I was getting tired of the show. The life of Mrs. Williams did not turn out to be what I had foreseen for myself. I used to be a very playful and career-oriented young lady, wanting to transform the world with my ideas, ideas that my husband, Williams Edubamo, killed with his notion of who a wife should be. I knew that to the rest of the world, I may sound stupid, maybe even a little bit ungrateful, but the truth is that money really isn’t everything there is to life.
A few months after we got married, I came to the realization that I was married to a big cheat. He was not just satisfied with the ‘perfect’ wife he had at home, so while I was stressed out, and tried hard to do everything to meet up to his standards, my dear husband was gallivanting around the city with different girlfriends, changing them at will like socks.
I did not believe the rumors, of course, but one certain Saturday, I went for a meeting at De’ Royal Garden hotel where I was supposed to meet with the wife of the governor of our state. On getting to the entrance, I noticed the car my husband left the house with parked just before the seven gold plated staircase leading to the automatic slide doors. Not long after, I saw him come out with a lady, probably in her early 20’s (that is if she wasn’t even 20). She wore a black sequin dress that hugged her waist like its life depended on it and flowed down in a flay the rest of the way till it got to the ground; her steps were elegant like a lady of high class, and it showed in the way she was treated.
My husband, her smitten king opened the door of his 2019 white Range Rover for her, and I was shattered in that single moment; so I scurried my way back home and waited for his arrival from ‘the office’. He arrived with the words “Honey, I’m back home. I had quite a day” in his mouth, words that felt like shit being thrown to my face. So I confronted him.
Knowing that he had been caught redheaded, he didn’t pretend to lie about it. He fell on his knees with a smug look on his face and broke down in crocodile tears, telling me how much he loved me and how the seductress had tempted him. For some reason, I decided to let it go but it didn’t stop; I caught him on several occasions, and the chain just kept getting longer until I became scared of my own sexual health.
Tired of the whole shit show, I was fed up with Williams coming home each day and professing his love for me.
“Does he really love me? Could he be an unfaithful but loving husband?” Thoughts like this filled my mind for months and I came to the conclusion that I was going to ask him for a divorce.
The next morning I woke up facing a copy of Da Vinci painting that graced the east wall of our bedroom, and almost immediately while trying to stand up, I fell backward to the bed and the next time I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital with doctors and nurses everywhere.
“Probably the emergency ward,” I thought to myself. I saw Williams still in his silk robe walking towards me smiling. On getting to the bed where I was, he told me that they were going to transfer me to a private ward where we’d have our privacy and went further to say, “The doctor also gave good news. We are expecting a baby.”
I didn’t know whether to be happy or sad, and all that kept ringing in my head was the prenup I signed, where I agreed to leave any and every child with him in the case of a divorce. How would I leave the marriage now?
The next day, I was discharged from the hospital and on our way home, Williams reminded me of the party we organized every year and how it was just two months away. “It’ll be the perfect time to announce the arrival of the new heir,” he said with a smile on his face. He was overjoyed by the news obviously, and I on the other hand just nodded in approval as every trophy wife should.
Every year, in August, we organized a party with the intent of hosting his friends and giving them a good time. But somehow I always saw it as Mr. Williams’s way of telling the society that our wealth was vast and growing: flamboyant cocktails and the intercontinental buffet were the usual sights at the party. The duty of planning the success of the party each year fell on the governess of our estate and myself: sending out the invitations, making arrangements for the decorations and catering. Also ensuring that our cellars were stocked with good wine, both red and white. It was always a busy month every July, and this year, at least there was finally a reason for this party—the arrival of the heir.
Later in July, whilst preparing for the baby shower, I confirmed from a scan that I was pregnant with a healthy male child. I chose to hide the detail from Mr. Williams till the baby shower which was just two weeks away.
On that very beautiful Sunday evening, the sun was nowhere to be found and the sky pale and grey with the wind blowing softly. I and my husband stood at the entrance of our mansion welcoming guests. He was dressed in a black Louis Vuitton double-breasted suit and I was in a pink gown that was free and big enough to hide my bump, yet chic and expensive, with a pearl necklace he got for me on one of his trips to England.
As expected, the party was as beautiful which was what we had planned. The news of the gender of the child filled the room like helium, lifting the mood of my dear husband and other people who were in attendance. But after it all, I was left to myself and the realization that I had to stay in a marriage that didn’t make me happy, all because I signed a prenuptial agreement out of greed. Who would have known that things would turn out this way? Well, I just have to comfort myself with the fact that he loved me and look beyond his ever-cheating nature. It won’t be that bad, at least I have my son to keep me company now.