What the heart wants

I did not have children in my previous marriage and for that, I am grateful. That may sound strange but there is a reason behind it.

I got married as a virgin at the age of twenty-six. I was raised in a strict Christian home. My parents were ministers in our local church and I was a strong advocate for abstinence and no sex before marriage. I held myself to very high moral standards.

I coordinated the Teens Church, served as president of the Young Adults Fellowship, sang in the choir and volunteered as a cleaner. Most people hardly called me Eunice. They called me Miss Efficient because of my dedication and commitment.

When I met Bro. Lawrence at a national youth conference, I never expected him to take an interest in me. He had ministered in songs and many ladies were practically drooling over him yet he chose to come and speak to me.

We exchanged phone numbers and before I knew it, he was calling me every day. Soon, he started attending my church and eventually became a member. He was the best singer in the choir, full of zeal and enthusiasm. Everyone loved him.

Six months later, he asked for my hand in marriage. I was hesitant but everyone around me insisted that ours would be a match made in heaven. My parents preferred him to Sammy, who had been in love with me since our teenage years. Even after relocating abroad, Sammy never stopped professing his feelings for me. He was heartbroken when I told him I was getting married.

Marriage to Lawrence became a painful reminder never to judge a book by its cover. Sometimes, it felt as though he had been sent to punish me for a crime I had committed in a previous life.
To outsiders, we looked like a happy couple but behind closed doors, he made my life miserable.

He constantly criticized me for not being submissive enough. He accused me of being selfish because I refused to relocate abroad with him. Whenever I had my monthly period, he would scold me as though it were some personal failure. He mocked me for not getting pregnant, saying that young girls were conceiving with ease while I could not manage to do the same. I often wondered how that was possible when we were hardly intimate.

At times, he even suggested that I had lied about being a virgin before marriage. According to him, girls like me knew how to invent stories to appear innocent. His words were cruel and deeply hurtful.

As time passed, I also realized that his stories about being a businessman did not add up. Apart from his music career which he did not even take seriously, he had nothing going for him.
I paid the bills.
I took care of him.
I took care of everything.
Meanwhile, he continued to belittle me.

It was not my fault that the American embassy had denied him visas on multiple occasions. Yet I had taken him to Dubai and Jordan, hoping it would make him happy. It never did.

My younger brother got married and Sammy attended the wedding. I had always liked Sammy. The feeling had always been mutual. But one of the reasons my parents doubted him was because he was not actively involved in church. That mattered greatly to us at the time, although my brothers never seemed bothered by it.

Seeing Sammy again reminded me of everything I had always admired about him. His passion. His drive. His ambition. His outlook on life and people. He was the complete package.

Deep down, I had always known that.
I had simply wanted a man who would serve God with the same intensity that I did.

During the wedding, Sammy jokingly told me that he was still waiting for me.
He said he was convinced Lawrence was not my husband. He admitted he could not explain why he felt that way but he intended to wait one more year for me. It was one of the most outrageous things anyone had ever said to me with so much confidence.

As unhappy as I was in my marriage, I did not appreciate him saying those things. I immediately told him off.

After the wedding, I returned home.
A few days passed and Lawrence was nowhere to be found. We had barely spoken while I was away, so he did not even know I had returned.

About a week later, I heard a car drive into the compound. I walked to the window and froze. Lawrence was in the driver’s seat of my car. Beside him was a woman.

I watched in disgust as he leaned toward her, fondling and kissing her without the slightest concern. Then he stepped out, walked around the car and opened the door for her like a perfect gentleman.
The woman laughed.

Lawrence patted her backside playfully and she practically skipped behind him in excitement as they headed toward the house.

A few moments later, the front door opened. Lawrence walked in and stopped abruptly when he saw me.
The smile disappeared from his face.
He had no idea I was back.

The woman beside him was Monica, one of his band members. I looked from Lawrence to Monica and back again.
In that instant, the events of the previous two and a half years flashed through my mind.

Every insult.
Every humiliation.
Every disappointment.
Every sacrifice.

I had tolerated so much that I was beginning to lose myself.

The idiot was driving my car, spending my money, bringing his mistress into my house and somehow still managing to make me feel small. It felt as though scales had suddenly fallen from my eyes and for the first time, I saw everything clearly. I screamed. I charged at him, snatched my keys from his hand and pushed him out of my house.

Lawrence stood there completely confused.
“What are you doing?” he kept asking.
“Eunice, have you lost your mind?”

When he realized I was serious, he changed tactics.
“Are you not worried about what people will say?”
“What will people think?”

But I was past caring.
For once, I chose myself.

Lawrence went around town with his own version of how our marriage ended.
He painted me as the villain and soon, the phone calls began. The messages followed.

Everyone claimed they were concerned but most of them were simply looking for gossip.

I grew tired of the questions.
Tired of the stares.
Tired of being discussed.
Most of all, I was not ready to explain myself to anyone. The mistake had been made and it was my responsibility to deal with it.

I needed space.
I needed distance.
I needed time away from everyone including my parents, who felt partly responsible for what had happened.
So I traveled.

When Sammy called to check on me, as he always did, I casually mentioned that I was in town.
He had already heard about my marriage falling apart but unlike everyone else, he never brought it up. Not once.
He waited until I was ready to talk and he listened without judgment.
He never said, “I told you so.”
He never reminded me of what he had said at my brother’s wedding.
He was simply there for me. As a friend.

Exactly one year later, Monica found herself heartbroken after Lawrence left her for a new band member. She was a woman scorned and she began to talk.

As his longest serving band member, she had been involved from the very beginning. She revealed that she had planned everything with Lawrence.
She confessed that Lawrence had been taking steroids specifically to affect his sperm count so that I would not get pregnant.

The revelation shocked me. At the same time, I felt grateful. I was thankful I did not have a child with him because I did not want a lifelong reminder of the man who had used me.

Monica revealed even more. According to her, Lawrence had seen me as his ticket out of Nigeria. He had done extensive research before pursuing me.
He knew my siblings lived abroad and we were American citizens. His plan had been simple.
Marry me.
Relocate abroad.
Settle down.
Divorce me.
Then return for Monica.

I felt sick. Used. Humiliated. Angry.
But I was also relieved that the truth was finally out. People now knew who Lawrence really was.
After everything that had happened, I had no plans of returning to Nigeria. I was done.

Over time, Sammy and I had grown even closer. Yet he never once mentioned what he had said about marrying me.
Not once. I liked him more than ever.
In fact, I was finally ready to be his, if he still wanted me.

Many times, I wanted to bring it up.
Many times, I wanted to ask him if there was still a future for us. But I never found the courage.

And so, here I was. Finally with the one person who had always truly loved me.
Yet I still did not know whether there was a future waiting for us.