How I Snatched My Husband From His Cheating Fiancé

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I took my husband from his cheating fiancé and I’m glad I did. This is a story of a cheating fiancé whose man I collected on a silver platter.

2011. Accra Sports Stadium. I saw him before he saw me. He was walking towards the row of bleachers I was perched on. The sight of him was captivating; he was of medium height, had broad shoulders. His chiseled abs, accentuated by a non-existent waist were visible from his t-shirt. I stared at him unashamed, he stared back and offered his megawatt smile. I smiled back, and rearranged my crop top to reveal what little cleavage I had. And that is when I saw her, and took an instant dislike to her. She looked like something from a erotic movie, she was drop dead gorgeous! He held out his hand to her, she took it and hung on to him. He looked at me one more time and smiled the megawatt smile again, but this time I felt he was mocking me, and saying, “I am taken, you heifer!”

Little did I know the erotica princess was about to make it my lucky day.

The match was between King Faisal and Accra Hearts of Oak. My ex had purchased the tickets, we were supposed to attend the game together, but he broke up with me days before the match. I had decided to attend the game nonetheless, if for nothing at all, to kill time and spite my ex.

The couple sat on the bench in front of me, which meant I was a step higher and could observe them. He was into the game, King Faisal was giving hearts of oak a run for their money in a desperate attempt to evade relegation. She was into her phone which she whipped out as soon as her butt touched the bench and began sending a series of texts. And I was into the annoyingly beautiful couple seated in front of me. He watched the game, she looked at her phone, and I watched them.

From my vantage point, I could see her phone’s screen. First she chit-chatted with a couple of her girlfriends about girly stuff. But a strange text came through from Yaw Plumber Boy. It said, “He’s in town so I’m forgotten.”

I thought that was a really strange text from a plumber boy, so I began to pay real keen attention.

She replied, “I have to play the good fiance, hehe.”

On and on they went, flirting and mocking my beautiful husband who didn’t know I was his wife yet. It wasn’t hard to conclude that Yaw Plumber boy was not plumbing pipes and faucets, he was plumbing Princess Erotica’s erotics. And Princess was not just a good old fiance, she was a cheating finance.

“My poor baby,” I thought, there he sat engrossed in the game, cheering on his team, oblivious to the betrayal brewing in his backyard.

I wasted no time borrowing a pen and paper from a fellow spectator, and I scribbled on one side, “Check her phone for messages from Yaw Plumber Boy.”

And on the other side of the piece of paper, I wrote my phone number.

When the game was over, I folded the paper and quickly handed it to him when she was not looking. He looked into my eyes, smiled and shook his head, as if to say, “I cannot believe your audacity.”

“Read it,” was all I said.

The next day he called me, he was distraught and angry. Plumber boy was his close friend. He could not believe his fiance had been cheating on him with his friend. I could believe it, I wasn’t sorry, not even for him. All I thought was, “Come to Mama baby boy.”

Over the next couple of weeks we became good friends. He was not only heartbroken but embarrassed at how much of a fool he’d been taken for. And he was convinced his entire social circle was laughing at him, and that they’d known all along. I listened to him vent, and watched this man’s big heart break and watched him shake with sobs. His finance’s cheating did a number on him, he needed all the support and comfort he could get, I stayed by his side and loved him through his pain.

He broke it off with Princess Erotica, the cheating fiance, weeks before their scheduled marriage ceremony. To her credit, she did try to mend things. She begged and cajoled, but his family were set on him not marrying her or even maintaining a friendship with her.

One day his mother pulled me to the side and said, “Get pregnant for him.”

I smiled and replied, “In due time.”

I loved him, I wanted him to love me back. I had no intention of trapping a man whose heart had turned bitter from betrayal. So I played it cool, stayed and played the position of a faithful friend, and waited for him to see me with his heart.

One night we were in my living room, him sprawled on the carpet watching football and me sitting on the couch editing his poorly written essay on the Cypriot recession. Then out of the blue he rolled over to me and began massaging my foot. I looked down at him and smiled, and he blessed me with the megawatt smile. Then we locked eyes, and my heart knew he was ready. We had been friends for months by then, and had shared many beautiful moments, but that moment was different; the way he looked at me was different, it was intense and his eyes gave him away.

“I think this is what support and love feels like, can we stop being friends?” He asked.

“Stop being friends?” I cocked my head to the side and asked.

“Yes, and be this instead…” He held my face in his hands and gave me the kiss of all kisses.

When I asked when he decided, he said, “I knew from the very day you smiled at me from the bleachers in the stadium, I just wasn’t prepared for the magnificence of you.”

April 2015. I said I do. And I meant it. And so did he.

I have never been happier or more content with anyone as I am with my husband. Three children later, we still behave like lovestruck teenagers, and I love it!

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