Ajebo Writer

Got involved in something I never imagined would happen at a massage parlour owned by my wife’s younger sister. Never told anyone until now.

I’d been dealing with back pain from sitting for long hours at work, and after months of convincing me, my wife finally got me to try her sister’s massage services.

I started going to her beauty parlour once a week. After a few weeks, we’d become quite familiar, especially because she always attended to me herself despite having other workers.

We talked during the sessions, mostly about work, family, and ordinary things and gradually became more comfortable around each other.

That evening, I finished work late because of a meeting. By the time I arrived, everyone else had left, and only she remained. She had stayed behind to wait for me.

Not wanting to keep her waiting any longer, I quickly undressed, wrapped a towel around myself, and lay down on the massage table.

She started with my shoulders and upper back, working slowly down to my lower back before moving to my thighs. There was more oil than usual, leaving her hands warm and impossibly smooth against my skin.

Her hands moved slowly, pressing gently, then lighter, making me notice every touch. I could smell the oil and hear her soft breathing close to me.

When her hands moved a little lower, I took a deep breath. A soft moan slipped out.

She stopped immediately and looked at me.

“Want me to continue?”

I swallowed. “Yes.”

Her fingers slipped briefly under the towel, and my whole body went still. Her other hand kept moving over my back, warm and slow. I could feel the oil on my skin, the heat of her hand, and the soft sound of her breathing.

She told me to turn over. I obeyed. Her hands kept moving slowly over my chest, stomach and dangerously close to my groin region. The room was quiet except for our breathing and the faint sound of the sheets beneath me.

For a moment, we just looked at each other, both of us feeling the tension in the quiet room.

Then out of nowhere, she very gently knelt down, held my preeq and my gaze and put all my inches in her mouth slowly. I almost came from the shock and pleasure.

In that moment I didn’t care that she was my sister in law. I knew exactly who she was, and I knew the line we were crossing. But, I pushed the thought away, closed my eyes and surrendered to the sensation of being harder inside her wet mouth.

In 6 years of marriage, my wife had never put my preeq in her mouth. I had never been bothered about it until now.

After a long time, very gently again she removed my preeq from her mouth, raised her skirt up and climbed ontop me.

She rode me right there on the table—slow at first, then with a steady intensity that made it impossible to think about anything beyond what was happening.

She kept looking into my eyes as though she was trying to convince herself to stop. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she repeated that she shouldn’t be doing this.

But neither of us stopped.

I let myself surrender to the moment, my hands found her hips and I pulled her closer inside me. She put one hand on my chest, and the other on my thighs and kept grinding me harder while I pressed up against her, matching her rhythm.

For a moment, there was nothing but the tension between us, and the unmistakable knowledge that we were crossing a line neither of us could pretend not to see.

I lifted her up and turned her over. Now, I was ontop her. I looked down and she was looking up at me. For a second, my wife’s face flashed in my mind due to the resemblance, and guilt washed all over me again.

“D-Don’t stop.” She suddenly stammered, as if she read my mind. I felt her hands on my back, her soft and tender fingers digging into my shoulder blades when I pressed inside further. She wrapped her legs around me and pulled me deeper, whatever restraint I had left disappeared.

She shivered as I began with slow thrusts, trying my best to ease her into it. “Feck.” I murmured. She moaned my name and the sound of it was better than my wife’s voice.

I raised myself up to look down at her then I slowly pushed into her again, not leaving any bit of my length out of her. “O-oh, god.” She cried softly, spreading her legs as far as she could keep them.

I slammed into her, tightening my hands around her thighs as they immediately vibrated. “Ah,” she cried out again. You’re so goooood.” She whispered softly.

My thrusts were slow and hard, and it made our body clap each time I entered her.

“I-I’m so close. I’m cumming.” She gasped. I paused and lifted her legs to my shoulders, then plunged deeply inside her. I kissed her passionately, enjoying the look on her face as I moved slowly, in and out of her.

I f**ked her until she came very loudly, and then I finally let go and after several intense thrusts, I emptied my load inside her

We both fell back onto the table, laid side by side staring at each other, exhausted and satisfied.

She cleaned herself up and told me she’d wait outside when I was ready. I cleaned up, got dressed, and joined her out front.

After she locked up the shop, I drove her back to my house, where she had been staying with my wife and me. Neither of us said a word about what had happened.

When we finally arrived, we got out of the car and walked inside, where my wife was waiting for us. She hugged and kissed me then immediately pulled her younger sister into a warm embrace, completely unaware of what had happened between us.

F0rbidden f**k

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️AjeboWriter Kingdavid

I started noticing that my best friend was getting very close to me. Not the kind of close we had always been. Something had changed.

Sometimes, when we were sitting together, she would move closer and rest her head on my shoulder. When we were walking, she would hold my hand.

And when she hugged me, she sometimes stayed in my arms for a few extra seconds before pulling away and continuing whatever conversation we were having like nothing had happened.

At first, I didn’t think much of it. She was my friend. My best friend, and I had never looked at her that way.

But after a while, I started wondering. Maybe she liked me. And once that thought entered my head, I started seeing everything differently.

I started noticing the little things like the way we could talk for hours without getting bored. The random late-night chats. the constant teasing and inside jokes we shared.

Suddenly, everything started making sense.

One evening, she came to my place. The moment I opened the door, she smiled and wrapped her arms around me.

She hugged me tightly. And as she pulled away, I leaned forward and kissed her. It lasted barely a second.

She immediately pushed me away.

I was shocked by the look on her face. She looked genuinely shocked. Her shock shocked me.

“Why did you kiss me?”

I stared at her. “Because…” I paused. “I thought you wanted me to.”

She frowned. “Why would you think that?”

I honestly couldn’t believe she was asking me that.

“But you hold my hand. You hug me. You rest your head on my shoulder. Sometimes you sit so close to me…”

She looked at me for a few seconds.

“And so?”

I said nothing.

“So you kiss every girl who holds your hand, hugs you or sits close to you?”

That caught me off guard.

“But you’re not every girl,” I said. “I thought… I thought there was something between us.”

She sighed and sat down. I sat next to her. Not too close and not too far. Then she looked at me, held my hands and spoke;

“Look, Kings. Sometimes when I come close to you, hug you or hold your hand, I don’t want anything from you. Sometimes I just want the physical comfort.”

I gave a small, awkward laugh. “Just physical comfort?”

“Yes.” She looked at me.

“Sometimes women just want closeness. We want to be held. We want a hug. We want to sit beside someone we trust and feel safe for a while.”

I didn’t say anything

She looked at me and continued. “That doesn’t automatically mean we’re looking for something intimate.”

“But what about me?” I asked. “Have you ever thought about how that kind of closeness can make a man feel? You get close to me like that, and naturally, I might think you want more.”

She shrugged slightly.

“It’s not always about you, Kings. Sometimes I just want to be close to someone I trust without feeling like that closeness has to lead somewhere.”

That was when I realized I had been confusing two completely different things.

Closeness and intimacy.

I had assumed that because she was comfortable being physically close to me, she must also want something more.

I was wrong.

A woman could want your arms without wanting your lips. She could hold your hand without wanting a relationship. She could rest her head on your shoulder without asking for anything beyond comfort.

And most importantly, she could trust you enough to get close without that closeness becoming an invitation for something else.

After that conversation, I changed.
If she hugged me, I didn’t assume there was a kiss coming. If she held my hand while we walked, I simply held hers. If she rested her head on my shoulder, I let her.

And if she wanted to lie against my chest, I adjusted myself so she could be comfortable.

I stopped trying to turn every moment of affection into something more. And slowly, something beautiful happened.

She became even more comfortable around me.

One evening, we were sitting in my living room watching a movie, just like we had done countless times before.

She came over and sat beside me.

Without thinking, I put my arm around her.

Neither of us said anything for a while. Then she suddenly looked at me.

“Kings, are you gay?”

I almost choked.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Because every other guy would have gotten the hint by now. But you? You’re colour-blind. You can’t read the room, and you definitely can’t see the green light I’ve been flashing at you for months.”

I stared at her, completely confused.

“But I thought you said—”

I stopped and gathered my thoughts.

“But I tried to take things forward before, and you shut me down.”

“It was a test, silly.”

“A test?”

“Yes. I wanted to know if you were actually serious about me. I wanted to see if you would fight for me instead of giving up so easily.”

She sat up and gave me a playful frown.

For a moment, I didn’t know what to believe.

Then I smiled, moved closer and tried to kiss her, and she immediately turned her face away.

I laughed.

“Seriously?”

I leaned in again for a second attempt, but she pushed me back and then stood up.

I stood up too and reached for her face again, but this time she pulled away sharply and slapped my hand away.

“What is going on?” I asked, genuinely confused.

Her expression changed.

“I told you I don’t want that with you. I just want us to be friends. Why can’t you respect me and our friendship?” She was now almost tearing up

I moved toward her, grabbed her hands and pushed her toward the door.

“Get out.”

She stared at me in disbelief.

I opened the door, pushed her outside and locked it behind her.

Mad d0g.

The End

—Ajebo Writer

©️AjeboWriter Kingdavid

My wife’s past is her past not mine but now it feels like it is.

I met my wife at the hospital.

At the time, I never imagined she would one day become my wife. I was there taking care of my mother, who was critically ill and had been admitted.

My wife was always there too, taking care of a relative—or at least, that was what I assumed.

We started seeing each other frequently in the waiting room, sometimes in the mornings and sometimes late at night when neither of us could sleep. Occasionally, we’d sit outside and watch a movie on the tv.

At first, we never really spoke. Just the occasional smile, nod, or wave.

As time went by, we started talking, and that was when I found out that it was her fiancé who was sick.

About a month later, my mother passed away. I stopped going to the hospital and never saw her again.

Until six months later.

I walked into a bank, and there she was—the cashier attending to me. She asked about my mother, and I told her she had passed away. She expressed her condolences.

I then asked about her fiancé. She told me he had also passed away, shortly after my mother did.

We exchanged contacts, and that was how our love story began. Slow and steady.

From our very first date, she told me that she was only beginning to heal from her loss and needed time to fully recover. I told her I completely understood.

As we became closer, she explained that her late fiancé had been a significant part of her life. She told me he had played an important role in her journey and that, no matter what happened, he would always remain an important part of her life.

I agreed and I understood. My mother was also irreplaceable in my heart. No woman could ever replace the love I have for her. We understood each other.

After I proposed, she continued wearing the engagement ring her late fiancé had given her. I let it go.

She would also remember him on his birthday, sometimes making humorous posts, and she celebrated their anniversary. I never had a problem with any of it because I respected the history they shared.

Three years into our marriage, she became pregnant. A few months later, we found out we were having a boy. Naturally, we started discussing names.

I suggested my first name, she said it’s too common. I brought up other modern and rare names but she rejected all of them with the excuse that when she sees the right name, she’d know.

A few days ago, she woke me up in the middle of the night and told me she had dreamed about the name. Excitedly, I sat up and asked her to tell me.

She said: “Emmanuel.” Her late fiancé’s name.

I immediately rejected it. I said never. She started crying. She accused me of being selfish and insensitive to the pain his loss caused her and said she just wants to honor his memory.

I stood my ground and said it will never happen.

I will never call my son by my wife’s late fiancé’s name. That’s disrespectful to me and even to the memory of the man.

I understand and respect the history you shared with him but my son is my son. He is not a continuation of the relationship with your late fiancé. He is our child.

She stopped talking to me, left our bedroom and started sleeping in the guest room. She cried every day and kept trying to convince me.

I refused every time. For weeks, we continued arguing about it. Then, about a month later, I came home from work and found her mother in the house.

After exchanging pleasantries, I went inside, showered, ate, and later joined them in the sitting room.

Her mother began pleading with me. She said that, because of my wife’s condition and everything she had been through, I should at least consider using the name as a middle name if I wouldn’t agree to use it as the first name.

According to her, he was the one who renovated their house, put my wife through school, sponsored her brother’s education, and even bought their father a car.

I told the mom that did not concern me. I won’t consider middle, last or even nickname. The mom got upset and said but I knew what I signed up for when I married her.

I said, No, I did not sign up to mourn her dead fiancé for the rest of my life and then I asked both of them how they’d feel if I asked to name our daughter after one of my ex-girlfriends?

My wife said it’s not the same and I’m being unreasonable.

I’ve told the mom not to bring it up again or else I’ll involve my family and that all these things they’re doing is because my mom is late because if my mom was alive they wouldn’t dare suggest this thing.

That’s how her mother started begging me and then turned to her daughter, telling her to apologize to me.

She did. Later that night, my wife returned to our bedroom. The following morning, her mother left.

For now, there is peace in our home. And honestly, I hope my wife never brings this issue up again. Because there is one thing I am completely certain about: I will never name my son after her late fiancé. Never!

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️AjeboWriter Kingdavid

Whether we like it or not, we have a cat-fishing problem in Nigeria masquerading AI!

Nobody looks real again. Everyone suddenly looks like a movie star or an international model. Even my barber. If you see his DP… omo. You go call am bros meanwhile na inside shop he dey sleep

That’s how I met this very beautiful Queen on Snapchat. The connection was instantaneous. Usually beautiful girls like to form shakara but she was so easy to talk to

That would have been the first red flag but men, we’re moved by what we see and that’s how everyday she kept sending me different perfect pictures of herself.

Omo… I showed all my friends, even changed my WhatsApp DP to her picture. That’s how beautiful she was and she too changed her own DP to my picture

That one burst my head. I went to meet my
Family and told them I have found a wife.

"I can't wait to see you in Benin," she’d say.

"I can't wait to see you too my All in one." a finished man would reply.

By now we had already planned our marriage, and even how we will have joint accounts, live in Lagos island, and have two children. A boy that looks like me and a girl that looks like her.

One fine Friday morning, I took first bus and travelled to Benin from Lagos to meet my last busstop, my missing rib, my plus one!

We had made plans to go to the famous Benin flyover, eat and take pictures and do small picnic ontop the bridge like everybody else

I borrowed enough money from all the loan apps I had downloaded, and got over 150k in my account I wanted to use to spoil my future wife

As soon as the bus reached the park in Benin, I started looking around for my Princess because she said she’ll be waiting for me with open arms

I even had a fight with two single jealous ladies who complained in the bus that my calls were disturbing them & they wanted to sleep. I told them I’m not responsible for their lonely, sad & mizerable single lives

I was desperately searching for her in the park when one very black, short and strong wrestler looking unfine creature screamed my name like siren

I was shocked. Everyone at the park turned around. Next thing this very-dark-thing started running at insane speed towards me.

"Baby, finally, it’s me, Princess." She kept jumping and shouting like frog

“God forbid bad thing ma!” I shouted in fear too and did the sign of the cross

“Ma ke? I’m 21 ejoor. It’s me, your All in One, your last busstop . Don’t you recognize me?” She turned around like that’ll make a f**king difference!

The two women I fought with in the bus burst out laughing. Others brought out their phones and started recording the spectacle

Shame covered me like a shield.

Next thing this thing grabbed both my bags from my hand with one of her large hands and carried me with the other hand like I weighed nothing… as short as she is!

After she released me from her primal grip, I fearfully and shamefully asked, "Are you really Princess?"

She said yes, without shame or even fear. She said it with so much boldness I was confused. I looked at my phone again, studied my screensaver, “but ma, this isn’t you?”

She laughed, “ca ca ca ca,” like a witch.
Then she said it’s because she didn’t make up that’s why. That if she makes up, she’ll look like Angelina Jolie and her shape too, like Kim.”

“Which Kim…. Kardashan?” I asked in shock

She said yes nau or should she do 360 for me. Then she said her children snapped the pictures and used ai to put make up for her, then said they’re at the flyover waiting for us

“Children? Not even one?”

She laughed again and I winced from pain. She said yes with confidence. That she has two, a boy and a girl but she can’t wait to have mine. That she always wanted four. Two boys, two girls.

“But you’re 21? How do you already have 2 children?

She said she’s an Edo girl nah. “Which Edo babe no get shildren at 21? That no be real
Edo babe nah.”

She was looking at me like I’m the weird one

Quickly I looked around, one of the girls I fought with in the bus now said, “True true men are d0gz because na only dog fit chop this kind sh*t.”

Princess switched immediately, “Who you Dey call dog? Your mama, d0g, your papa, d0g!”

I tried to hold her, next thing she pushed me and I fell flat on the ground.

She didn’t even notice, she was still vibrating, veins were just all over her shoulders because she didn’t have neck. Just muscled shoulders that connected directly to her head

As she was insulting the ladies, some agberos came and tried to calm her down, one touched her and she jumped and head bvtted him and broke his nose

Fight started. This very strong-dark-thing, single handedly beat up 2 tall rough looking agberos. She was punching, kicking and lifting them up like they were children.

Quickly I carried my bags and just ran. I just ran and kept running. After a long time, I looked back and she was running and chasing me

I slapped myself to wake up from this nightmare but sometimes even God doesn’t answer those kind of prayers. He is also curious to see how it plays out.

“Baby, stop nau, why are you running? Don’t run, don’t run!“ She kept gaining speed

I was able to jump on a bike and escaped her. I got to the next park and entered one sienna coming to Lagos. Few minutes later Princess showed up at the park. All the hairs in my body stood

She started going from bus to bus, looking inside while dialing my number. Quickly I turned off my phone and jumped out and started running again with my bags…. She saw me and started chasing me again, screaming my name!

I was running and shouting till I entered another okada and begged the baba to take me to where I’ll see bus going to Lagos on the road side not park.

I was looking at the rear mirror and she was gaining on us. Omo, this woman can run. The okada man asked, oga no vex o, na mad man be that?”

I said, “Yes sir, na very mad man. Abeg increase your speed. I’ll pay you double!”

He increased his speed and drove very far then stopped me at the side of the road. The first bus I saw shouting Lagos, the price was so cheap I felt they were kidnappers.

But I didn’t care. I jumped in. It was better I was kidnapped than caught by that creature.

Thank God they were not kidnappers and I got home very late at night. I finally turned on my phone, and her msgs kept coming in.

“I can’t believe you did this to me. What about our flyover date? Please I’m here alone waiting for you at the new flyover. Don’t break my heart my Prince Charming.”
“Let me know if you want it more romantic, playful, or dramatic.”

This thing used ChatGPT to message me and didn’t even edit it well. Chai, I don suffer.

Immediately I blocked her.

The devil is a liar

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️AjeboWriter Kingdavid

There’s this guy in my compound. He’s very nice and respectful. He doesn’t talk much and is always helpful and available to me.

Although he’s shy outside but when we’re together, he’s very free with me.

Our friendship is so private, nobody in the compound and neighborhood knows we’re friends and that’s exactly how I want and like it.

He sends me money anytime I ask for it. He subscribes for me, orders shawarma for me, pays for things online and I’m even connected to his Netflix

One Christmas, both of us were the only ones in the compound that didn’t travel. The compound was now very boring, so one night I went to his place and we watched Netflix. He ordered pizza, icecream and we enjoyed ourselves

I finally allowed him sleep with me after he has been begging for over a year, and I was surprised at the size of this guy. I really had a good time, he made me cm multiple times. That’s how we started sleeping with each other

Although when everyone returned we kept it hidden, and secretive. Nobody knew what was going on.

Until I found out I was pregnant. Immediately I tried to get rid of it. I took everything, baby refused to go out. I tried everything, nothing worked.

Out of desperation, I finally told him on the third month. He was very exited. He begged and promised me heaven and earth to keep the baby and said he’ll marry me

He’s 46 and I’m just 23… I’m not ready for marriage but that’s not the problem.

The problem is he’s a dwarf

Like aki and pawapw size of small

I’ve been depressed since I found out about the pregnancy. There’s nothing I haven’t tried to get rid of it k but it’s not working and soon I’ll be showing. I don’t want to go to a hospital because I dreamt I didn’t make it.

He’s ready to marry me tomorrow. He’s a good man, he’ll respect me and treat me well. I have no doubt but I cannot help but think about what my family and people will say

Most importantly, what if the child is also a small person?

I don’t even know what to do or what to think about most times. What will my friends say?

God I want to just unalive myself.

Help me please.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️AjeboWriter Kingdavid

My wife’s best friend, Nita, has been a regular visitor in our home for years.

They have known each other since childhood, and even after my wife and I got married about five years ago, their friendship never changed. If anything, it became stronger.

Things became even closer when Nita started dating a man who lived in the same city as us. She began visiting more often, sometimes spending entire afternoons with my wife, talking, laughing and catching up on everything happening in their lives.

But about a year ago, my wife started noticing something that bothered her. Almost every time Nita came around, there seemed to be something wrong.

A bruise on her arm. A mark around her ribs. Once, she had what looked like a black eye.

My wife would ask questions immediately because that is just who she is. She doesn’t know how to pretend not to notice something.

Nita always had an explanation. She had fallen. She had hurt herself at work. She had bumped into something.

My wife didn’t always believe her, but she never had enough information to prove otherwise.

Then one afternoon, Nita came to our house wearing a scarf despite the weather being unusually hot.

My wife noticed the bruises around her neck. That was the moment everything changed. She confronted her.

Nita tried to brush it off at first, but my wife wouldn’t let it go. She kept asking questions until Nita finally broke down.

She was being abused. The man she had been dating had become extremely controlling and violent.

Things had gotten worse after Nita lost her job and became financially dependent on him. He started controlling where she went, who she spoke to and even who she communicated with.

He constantly accused her of cheating and sleeping with other men for money. At one point, he accused her of having an affair with her boss and claimed that’s how she lost her job because the bosses wife found out and made them sack her.

Then things became even worse. He started monitoring her WhatsApp messages and eventually tried to clone her account. When she refused to give him access, he became violent and strangled her until she passed out.

That was the moment my wife completely lost it. She was angry that Nita had hidden everything from her for so long. She kept asking why she hadn’t called her, why she had been suffering alone and why she had continued going back to the same man.

Then my wife turned to me. “Please,” she said. “Let her stay here.”

I didn’t need much convincing. I said she could stay with us for as long as she needed.

And that’s how she moved in. My wife treated her like family. She made sure Nita ate properly, had somewhere safe to sleep and, most importantly, felt that she wasn’t alone anymore.

Nita also became incredibly helpful around the house. She helped with cooking and cleaning, assisted with laundry and sometimes helped take care of our daughter.

For the first time in a long while, she seemed to be getting her life back. Then something happened that I never expected.

Last week, my wife and I went to work as usual and dropped our daughter at daycare. I wasn’t feeling particularly strong that morning, so I decided to close early and head home.

When I got home, I didn’t announce myself. I went straight into the kitchen, made myself lunchthen went into my bedroom, got into bed & put Netflix on.

Nita was in her room. We barely interacted when my wife wasn’t around, so I didn’t bother going to look for her.

A few minutes later, I heard her bedroom door open. I heard footsteps moving through the house. Then my bedroom door suddenly opened. And Nita walked in. Completely naked.

For a few seconds, neither of us said anything. I was so shocked that I literally froze. I just stared at her with my mouth open until my brain finally caught up with what was happening.

“I’m sorry!” I blurted out

She immediately covered herself and started apologizing too.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were home.”

She explained that she hadn’t heard me come in and only wanted to borrow some of my wife’s clothes because she hadn’t washed hers yet.

I immediately looked away.

“It’s okay,” I told her.

She apologized again and then left.

I turned and Nita was still there. This time around her full backside was right in my face while she tried to find something to wear. I had assumed the sound I heard was the bedroom door opening. It wasn’t. It was the wardrobe.

I kept looking away because I didn’t want to make the situation any more uncomfortable than it already was.

She quickly picked out one of my wife’s gowns. Then she turned around. We made eye contact again and she apologized and immediately ran out of the room.

The whole thing probably lasted only a few minutes, but it felt much longer.

About an hour later, there was another knock on my bedroom door. It was Nita.

This time, she was fully dressed in my wife’s gown. She looked extremely embarrassed.

“I’m really sorry about what happened,” she said. “I didn’t know anyone would be home.”

I told her it was fine. “I should have told you I was back early. You had no idea I was here.”

She nodded, but she still looked uncomfortable. Then she asked me for one more favor. “Please don’t tell your wife.”

She said she was already embarrassed enough and didn’t want my wife to misunderstand what had happened or think there was anything behind it.

I told her not to worry about it. “Let’s just forget it happened.”

She thanked me and left.

I eventually left the house myself and spent some time with friends until my wife came home.

That was a week ago. And I haven’t told my wife. Nothing happened between Nita and me. Nothing was intended. It was an awkward accident, and that’s all it was.

But somehow, I still feel guilty because I haven’t told my wife. Technically, I’m lying by omission, and the more I think about it, the more complicated it becomes.

If I tell my wife, I’m afraid she might misunderstand everything. She can be very emotional and very direct when she feels someone has crossed a line, and I don’t want her to blame Nita and feel uncomfortable having her in our home.

And more than anything, I don’t want Nita to lose the one safe place she currently has because of an accident that meant absolutely nothing.

But there’s another side of this.

What if Nita tells my wife first? What if she decides she can’t keep it to herself anymore? Then it could look completely different coming from her.

My wife might wonder why I never mentioned it. She might think I deliberately hid it. And honestly, that is what scares me the most.

I keep going back and forth. If I tell my wife, I could create a problem where there wasn’t one and If I don’t tell her, and she eventually finds out from Nita, I might look like I was hiding something much worse.

So I’m stuck.

Should I tell my wife what happened, or should I leave it alone since it was clearly an accident?

And if Nita tells her before I do, how do I explain why I kept quiet?

I honestly don’t know what the right thing to do is.

The End

Ajebo Writer

©️ AjeboWriter Kingdavid