Betraying A Faithful Wife

By Josephy Chimsewu
Josephy Chimsewu's stories

I never believed my friends when they told me my husband was a cheater, until Chimwemwe showed me a picture of a girl who worked for him, holding a child that looked exactly like him. She had been my close friend for years, and our bond was unshakable, but she had her reasons to reveal this truth.

After she showed me the picture, I felt the world collapsing under my feet. I grabbed her hand and said, “I need to talk to you in private.”

Chimwemwe, who had always been the confident, reliable one in our friendship, took me to her office. As she softly closed the door with both her hands, I couldn’t help but sense a hidden agenda, she seemed a bit too calm, too certain of herself.

“I really can’t believe what you showed me. Show me the picture again, and zoom in. I’m losing my mind,” I said.

Chimwemwe sighed, “I used to tell you about it, but you wouldn’t hear me.” Handing me the phone, she said, “Here’s the truth.”

I looked at the photo again, and then gave her the phone back. With my head in my hands, I felt my emotions spiraling. “My dear friend, I believe you now… I don’t know what to do now. I’m super confused.”

“You never trusted me, and you seem to find it hard to believe others until you witness it yourself.”

“You’re right…”

Chimwemwe nodded. “I understand you, my dear. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, but I think I have to go home and rest because this is too much for me to carry.”

“It sounds like a good idea. I feel bad for you, my dear. I can’t imagine how you are feeling now.”

“Why would he do this to me? Is there anything I didn’t give him as a woman? I just want to go home and see if I can sleep.”

After I went home, I prayed to God, hoping for some clarity, but I couldn’t help but wonder if Chimwemwe had her own motives in exposing my husband’s infidelity. Was she a reliable narrator or did she have an agenda of her own?

I prayed for a long time, begging for the strength to navigate the storm that had entered my life. Afterward, I couldn’t eat, lacking both appetite and peace. Desperate for relief, I tried to sleep but couldn’t find rest.

I called Chimwemwe, voicing my struggles. She suggested drinking water, but my hunger and restlessness remained. “Please, can you at least come over and give me company? Maybe that would ease the confusion I’m feeling.”

“I’ll see if I can make it.”

I was just about to hang up when heard a knock on the door. “Let me call you back, Chimwemwe. Someone’s at the door. It might be my husband.”

When I opened the door, I was surprised to see Chimwemwe standing there. “I thought you would wait until the time you promised to come,” I said, questioning her unexpected visit.

She smiled, though I couldn’t shake the feeling that her surprise visit had its own purpose. “I wanted to surprise you, and I’m glad it worked. Hope this surprise helps you stop overthinking.”

“I don’t understand, why didn’t you just tell me you were here on the phone? Is something wrong?” I asked.

“Okay, maybe I overdid it surprising you. I’m sorry if it seems that way,” she said.

I brushed it off, and we decided to go for a walk. I changed into suitable attire, and we headed to a nearby place called Mdunje.

Before leaving, I saw my husband returning home. I hadn’t spoken to him since my friend had revealed his infidelity, the tension between us was almost unbearable.

“Let’s go,” I told Chimwemwe, grabbing her arm, “I don’t want to see him.”

“I can’t allow you to just leave like that when your man is here. It’s not a good idea,” said Chimwemwe. “I’m sorry if it seems like I’m abandoning you.”

“Fine, if that’s what you want, then leave,” I said.

My husband closed the door behind him, and said he was exhausted from work and wanted to go to bed right away. I started watching a movie to distract myself, however I kept feeling more and more tense. I wanted my husband regret his actions, I even contemplated the thought of taking revenge. My emotions were a whirlwind, and I felt lost in the storm.

Finally, I couldn’t contain myself any longer. “Papa Nadeje, wake up. I want to talk to you, and it’s a serious matter,” I demanded as I entered the bedroom.

My husband, appearing tired and weary, responded, “Mama Nadeje, what’s wrong now? I’m tired, and I’m not in the mood for talking. Why didn’t you talk when I arrived?”

“Have a look at this photo, and then we can talk.”

His initial reaction was anger and denial. “Are you mad? What are you talking about? Chifundo is just a friend to me, and there is nothing going on. Do you want to say that I look like her child? That’s nonsense.”

His quick temper and sudden exit revealed more than words could express. He left and didn’t return home for almost a week. It was clear that my husband was not prepared to face the consequences of his actions.

During that time, I gathered enough evidence to confirm that he had been secretly living with Chifundo. It was a heartbreak that pushed me to make a difficult decision. I moved to my father’s home with my children, no longer paying rent for the house we once shared.

The pain of betrayal had left an indelible mark on my trust in men, but I was determined to be an independent woman, relying on my own strength to survive the turmoil of my life.

31 October, 2023