He proposed to me

He proposed to me, and I said no. That was years ago. About six years ago. I had a boyfriend. Our relationship was sketchy. A lot of things were going wrong in my relationship then, but I didn't see it as an opportunity to cheat, so I kept saying no to Felix. I told him I had a boyfriend. He told me he was in for something serious. Because he was good to me, I didn’t want to lose him. I kept him as a friend until he told me he couldn’t be a friend because he was hurting. He stopped calling and texting. Even when I did, I got crickets, so I also stopped trying. Then he traveled out of town, and we later lost touch. So for six years, I didn’t hear anything from him or see him with my own eyes. Eventually, that relationship I was holding on to collapsed, as expected. I went into another relationship, and it also didn’t do well. It lasted for two years, and then it was gone. I prayed for something serious each time I went on my knees. Men came with a lot of promises, but they didn’t look like keepers or men who wanted something that would last, so I said no to them. One evening, I bumped into Felix. He looked like a man who had life at his feet. I jumped into his arms, and we hugged. We talked for a few minutes, and I asked what he was doing in town. Because he was with other people and needed to attend to them, he took my number and said he was going to call. He did. That same night. We talked for over an hour. We were ready to make up for the six lost years in just an hour. And then we talked about the series of rejections he got from me. He said, "Eiii, you really stressed my heart ooo. We would have been married by now if you had said yes." I explained why I couldn’t say yes and added, "It was a mistake. I should have, but God knows what He does, and only He understands." He was in town for a week, so we met again. He said he still loved me and that his heart hadn’t changed over the years. I asked him, "So you mean you didn’t find any woman where you were in the past years?"* He confessed he met women, dated a few, and dreamt of a lot. "But none was you," he concluded. So one thing led to another, as it always does. He came to my place and spent the night so that the next morning, he could travel back to where he came from. I gave it all without reservation. He took everything in as if he’d been empty for years and was waiting for that moment. I was already awake when his alarm went off. I looked at his phone’s screen, and there was a picture of him posed with his left hand supporting his cheek. I looked at the photo while the alarm rang. His finger. There was a ring on it. Before I could reach out for the phone, he woke up. "Are you married?" I asked. "Me? Married? What are you talking about?" he responded. "Let me see your lock screen again," I requested. Maybe the truth dawned on him that I might have seen it from the photo. He tried keeping the phone from me, but I’d already seen it, so I didn’t fight for it. I said, "Your water is ready. You can go and bathe now." He went in with his phone. While I was alone, I cried. It wasn’t his fault. He was just being a man who cheats. A man who saw an empty hole and decided to make it a home, just like snakes do. I should have taken my time. It looked like I didn’t learn anything from all the heartbreaks I went through. He was somebody’s husband—something I’d vowed never to do. I’d judged women who dated married men. I’d said bad stuff about them. I’d become that woman. Unknowingly. I didn’t say anything when he came out from the bath after what looked like hours. He said, "I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I thought of telling you all the time we were talking, but..." As I said, he was just being a man who cheats. Those men have excuses. They know how to play the victim when they’re caught. They have the same lines for the women they cheat on. I didn’t want to hear the excuses. I told him to hurry and leave before morning came. He left money on the table. It felt like he was paying a prostitute for a night’s job. I picked it up and pushed it into his pocket. I opened the door and led him out. He said, "Oh, have patience erh..." I shut the door behind him so I could be left alone with my disgraced self. I didn’t cry again. I dressed up and went to work so I could write this story and share it. I told my best friend about it, and she said, "Men and miracles."