I used to think that I could have everything I ever wanted. I thought I knew it all. But now, I’ve realized that the world has so much of secretes buried at every corner of our lives. As a teenage girl back then at college, I had a crush on Tony. Tony was every girl’s dream at school, but he came from a disciplined home and was never seen with girls even though they made passes at him. To win Tony’s heart, I stole my sister’s book, titled, ‘HOW TO GET HIM TO LOVE YOU’. I read it and eventually it worked out for me. Tony and I became lovers. He was cute, tall and handsome. I still recall the day he broke my hymen: December 24. It was our first time. I was just fourteen. He looked very innocent, I lured him into that dark room when everyone was outside watching the fireworks, and some had gone to the church for the Christmas vigil. Anyway, that was how we started.
When we left college, Tony’s parents insisted that he should obtain his university degree abroad. But Tony declined. He wanted to school here in Nigeria. He wanted us to always be together, and he knew my parents could not afford enough money to sponsor me abroad so we can be together. After several months of disagreement with his parents, the parents agreed with him. Fortunately as we planned, we both got admission into the University of Lagos. Life for us was blissful. We loved each other. After four years, we both graduated with good grades. Tony had a first class in Economics. I had second-class upper in Theatre-Arts. Though we made love, sex was twice a week, but it never affected our studies.
A year after our youth service, Tony finally travelled abroad for his master’s degree. I got a job with one of the banks. We were talking while he was away; phone calls and online conversations. Two years later, he obtained his degree, and he informed me that he was coming back to Nigeria. For a week I didn’t hear from him after he’d told me he was coming to Nigeria, I tried his line, sent him messages online, all to no avail. I was depressed. A week turned into a month. Months turned into years, I never heard from Tony. For four years I waited for Tony, I couldn’t go into any relationship with any other guy. No other guy can ever be Tony. So I endured the emotional trauma.
Two years ago, I met Stanley. Stanley was a great guy, rich, handsome and caring. He treated me like a queen, like a baby. He loved me. I loved him, but I loved Tony more. Stanley never asked for sex. He was always against it. Each time I felt that urge for sex and needed a man inside me, he’d always give me one excuse: “Let it be on our wedding night. God is against sex before marriage”. He wasn’t a devoted Christian and so I wondered why he seemed to obey this boring law of the church as it seemed then. Of course I wanted to get married; I was twenty-seven when we met. Last year when I clocked twenty-eight, Stanley proposed to me with a precious golden ring. Three months ago, we had our traditional marriage. Despite the traditional marriage, Stanley insisted that we do the white wedding before we can have sex. It was the most frustrating thing in my life.
A month ago, I got a call. It was Tony. Tony was back in Nigeria. He asked us to see so he could explain things to me. I gave him my address, and he showed up in my apartment. Stanley had called in the morning that he was coming to my place after work. Tony told me all that happened to him, I felt so bad and sorry for him. He was jailed alongside his friend for a crime he didn’t commit, but he was released after evidence that vindicated him, haven spent three years in jail. He was compensated though and given a job over there. He said he came so as to organise our marriage plan and then take me abroad.
I told Tony that my wedding was in two weeks. He was so unhappy and disappointed. That evening, one thing led to the other, and we were having sex in my sitting room. Stanley entered and caught us red-handed. It was a bad scene to remember.
At that moment, I thought Stanley would cancel the wedding. Surprisingly, he didn’t. Two weeks ago, we had the wedding.
Last night I got the worst reality ever; the truth that had been hidden for so long. How foolish was I not to have realised this? Since our wedding night, Stanley had refused to touch me. I thought he was punishing me because of what I did with Tony. But last night, after having his bath, I was lying nude on the bed, and I asked him to climb me. He refused, I got up, took off the towel around his waist. I couldn’t believe what I saw. His manhood is as tiny as the tip of the smallest finger. And then he confessed to me. Stanley is impotent!
Would Tony take me back? And even if he would, how about his parents, would they allow Tony to marry a lady that was married before?
I’m leaving this marriage. I need to leave. But how do I leave? Stanley is seriously crying and begging me not to leave him.
