SO NOT LOVE
Author’s Note: This story is based on what some people go through in their marriages or relationships, so read and learn. Some scenes might be too hard to believe but trust me, they really happen. This is a true life story.
I got married to the worst man on Earth. He was the exact definition of the devil’s incarnate. I never loved him but my parents had forced me into the marriage. I rued the day I had finally succumbed to marry him since my mother wouldn’t stop lamenting and telling me how ungrateful I was while my father threatened to disown me if I didn’t accept the proposal. I had met my husband while I was going to Jamb lesson in Lagos. He had been 29 then, precisely 10 years older than I was. I was just a naive little girl who wanted to focus on her education and be a TV presenter. My husband, Daniel, had refused to give me a breathing space. He would come over to the Jamb lesson center and begin to confess how much he loved me and how he couldn’t get me off his mind ever since he laid his eyes upon me.
He had pressured me but I stood my ground until he suddenly appeared in my house unannounced. I had been in my room when my younger brother, Emma, had told me that my father wanted to see me and that I had a visitor. Curious and also puzzled, I had gone into sitting room to find Daniel laughing with my father as he sipped a bottle of maltina my mother must have offered him. I was angry. I felt like screaming at him but the respect I had for my father restrained me. Ever since that day, Daniel automatically became a member of the family. He came and went whenever he liked and no matter how much I tried to avoid him, my parents would never allow me. They stated that I should be glad that a wealthy and handsome guy like Daniel was interested in me and since I was the first daughter, I had to do the needful by giving Daniel some attention.
Things became worse after Daniel became financially helpful to my family. My father praised him and called him his son. My mother worshipped the very ground he walked on especially when he helped her stock up her provision shop. Against my wish but with the support of my family, Daniel had single-handedly sponsored my education and now he was the one paying the tuition fees of my two younger siblings, Linda and Emmanuel. I didn’t have a say to decide my life at this point. My opinion was tagged useless and childish. My father would blackmail me with the Bible verse which read: “Children, honour thy father and mother so thy days shall be long.”
He claimed that if he cursed me, nothing would ever go right in my life for disobeying him by refusing to marry Daniel, well if I had known what life had in store for me, I would have preferred to risk my father’s curse than throwing my life at the mercy of a man who had no iota of love nor respect for me. I got married to him when I was 24 and he revealed his true self after our wedding night on which he broke my virginity and treated me worse than a slave from that moment. He would hurl insults at my parents and my entire family and always remind me how he had picked me up from the gutters and how my family were nothing without him.
He called my father a stupid old gold digger and my mother, he tagged them an uneducated fool. If I tried to talk back at him, a punch immediately sealed my mouth so I was left to suffer in a loveless marriage which also came with domestic and verbal abuse. Yes, I was married but I wasn’t happy. Most girls eager for marriage didn’t know the pains that came with it when their desperation or the society’s persistence of “all your mates are married” pushes them into settling down with the wrong man. Most claim that they would rather cry inside a Hummer Jeep than in an auto-rickshaw but they have no idea that even money could never buy happiness or peace of mind.
I thought that was the worst of it until my husband woke me one night, a few months after our wedding and said: “Victoria.” He shook my arm vigorously since my back was turned to him.
“Uhmn?” I sleepily answered, wondering if he wanted to order me to go cook him something in the middle of the night as usual.
He partially lifted the duvet covering me in the partially dark room. “Are you naked under there?” He asked and began to grope my body with his hands.
I frowned but thankful that he couldn’t see my face. “No, I’m in my nightie.” I answered reluctantly.
“Are you wearing any panties?” He asked me and I gave a puzzled look.
“What is it?” I asked, trying very hard to hide my irritation from him to avoid a severe beating.
“Answer me my friend!” He barked.
“No, I’m not.” I managed an answer.
He partially sat up with his upper back propped against the pillows. “Good, I want you to grab the jar of petroleum jelly and bring it here.”
More confused, I sat up fully and turned to face him. “What do you need that for at this time of the night?”
He simply threw the duvet off his body to reveal his erection. Although my husband was sexually endowed but I wasn’t sexually attracted to him. Instead of turning me on, the sight of his erection makes me cringe.
“Are you planning on masturbating?” I carefully asked.
“No… I watched a p--n movie in my office today and I just dreamt of it and that was why I woke you.” He answered.
“But what have I got to do with the p--n movie? Do I in anyway share resemblance to the p--n star?”
“You wish? You are nothing like her.” He said coldly. “Your type should be selling tomatoes in the market because you lack the charisma or seductive body of a normal woman meant to pleasure a man.”
I was angry now. “Then let me go back to sleep.” I said and began to adjust to lie down again when he roughly pulled my arm.
“Are you mad?” He shot. “Did I permit you to sleep? You see me this way…” He gestured at his erection. “And all you want to do is ignore it and go back to sleep?! May thunder strike you dead there!” He cursed.
I swallowed hard. “But what am I supposed to do? I can’t simply sit up and listen to you compare me to a p--n star!”
“You are only useful for a few reasons. Go bring the jelly and coat it around your anus.”
My eyes widened now and all traces of lingering grogginess disappeared. “What! You want to have anal sex with me?!” I spat in disgust.
“And so?” He sounded apathetic. “What is wrong with that?!”
“Everything!” I spat. “How can you say that you want to have anal sex with me?!”
“Oh…” He gave me a disgruntled look. “So what are you trying to say then?”
“I’m not going to do it.” I stared and angrily averted my face.
“You are not going to do it?”
“No!” I vehemently answered.
“Do you realize that I’m your husband and your body is mine to do what I please with?”
“And it is against God’s wish too that I allow you sodomize my body! it’s only proper that a man penetrates his wife the right way.” I protested.
“The right way, uh? And where is it written in the Bible that I can’t go through the back if I choose to?”
“Me, I don’t know…” I grumbled. “All I know is there’s no way I’m letting you inside my anus.”
“So you are going to deny me my right?” He sounded more pissed now but his voice was still calm but harsh.
I mumbled some words under my breath and kept my face averted with my jaw and and chin placed in my hand, supported by my elbow which was on my thigh then I heard him say in a warning tone: “Victoria, do this thing now before things will get out of hand.”
“I have told you, I can’t and I won’t do it. You just can’t keep making me do everything you see in p--n movies, I’m your wife not some prostitute!” I said resolutely then angrily laid back on my side, turning my back to him, eager to go back to sleep and forget that my husband ever demanded such abominable act from me. I could hear him exhaling repeatedly in anger as he shook his right leg continuously which he often does whenever he was agitated. I tried to ignore him but I was also apprehensive. What if he decided to beat me up this night? What if he decided to grab the Vaseline and force himself into my sacred orifice, what then would I do?
In trepidation, I soon fell asleep and I forgot all about my worries until when I felt a warm torrent of liquid hit my face. I jolted up, gasping for breath and running my hands over my face but the warm torrent only shifted to aim at my face again. It didn’t smell like water at all and when I shielded my face with my arm, wondering where the liquid was coming from, and much to my shock, I realized that it was my husband, standing above me on the bed and urinating on my face.
To Be Continued…