18/09/2025
I BROUGHT A S*X DOLL FOR MY WIFE BECAUSE I TRAVEL A LOT NOW SHE SAID SHE’S PREGNANT FOR THE DOLL
EPISODE 4
For days after I saw Musa’s notebook, I couldn’t think straight. Every time I looked at Sandra’s growing belly, the words “our child must be safe” flashed in my mind like a curse, poisoning me with rage. I was almost certain the gateman was the father, yet something didn’t fit—Sandra never once mentioned Musa, never once slipped up in her act of devotion to the doll. If she was truly hiding an affair, why cling so stubbornly to the ridiculous story of being impregnated by plastic? That was when another thread of suspicion crept into my thoughts, one I had ignored for too long—Kenneth, my childhood friend, my so-called brother, the one man I trusted enough to visit Sandra when I was away. He lived just a few streets away and always offered to “check in on her” whenever business pulled me overseas. I used to thank him for being dependable, but now every visit, every message, every smile he gave Sandra in my presence began to replay in my memory with a bitter taste. I remembered one night months back when I returned early from a trip and found him in the living room with her. They both jumped when I walked in, and he claimed he had only come to drop off a package for me. Sandra laughed too quickly, her cheeks flushed. Back then I brushed it off, but now… now it burned like acid in my chest.
I tried to corner Sandra again. “Sandra, I need the truth. Is this Musa’s child? Or Kenneth’s?” The way she froze when I mentioned Kenneth’s name nearly broke me. She didn’t blink, didn’t breathe, only pressed her palm harder against her belly before whispering, “Don’t bring Kenneth into this. He has nothing to do with what’s growing inside me.” Her words sounded like denial, but her eyes—her eyes screamed guilt.
The next day, I followed Kenneth secretly. He left his office early, instead of going home, and drove straight to a pharmacy. I stayed far enough behind not to be noticed and watched as he came out with a brown paper bag, clutching it tightly like it was something shameful. He glanced around nervously before speeding off. My heart raced. What was Kenneth hiding? Why would he be buying drugs like a man with a secret to bury?
That night, when I tried to confront Sandra again, she locked herself in the bedroom with the doll and refused to come out. I heard her whispering through the door, giggling softly like a girl in love, but the doll never answered. My fists pounded the door until my knuckles bled, but she ignored me completely. Hours later, when she finally emerged, she looked radiant, almost glowing, her eyes glassy like someone possessed. She sat opposite me and said calmly, “You keep asking the wrong questions. It doesn’t matter if you think it’s Musa or Kenneth, because neither of them gave me this child. Stop tormenting yourself. Accept what is.”
But I couldn’t accept it.
Later that night, as the house slept, I went outside with a torchlight and crept near Musa’s small quarters. Through the cracked window, I saw him praying on his mat, whispering in low tones, tears rolling down his face. “Ya Allah, forgive me… protect my child…” My heart stopped. His words were clear—he believed the child was his. My body trembled with rage, and I nearly stormed in, but just as I turned, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a message from an unknown number: “She’s not telling you the truth. Meet me tomorrow night if you want to know who the real father is.”
I froze, my hand shaking as I read the message over and over.
The number… it belonged to Kenneth.
Now my mind is shattering. Could it be Musa? Could it be Kenneth? Or is Sandra truly mad and bound to this cursed doll in ways I cannot understand? Everywhere I turn, I see lies, betrayal, shadows creeping closer, and a child growing inside her that might destroy us all.🤔🤔🤔
