01/07/2025
MY MAN REFUSED TO TOUCH ME UNTIL I FOUND HER PICTURE UNDER HIS PILLOW
Episode 1
I knew something was wrong the night he turned his back on me… on our wedding night.
I was lying beside my husband, in the same bed, wearing the same s!lk nightwear I had carefully picked out for that special night. But Izuchukwu just lay there like a stranger. No smile. No k!ss. No t0uch. Just silence.
I asked him, “Are you okay?”
He said, “I’m just tired.”
That was the beginning.
I didn’t marry Izuchukwu because I was desperate. I married him because he made me believe I was safe with him. During our courtship, he was gentle. Respectful. Calm. The kind of man any woman would be proud to introduce to her parents. And when he said we should stay celibate till marriage, I thought I had hit a jackpot. A real man of discipline and morals.
But that wedding night was the first night I felt alone… in my own marriage.
I waited. I gave him space. I told myself maybe he was shy. Maybe he was nervous. Maybe it was stress.
But days turned into weeks. Weeks into months.
He never touched me.
Not once.
I cooked his favourite meals. I dressed up. I sprayed my body. I tried to start conversations. I laughed when nothing was funny. I even booked a weekend for us in a quiet resort, hoping that change of environment would spark something.
But Izuchukwu would just smile, pat my shoulder like a sister, and say, “Let’s rest.”
That became his favourite sentence—“Let’s rest.”
But I was tired of resting. I was tired of hugging my pillow at night. Tired of lying to my mother every time she asked, “Hope you’re enjoying your marriage?”
What was I supposed to say?
That my husband treats me like a chair in the house?
That I lie beside a man who doesn’t see me?
Even when I tried to touch him first, he would gently push my hand away, like I was disturbing his peace. No anger. No shouting. Just that cold, quiet rejection that hurts more than any slap.
I started blaming myself. Maybe I wasn’t attractive enough. Maybe I was doing something wrong. Maybe I smelled. Maybe I didn’t moan the right way in his dreams.
But nothing made sense.
Then it started getting worse.
I would wake up at night and find him outside, sitting alone in the living room, staring into nothing. Sometimes, I would hear him whispering things I didn’t understand. I stopped asking questions because he would always smile and say, “Everything is fine.”
But nothing was fine.
The distance between us was growing. I could feel it. I could smell it. I just didn’t know what it was… until that Thursday night.
It was raining heavily. NEPA had taken light. Izuchukwu was in the bathroom taking his shower. I was arranging the bed when I lifted his pillow and something fell to the floor.
It was a photograph.
I bent down, picked it up, and froze.
Not because of what I saw.
But because of who I saw.
And that was when my hands started shaking—
Because I had seen this woman before.
But not in real life.
Not in any picture frame.
Not on social media.
I had only ever seen her… in my dream.
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