought it was my husband that was in the room, I just went in and slept under the duvet, that was how one thing led to the other and it happened.
It was when I woke up to ease my self in the morning that I realised my husband slept in the sitting room.
Who have I been with all night? I went on the tip of my toes to confirm. Behold, It was Frank my husband’s friend.
I felt a cold chill ran down my spine. My legs became heavy, I wished the world should come to an end. Frank was fast asleep when I came in, I quickly picked my things and left the room.
Now I am confused, I don’t know what to do. Why didn’t Frank tell me that I was in the wrong bed? What should I do? Should I tell my husband?
Should I confront Frank? Or should I live with this guilt for the rest of my life?
What should I do?
Editor’s note: We have removed the author’s name to protect their privacy but you can drop your thoughts in the comments section