He Wanted My Womb And Hid His Secret Marriage

Dear Milord,

It has been two years, yet the pain lingers; it continues to haunt me. Each dawn, I awaken with sorrow, and I realize that no amount of therapy or counseling will erase it.

It was just another day on Facebook when I noticed your message notification. Typically, I avoid reading messages due to the cheesy pickup lines from predatory men and scammers, but something about yours caught my attention and touched my heart. Your command of the English language was concise and impeccable, and the tone was remarkably intelligent, prompting me to respond. We ended up texting until dawn, and I genuinely enjoyed every moment of our conversation.

We quickly connected and became inseparable. Our relationship blossomed, filled with joy and laughter. You shared your daily activities with me and included me in every aspect of your life. I found it hard to put my phone down, eagerly awaiting your messages or video calls. Our Netflix nights, wrapped in warm blankets, and our conversations about childhood memories were delightful and kept our bond strong. You would hover around the kitchen while I cooked your favorite “jollof rice,” playfully massaging my neck and shoulders, asking, “Is it not done yet? I’ve been starving for a hundred years.” These moments made me laugh endlessly. It felt so loving and affectionate, but little did I know it was all an illusion. You were quite skilled at what you were doing.

I was deeply in love, but shadows of impending events loomed. You began to call less frequently, resorting to one-word responses and cleverly making excuses when I wanted to visit you, and vice versa.

Then, I had a vivid dream that felt incredibly real. God revealed your secrets to me. Upon waking, it felt as if my Guardian Angel was beside me, guiding me to your Facebook wall. I noticed a feminine name and typed it into the search bar, only to find the very woman I had seen in my dream, wearing the same outfit. I was startled by the rapid and overwhelming events; it was terrifying.

I clicked on her profile and discovered a collection of wedding photos, showcasing your union for all to see. The love and excitement radiating from you both were unmistakable. Milord, you were a married man! I fainted and lost my sanity. When I regained consciousness, I found myself in a hospital bed, and no amount of sedatives could calm me, leading to an overdose to help me sleep. No blanket could warm the chill in my soul that night. I wished I would never wake up. The pain and grief were unbearable. How could you be so cruel?

I gathered my strength and sent you the wedding pictures, and your only concern was your wife discovering our relationship. You showed no care for me while I lay in that hospital bed, nor did you bother to visit. Instead, you threatened me over the phone, insisting I keep it a secret.

Eventually, you looked me in the eye and confessed that you only wanted my womb. Not even as a surrogate with compensation, but to have a child with me, take the child away, and discard me once you had what you wanted because your wife was barren. To think your mother was complicit in this all along. How can a mother and son be so heartless? I thought such things only happened in movies, yet here I am. How could I have allowed myself to fall victim to your wicked schemes? A mother with a daughter my age colluded with you to betray someone’s daughter—me!

You blocked me on both your and your wife’s Facebook pages, cutting off all communication. The home I believed was yours was merely one of many, and the car was just one of a fleet you used to deceive vulnerable women like me, searching for love and a partner.

Reflecting on our time together and the information I gathered, I am convinced you deliberately tried to impregnate me, but thankfully, it always coincided with my “safe periods.” Now I understand why you asked questions like, “Are you fertile?” and “I hope you’re not on contraceptives,” which I found odd at the time. It all makes sense now; you were on a sinister mission.

It has been two years now. Perhaps you have found another fool to bear your child, or maybe you paid a surrogate and now have a child, or perhaps fate has smiled upon your wife, and you both have a child now.

You not only disrespected me as a human being but also humiliated me and tarnished the very essence of my womanhood, reducing me to nothing with your malevolent actions.

You never apologized or showed any care or remorse for the harm you caused me. Honestly, I do not wish you well.

You boasted that you had gotten away with it, urging me to move on. But you haven’t escaped. No, you will never escape.

On my birthday, I asked God that it may not be well with you, your marriage, your household, and your entire lineage.

I leave it in His hands because He knows the consequences that await you.

—Sandra