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Gaya

My life was near perfect, or so I thought. I had gotten married to a beautiful wife named Sarah. She was a devout Christian, a thriving business woman and a very doting wife. I had never even harbored the thought of cheating on her unlike a host of my other friends who harbored thoughts of cheating on their spouses or were already cheating on their spouses.&nbsp;

&nbsp;We had been married for 6 years and our marriage was one that was built on love, trust and support. Everything changed when Mmeso came to visit. It was 2 weeks&nbsp; after my wife and I welcomed our first baby. Mmeso had come to stay with my mother in law for a while. My mother-in-law left after some months, while Mmeso continued to stay with us. Prior to Mmeso staying with us, I did not know much about her besides the tiny bits that my wife fed me.&nbsp;

I found her to be a very interesting character at first. While she was 23 to my 38, she had a wisdom about her that bespoke her age.&nbsp; She was also very free spirited and someone who really loved to live&nbsp; life on her terms. She was very adventurous, spontaneous, and her presence was like a breath of fresh air.

She started to fill my silence on nights when my wife would be tired of having conversations. My wife had become worn out and irritable since having the baby and while I understood it perfectly, I needed an escape. Mmeson became my escape unknown to me.

It first started with light conversations after dinner, where I asked her about school and her dreams for the future. And she would excitedly tell me, eyes beaming. There was something radiant and youthful about her aura that unconsciously lured me in.&nbsp;&nbsp;I started to look forward to coming home just so that I could be greeted with her laughter and conversations.&nbsp;

At first, I thought it was a normal admiration or love without any romantic strings based on the fact that she was my wife’s sister. However the more time we spent together, the more I started to feel things. I would get a very warm stirring each time our eyes would meet in a room.

Mmeso was magnetic in a way that defied explanation. Her spirit was infectious, her eyes danced with mischief, and I couldn't help but be drawn to her like a moth to a flame. I told myself it was a passing infatuation, a fleeting desire that would soon fade away.

But as days turned into weeks, my feelings deepened, and I found myself thinking about her while lying next to my wife Sarah. While my wife slept most nights, we would watch reruns of movies in the sitting room, the tension building up between us.&nbsp;Our conversations were a dance of hidden meanings and stolen glances, a dangerous game that neither of us dared to acknowledge.

The more time I spent with her, the more I realized that I had deep feelings for her. I tried to kill the attraction. How could I have such stirrings of&nbsp; feelings for my wife’s sister? How could I harbor such feelings when my wife had just given birth to my bay? What kind of father and husband was I? All these thoughts tore at me. The guilt gnawed at my conscience, but hard as I tried, I couldn't control the yearning that consumed me.

I knew it was wrong, that I was betraying the woman who had given me her heart but I couldn’t stop myself.&nbsp;

I knew Sarah deserved better than this, better than a husband who couldn't resist the allure of her own flesh and blood.&nbsp;I couldn’t tell Mmeso to leave so as not to raise suspicions from my wife because I would have to give a tangible reason and she didn’t look like she wanted to leave. While we never talked about what existed between us, we both knew there was something there.

I tried to distance myself from Mmeso to keep our interactions to a minimum, but fate seemed determined to conspire against me.

It was on a Sunday evening and Sarah was away visiting a sick friend. I had gone into the kitchen to get a glass of water when I stumbled into Mmeso wearing a towel hiding a kettle with warm water in one hand. It looked like she was on her way to take her bath.

The towel was modest, but there was something about me knowing that she was naked underneath the towel that undid me.&nbsp;

I couldn’t refuse it. I advanced towards her and she stood rooted to the spot. I carefully took the kettle from her and dropped it on the gas burner and held her hand.&nbsp;

I noticed she was shaking. Feeling worried that I might have upset her, I immediately removed my hands from hers but when I was about to leave, she grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and kissed me.&nbsp;

It was a small brush of lips and we immediately pulled apart from each other. I could see the regret in her face and I was pretty sure it mirrored mine too.

For the rest of the evening till Sarah came home, I stayed in the master bedroom I shared with her. I was afraid to come out. I was scared of what I might do, if I came out to meet her.&nbsp;

A week later, Mmeso told my wife she had to leave urgently because she had a school course to register. I knew it was a lie but I was both relieved and sad that she was leaving.&nbsp;

In the aftermath of that night, I’ve been left in a state of turmoil. One of the emotions I feel is guilt but even more than the guilt, is the craving I feel for her.

I miss her so bad. Her laughter, her youthful exuberance and the rush of adrenaline I get each time I see her. It’s been a long time since I felt that.&nbsp;

Thoughts of her were leaving me breathless even though she is no longer with us. It’s becoming more impossible each day to get her out of my head, and the guilt of feeling the way I do weighs on me like a heavy crown. As the days turn into weeks, I realize I can’t&nbsp; continue down this treacherous path.

I have&nbsp; to confront my feelings, my betrayal, and open up to someone about this.

I feel like I have to make a choice but I don’t know what choice to make and I don't know what the consequences of these choices would be.&nbsp;

It feels like no matter which path I chose, I will still be weighed down by the decision.&nbsp;

 ''My wife had become worn out and irritable since having the baby and while I understood it perfectly, I needed an escape. Mmeso became my escape.''



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