He slēpt with hēr right in fr0nt of mē, without minding my presence. And I was still in my wedding gown when all these were happening. But what I did next shocked them. I didn't say anything o. I just went and carried...
.
MY HUSBAND BROUGHT ANOTHER WOMAN HOME ON OUR WEDDING NIGHT
Chapter 1
They said marriage changes a woman.
They didn’t say it would happen in one night.
The hotel room was cold—too cold for comfort, too quiet for celebration. My wedding dress clung to my skin, the lace already itchy. My hands smelled of fried rice, perfume, and sweat. I had waited over an hour, seated on the edge of the hotel bed, legs pressed together, heart trembling like a candle in wind.
Tonight was supposed to be the beginning.
My beginning.
But Chuka wasn’t picking his calls.
I dialed again.
Switched off.
I dropped the phone. Picked it again. Put it down. Repeated it like prayer.
A knock came at the door.
Not hurried. Not soft. Just... calm.
I jumped to my feet and smoothed the dress even though it was crumpled from sitting. I checked the mirror one last time. My lipstick was fading, but I still looked like a bride.
I opened the door with a smile I forced.
And then I froze.
Chuka stood there, yes.
But he wasn’t alone.
There was a woman beside him.
Tall. Beautiful. Red lips, long hair. Dressed in white silk like she belonged in perfume commercials. Like she belonged beside him.
She didn’t look surprised to see me.
She looked... bored.
“Ezinne,” Chuka said. “Let’s go inside.”
I stepped back slowly, eyes darting between both of them. “Who is she?”
“She’s with me.”
I stared at him. “With you? As in?”
“She stays with me.”
My smile died.
“Tonight?”
“Every night.”
The woman walked past me like it was her wedding suite. Like she’d been here before. She kicked off her heels, sat on the bed, and unzipped her purse. Comfortable. Confident.
“Chuka,” I whispered, feeling my chest tighten. “I don’t understand.”
He shut the door behind him. “She’s part of this marriage. That’s how things work. You’re the wife. She’s... Amaka.”
Amaka.
Her name was Amaka.
I wanted to laugh. Or scream. Or disappear.
“You’re joking,” I said.
“No, I’m not.” His voice didn’t rise. It didn’t shake. It was the same tone he used when he ordered fried rice with no pepper. “If you can’t accept that, you can leave.”
The words didn’t make sense.
I didn’t move.
I just stood there.
My veil slipped to the floor.
Amaka picked it up, looked at me, and said with a small smile, “You’ll get used to it.”
I ran.
Out the door.
Down the hall.
No slippers, no bag.
Just my legs, my wedding dress, and a sound in my throat I couldn’t name.
Outside, the night air hit my skin like slap. I sat on the stairs behind the building and cried. Not loud. Just small, broken sobs that nobody would hear. My phone vibrated in my hand.
It was my mother.
I picked.
“Mama…”
She didn’t let me finish.
“Ezinne, please don’t disgrace us.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You’re married now. Endure. At least he married you. At least you’re not like some girls jumping from one man to another.”
I held the phone away from my ear.
I couldn’t breathe.
I had just been replaced—in my own marriage. And my mother called it endurance.
The line went dead.
I looked up at the sky. The stars were watching.
God was watching.
And I whispered, “Why me?”
But the night gave no answer.
Only the wind.
While I'm trying my best to impress you guys, biko, make ona react and co.m.me.nt so I'd know if I should go on with this story. Please read the notice below:
To be continued...
Follow EMMACK for the next episode
He slēpt with hēr right in fr0nt of mē, without minding my presence. And I was still in my wedding gown when all these were happening. But what I did next shocked them. I didn't say anything o. I just went and carried...
.
MY HUSBAND BROUGHT ANOTHER WOMAN HOME ON OUR WEDDING NIGHT
Chapter 1
They said marriage changes a woman.
They didn’t say it would happen in one night.
The hotel room was cold—too cold for comfort, too quiet for celebration. My wedding dress clung to my skin, the lace already itchy. My hands smelled of fried rice, perfume, and sweat. I had waited over an hour, seated on the edge of the hotel bed, legs pressed together, heart trembling like a candle in wind.
Tonight was supposed to be the beginning.
My beginning.
But Chuka wasn’t picking his calls.
I dialed again.
Switched off.
I dropped the phone. Picked it again. Put it down. Repeated it like prayer.
A knock came at the door.
Not hurried. Not soft. Just... calm.
I jumped to my feet and smoothed the dress even though it was crumpled from sitting. I checked the mirror one last time. My lipstick was fading, but I still looked like a bride.
I opened the door with a smile I forced.
And then I froze.
Chuka stood there, yes.
But he wasn’t alone.
There was a woman beside him.
Tall. Beautiful. Red lips, long hair. Dressed in white silk like she belonged in perfume commercials. Like she belonged beside him.
She didn’t look surprised to see me.
She looked... bored.
“Ezinne,” Chuka said. “Let’s go inside.”
I stepped back slowly, eyes darting between both of them. “Who is she?”
“She’s with me.”
I stared at him. “With you? As in?”
“She stays with me.”
My smile died.
“Tonight?”
“Every night.”
The woman walked past me like it was her wedding suite. Like she’d been here before. She kicked off her heels, sat on the bed, and unzipped her purse. Comfortable. Confident.
“Chuka,” I whispered, feeling my chest tighten. “I don’t understand.”
He shut the door behind him. “She’s part of this marriage. That’s how things work. You’re the wife. She’s... Amaka.”
Amaka.
Her name was Amaka.
I wanted to laugh. Or scream. Or disappear.
“You’re joking,” I said.
“No, I’m not.” His voice didn’t rise. It didn’t shake. It was the same tone he used when he ordered fried rice with no pepper. “If you can’t accept that, you can leave.”
The words didn’t make sense.
I didn’t move.
I just stood there.
My veil slipped to the floor.
Amaka picked it up, looked at me, and said with a small smile, “You’ll get used to it.”
I ran.
Out the door.
Down the hall.
No slippers, no bag.
Just my legs, my wedding dress, and a sound in my throat I couldn’t name.
Outside, the night air hit my skin like slap. I sat on the stairs behind the building and cried. Not loud. Just small, broken sobs that nobody would hear. My phone vibrated in my hand.
It was my mother.
I picked.
“Mama…”
She didn’t let me finish.
“Ezinne, please don’t disgrace us.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You’re married now. Endure. At least he married you. At least you’re not like some girls jumping from one man to another.”
I held the phone away from my ear.
I couldn’t breathe.
I had just been replaced—in my own marriage. And my mother called it endurance.
The line went dead.
I looked up at the sky. The stars were watching.
God was watching.
And I whispered, “Why me?”
But the night gave no answer.
Only the wind.
While I'm trying my best to impress you guys, biko, make ona react and co.m.me.nt so I'd know if I should go on with this story. Please read the notice below:
To be continued...
Follow EMMACK for the next episode
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