The Married Man Who Broke Me: A Story of Love, Loss, and Regret

I dated a married man — a man who walked away from his wife and two kids just to be with me. We relocated to Abuja so his ex-wife wouldn’t always bump into us. Our love was like fire. He worshipped the ground I walked on, and I gave him all of me. Me — a woman who once swore never to date a married man. Me — who swore I would never be a second wife.

I thought I had won, but love turned me into the very person I’d condemned. I was 35 when I met him. By then life had beaten me like rain: single men had used me, married men had used me, and then moved on. So when this man came, treating me like a queen, I said, “Let me give it a try.” He never disappointed — at least at first.

A few months later I discovered I was pregnant. He held me close and whispered, “I will leave my wife and kids for you.” I didn’t believe him — until he did. He left them. He relocated with me to Abuja. I lived a soft, sweet, beautiful life. He promised to come see my people soon.

But in May my world collapsed. I lost the pregnancy. I slipped in the bathroom while bathing and they rushed me to the hospital. The doctor’s words tore my heart into pieces. When we returned home I was no longer myself. Something inside me snapped. I cut my hair with scissors. I tore my school certificates. I destroyed the TV and the expensive things in the house. My lover became scared. He called my younger brother to check on me. The moment my brother arrived, my man traveled — he left me. Even my brother was afraid of me.

One month later there was a knock at the door. It was the landlord’s lawyer. He said the rent had expired. Expired? That was when I found out my lover had only paid for three months. The house wasn’t even ours. I tried to call him, only to discover I had already been blocked. My brother and I packed out. We returned to the village.

Since then my mother has been dragging me from church to church for deliverance. I’m slowly recovering, but the wound in my heart refuses to heal. Just recently I heard the news: the man who left his wife and kids for me — the man who promised me forever — has reconciled with his wife.

My life is going down day by day. Sometimes I ask myself: should I apologize to his wife? Or should I accept that I am the one who destroyed myself?