He Told Me to Hide... Then His Wife Walked In

The knock came unexpectedly, and his voice carried a sense of urgency. He tapped my thighs three times and whispered, “Mather, get up, my wife is here.” I thought I misheard him. He repeated, “I said find somewhere to hide; my wife is here.”

I froze, stunned. “Your wife? You mean you’re married?” He replied, “This isn’t the time for questions. We’ll both be in danger if she finds you here.”

Peering out the window, I saw a woman stepping out of a taxi and making her way toward our door. “Is that your wife?” I nearly shouted. He grabbed my hand and pulled me from the bedroom into a room closer to the exit, instructing, “As soon as she enters the bedroom, open the door slowly and sneak out.”

It felt surreal, like a scene from a movie—or perhaps a nightmare I wished to escape. “Nana is married? Or is he just playing tricks on me?” I pondered.

When he first proposed to me, I declined because I was already involved with someone—Ben. We had been together for nearly three years when Nana approached me with his proposal. I explained my refusal: “I have a wonderful gentleman in my life, and we’re heading toward marriage. I don’t want to jeopardize that.”

He accepted my reasoning and suggested we be friends, which I agreed to. Despite this, he continued to express his feelings and even attempted to kiss me at one point. I recognized his affection but dismissed it as a passing fancy. For two years, he remained close, trying to win me over and convince me to leave Ben for him.

Nana was quite the gentleman, always dressed in suits of various colors and styles. I affectionately called him “Coat of Many Colors.”

Ben and I had our share of arguments, eventually leading to a breakup. He later settled down with the girl he had been cheating with. I didn’t inform Nana of my split with Ben, but he found out and proposed again. I still said no. He insisted, “I’ve been with you for two years. You know me. If I were a bad person, you would have figured that out by now. Just give me a chance to prove myself.”

After much persuasion, I finally agreed to spend a night with him—just once.

So, I remained in the room he had directed me to, listening for the right moment to slip away. Nana approached the door to greet her, acting all affectionate as if he hadn’t just spent the night with me. They walked past the door that kept me hidden and entered the bedroom. I could hear their conversation, and then the bedroom door slammed shut.

It was the perfect moment to escape, but I hesitated. Nothing about Nana indicated he was married. Nothing at all. I had known him for two years. “Or maybe she’s just another girlfriend who showed up unexpectedly, and he wanted to get rid of me?” I thought, feeling confused and uneasy.

Instead of sneaking out, I opened my door and walked toward the bedroom door. I knocked softly, and he hurried to answer. The woman followed closely behind. I noticed her wedding ring, and she looked bewildered. “How did you get in? Who are you?” she asked. I replied, “I wanted to confirm if you were his wife. I’ve known him for two years and recently became his girlfriend. I had no idea he was married until this morning. He told me to hide when you arrived, but I couldn’t bear the guilt. I feel deceived. I’m sorry.”

The woman appeared stunned, as if she were watching a scene unfold in a film. Nana had already vanished from sight. I began to walk away, but she called out for me to wait. She was so shocked that she struggled to form coherent sentences, bombarding me with questions that I answered while Nana remained in the room, too cowardly to face us.

I left the house feeling a sense of relief. I was glad I hadn’t sneaked out. Whatever happened to him afterward, he deserved it.

—Irene  
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