He Lied About His Divorce And Destroyed My Trust

It wasn't love at first sight when I met Agyeman. He appeared responsible, mature, and carried a certain grace in his actions. His sense of humor was so captivating that it demanded attention. On that particular day, I wasn't in the mood to interact with anyone; I just wanted to focus on my work and go about my day. However, this man was persistent. He said, “Becky, I’m going to meet your boss and then come back here. When you see me, please smile. Climbing up there and back isn’t easy.”

My name tag read Rebecca, but he chose to call me Becky as if we were friends.

His role with our company required him to visit our office every morning and late afternoon. We gradually got to know each other. He offered me rides home on some days, and we became good friends. As we talked about life, I discovered we had much in common. He was always honest and straightforward, especially when discussing marriage.

From our conversations, I learned he had been married for over ten years, but the relationship had deteriorated. They had agreed to divorce and had been working on it for over a year. Whenever he spoke about his marriage, he appeared deeply saddened. I didn’t know how to comfort him, but I did my best to listen.

As we commuted home together each day, we grew closer. A few months later, he shared some good news: “Our divorce has been finalized, so I’m free to go wherever I want.” He said this with a joyful expression, and I replied, “If that makes you happy, then congratulations.” Suddenly, his mood shifted; he became serious and reflective. “I feel terrible for being happy about this, but it gives me freedom and her freedom too. She’s not a bad woman, but sometimes things just don’t work out.” I agreed and asked what his next steps were. He explained, “The house we live in belongs to her. I agreed to let her keep it for the sake of our two kids. I’m working here now, and once this contract ends, I’ll find a new place, pack my things, and start anew.”

Since he hadn’t found a new place yet, he stayed in the same house with his ex whenever he returned to Kumasi, as per their agreement until he could relocate. He would go back to Kumasi every weekend and return on Mondays, sometimes staying longer to finish work.

Not long after, he proposed. “You’re a wonderful woman. I appreciate your honesty and how you bring out the best in me. I’m starting a new life soon and want to begin it with you. Since you’re here, it makes things easier. I can just move from there to settle with you.” Truthfully, I liked him too. His openness about his situation and acceptance of his flaws resonated with me. I said yes, and we began making plans for our future together.

He moved from the hotel where he was staying to live with me. Although my place wasn’t large, we planned to move out as soon as possible. We were happy, and love was treating us well. Each night after work, we would stay up talking about everything and nothing. He would make me laugh until my sides hurt.

Then, our relationship took an unexpected turn. If a car had made such a sharp turn, it would have likely flipped over. That’s exactly what happened to me—I got pregnant.

When I shared the news with him, he didn’t react with the shock I anticipated. Instead, he asked, “What’s the best option for you right now? Are you comfortable having a child out of wedlock?” It was too soon for me to process. My mind was racing. “Should I or shouldn’t I?”

At thirty-three, I wasn’t exactly young. “What if this is the only child I ever have? Children born out of wedlock aren’t any different from others, right? Yes, I will have the baby, married or not. It will be mine to love and care for.” The next morning, I told him, “I’ve decided to have the baby. I’m not a child to shy away from decisions like this. I’m ready.” He replied, “If you’ve made that decision, then I can’t say much about it.”

By the time I reached my second trimester, he completed his contract with my company. He stayed around for a while before returning to Kumasi, assuring me he would tell his ex-wife about me and finally move in with me. He called often, doing video calls to check on me and how the baby was developing.

I didn’t expect him to stay in Kumasi for over two months. He mentioned pursuing other contracts, and sometimes he said his ex-wife was making things difficult after learning about me, which prevented him from retrieving certain belongings from their home. Each day brought new excuses, but as my due date approached, I wanted him to be there for the birth. A week before I was due, it became hard to reach him. Sometimes his phone was off, or he wouldn’t answer my calls. I thought he was just busy, as he often was.

One late night, I called, and the voice that answered was not what I expected. It was a woman’s voice. “Hello, I’m Agyeman’s wife. He’s currently sleeping, but you can leave a message.” He had told me he had already spoken to his ex-wife about me, so I felt no need to be concerned. I replied, “Please let him know I called, and he should return my call when he wakes up.” She asked, “Who are you?” I said, “If he sees my name, he’ll know.”

I didn’t intend to be rude, but she interpreted my response that way and confronted me. “Listen, young woman, your name isn’t saved on this phone. How dare you call a married man late at night and speak rudely to his wife? Don’t you have any manners?” I was close to delivery, and my hormones were all over the place. I wasn’t going to tolerate a lecture from an ex-wife who didn’t know her place, so I snapped back, “Hasn’t he told you about me already? What more do you want to know? And why do you still call yourself a wife when the divorce you sought has been granted?”

“Divorce? Who told you about a divorce?”

We spent nearly ten minutes on the phone exchanging heated words. It became clear that neither of us knew what we were talking about. She even suggested I had called the wrong number, but eventually, she hung up.

The next morning, I received a call from an unknown number. She said, “Young lady, last night was rough for both of us, but it’s a new day. Let’s talk woman to woman. Who are you, and what divorce were you referring to last night?”

We ended up on the phone for nearly two hours, both of us breaking down in tears.

He had lied about everything the issues with his wife, the divorce, the plans to move out, everything! His wife said, “You’re not the first victim of his lies. You might be the second person I know of who has suffered this fate. The first was two years ago. He got her pregnant, but she discovered the truth early and had an abortion. That was when I considered divorcing him. Yes, we had problems, and our marriage was shaky, but I learned to forgive him. I didn’t want nearly a decade of marriage to go to waste, so I stayed.”

I was devastated that day, crying like a baby. “How could I have believed him so easily without asking questions?”

When he called later, he sounded remorseful, but all I could ask was, “Why? Why me? Why did you lie? Why did you come into my life at all? How could you be so cruel?”

He had no answers. All he said was, “I’ll make it up to you.” I replied, “How do you make up for a wasted life? How do you restore the tears? How do you fix what’s broken? I’m here, shattered, when all I need is strength to bring a baby into the world. I’m wasting my energy on tears that shouldn’t have happened, and all you can say is you’ll make it up to me? If you come near me again, I swear I’ll hurt you.”

I stopped answering his calls. When he continued to call, I blocked his number. His wife was kind; she called every day to check on me. She encouraged me and told me not to judge myself but to keep moving forward. I appreciated her calls and began to look forward to them.

Two weeks later, I gave birth. Looking at my baby, I remembered a poem I had read:

Ten little fingers  
And ten little toes.  
The sweetest of smiles  
And a cute little nose,  
All these add up  
To the same precious thing a baby  
The greatest of gifts life can bring!

She was beautiful and innocent. For a few moments, I forgot the circumstances surrounding her birth and immersed myself in loving her. If that was the price I had to pay for believing in his lies, I would endure the pain but have no regrets.

Two days after my delivery, his wife called to congratulate me. Again, she motivated me and urged me to stay strong. We talked about other things as well. A week after I gave birth, my mom came to tell me, “You have a visitor.” Guess who it was? The man’s wife. She had promised to visit, and she indeed came. Before leaving, she said, “Don’t be too hard on yourself, and don’t let others’ opinions about what you went through bring you down. You’ll be okay. I’m leaving him too. He will finally get the divorce he lied about. I deserve better!” 

—Eno

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