The Lesson My Husband’s Side Chick Taught Me

Bernice is my name. Please take some time to read my tale and forward it to all wives worldwide; by doing so, you might be able to save a house.
I have a wonderful, caring husband who works as an executive and graduated with honors from Unilag. In everything he touches, he is nearly flawless. When we were on campus, he was the center of attention for every lady, but in the end, he made the decision to pursue me and get married.

We were like two lovebirds, and our marriage was like bliss on earth. Even though my husband travels frequently for work, we are still extremely close over the phone and via video conversations. When he returns home, it’s like a king returning to his palace; he brings loads of gifts for his family, especially for his lovely Queen, as he used to call me.
After seven years of marriage, it seemed like our story of love would never end—that is, until a few months ago, when my life fell apart.

In addition to traveling on weekends and staying up late, my spouse has been doing these things, but I never questioned him because I assumed it was all part of his profession and the fact that he always called to let me know where he was.

A few months prior, on a national holiday, my spouse was working on his laptop when his phone rang. It was a friend calling to ask him to pick up some documents from a few blocks away, and because the man sounded quite urgent, he jumped up and left right immediately. He was in the process of doing something else, and in the process, he forgot to shut down his laptop. I was walking by when I suddenly looked over to shut down the laptop, and what I saw was an email from a girl who I felt was more than just my husband’s colleague. However, the email did not really give me any indication that my husband was cheating on me.

thus I choose to look into it more.
When I attempted to check his phone, I realized for the first time that it was password-protected. I then set out to find the code, which I eventually figured out after three weeks. I’m a woman; I should be able to tell you everything that goes on in my home, so I won’t tell you how. Although I received the code, I later regretted doing so.
What I discovered on the phone nearly sent me to the hospital—many conversations with women, sultry, attractive, and nude photos of girls, among other things.

Through their talks, I learned that this particular girl, who appeared to be his regular girlfriend and knew everything about him, also knew my name and the names of all of my children. She gave me her name and phone number.
I went to Facebook to find out more details on this girl, but I was unsure of what to do with it.

When I later confronted my husband, he initially denied it but eventually admitted to it, apologized, and said he would change. In reality, though, he was becoming worse. That’s when I made the decision to take action. I presented myself as Bode’s wife to the girl over the phone, Chika, and to my surprise, she gave me a warm greeting. After presenting her with the facts, I lost my temper and started to yell at her, swearing, crying, abusing her, and her parents.

When I got tired of yelling at the girl, I told her to leave my husband alone, but she remained silent the entire time I was on the phone.
However, she remained silent, so I hung up the phone. I felt triumphant and content, wanting to treat myself to something nice for a job well done.

Three hours or so later, the girl returned the call. I was startled out of my sleep by what she said. I chose to record her call as proof against my husband, but the conversation ended up being a criticism of my femininity and a slight to my status as a wife.
“Aunty, I’m not calling you back to offend you; instead, I’m calling to tell you about things you don’t know,” she remarked. You should be appreciating and even paying me for the work I’m doing on your behalf, not arguing with me;

You used to be very respectful, loving, and you gave him quality sex on a regular basis, but after the birth of your second child and your promotion to the Managerial level at work, you suddenly changed, and now all doors of interaction and intimacy are firmly shut. Sex to you is like house chores, and you complain about it, run away from it, give countless excuses, sleep off when your husband is having sex with you (How dare you), and use every excuse in the book to avoid it. Your husband told me everything about you, saying that you hate sex like a plaque. If this is a lie, please let me know, and I will immediately leave your husband.

He warned that if you let any sexual activity at all, you will act like a victim of a soldier’s beating, squeezing your face like a child receiving punishment.
Additionally, he said that you always wear your complete military uniform to bed since you enjoy wearing jeans and panties at night and don’t mind if you go months without having sex.

“Aunty, allow me to ask you a question. When was the last time you shared a bed with your husband?” she asked. Have you not noticed that your husband hasn’t asked you out for sex in a few months?
and you chose to ignore it. I wonder why you are fighting with him for sleeping with me when I have been helping you out and you should be grateful to me.

You must pay me for the work that I am merely assisting you with because it is quite challenging for you.
I didn’t worry myself when your husband told me you’d found out about our affair and he wanted to stop sleeping with me because I knew he can’t live without me and that he will want more after what I’ve given him in bed.

After he disappeared for two weeks, he returned, squealing at my door to have sex. I offered him the kind of sex that will make him forget your name and address.
You see, a clever girl like me has to take a nice man away from a reckless woman like you.
If you want your husband back, don’t fight me and focus on improving yourself. If you don’t, some other girls who are more naughty than me will take over and they might even grab him away from you and marry him if he stops sleeping with me or I decide to end the relationship like you proposed.

Your husband is safe with me, Aunty, as I will never marry him. Like you, I am married and have two kids, and my husband lives in the US. I only want to have sex with him, but you will have him back.
I don’t even ask for or collect money from him; I don’t need it. Instead, I spend the dollars that my foolish husband sends me every week, leaving a passionate lady like me on her own and believing that I should padlock my underwear until he returns, whenever that may be.

That’s when your husband steps in to satisfy my erotic needs and stroke my back, and I do the same for him, giving him something his wife will never give.
You are irresponsible with your superb bedroom expert, just as my husband is negligent with his priceless treasure.
A firecracker in the bedroom resulted from the meeting of two hungry persons and two irresponsible people.

I will never say “not tonight dear” or “My back, my head.” I got the energy because I am wiser than you wives who said “yes I do” on your wedding day but will never “do” and instead prefer to jump on phones to fight girls who are sleeping with their husbands—girls that they should be paying for helping them to do their jobs. Stop fighting innocent girls everywhere and go back to bed. Be a wife, not just a manager at work or a mother. Remember, I work in a company too and I also raise my two children alone.

You will have ample time for your career if I receive payment each time I have sex with your husband on your behalf. No one is kidnapping your husband; you are the one who misplaces him.”

I was really confused after she hung up the phone. I listened to the call repeatedly, verified that everything she said was true, and tried to find out when I had last slept with my husband. I found out it was before Christmas of last year, when he had just arrived from South Africa and brought me some gifts. However, that was almost five months ago.

He then tried to sleep with me, but I rejected him and made up reasons, so he stopped yelling at me. I was relieved that he had changed for the better. I’ll admit that I used to think of him as a sex addict. “Is it food?”

I had assumed that his addiction had been overcome. However, it dawned on me that since he stopped requesting sex at home, he had found other options. Yes, it was my fault; I should have pushed him out, but can I ever have him again? After tasting a naughty girl like Chika, how can I compare to that performance? I sobbed for several hours.
My husband did not return home that evening at all. He texted me, saying, “overnight duty at work.” I knew Chika was on duty, so I called her. She assured me he was in her safe hands and that I shouldn’t worry.