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Nelly’s Diary, Port Harcourt (2026)

15/06/2026

The End👇

He not only hid his fertility issues from me for eleven years after we got married, but his mother also made it seem like our childlessness was my fault. On top of that, he had an affair with his boss. He gave her what she wanted and hid it from me.

Now, he was standing before me, telling me that the guilt of sleeping with his boss was what made him stop touching me.
And now that I was pregnant by a stranger who wanted nothing to do with me, he wanted me back. He wanted us to raise the child as his own.

He was begging.
"You have to go," I said, wiping away the tears that thrëatened to make me look weak in front of him.

He asked me to think about it and eventually left.

The moment he was gone, I broke down. The tears flowed freely as I held my stomach. I was confused and hürt, and I found it difficult to forgive him.

I lost my appetite that night and eventually fell asleep.

The next morning, I resumed work, and life continued.

For days, which turned into weeks my new boss was always flïrting around me, trying to get me in the mood again even when he became bossy.

I tried to avoid him but it was difficult and awkward especially given the fact that I see him everyday. He gave me instructions at work and never missed an opportunity to add, "Remember what I said. If you still want me to pleasure you like I did that day, my office is readily available."

I had never met a man so shameless. Angër surged through me. Such shāmeless man can never be the father to my child. I will never let him anywhere close to my child.

I slammed my hand on the table, pulled off my name tag, and dropped it in front of him. "I quit."

"What?" He frowned.

"If you think I'm working in this company just to be your toy, keep dreaming."

"You're making a mistake!" He said behind me.

I stormed out and never looked back.

He denied the pregnancy, yet he wanted another moment with me. If I stayed, something else might happen, and I didn't want that anymore.

As I returned to my apartment, I remembered the countless flowers, the countless letters, the missed calls, the visits and repeated please from my husband who never missed a chance to say "I am sorry."

It was a difficult decision, but I chose to visit my husband two days after I quit my job. I wanted to know if he was truly repentant.

That evening, I returned to the house and found empty bottles of alcøhol scattered across the floor. He was lying in the middle of them, completely drùnk and påssed out.

Tears gathered in my eyes. Pity tugged at my heart as I gently tried to wake him.

He groaned and slowly opened his eyes, still dazed. When he finally became fully aware of who was standing before him, his mouth fell open in disbelief.

Before I knew it, he wrapped me in a tight embrace and cried on my shoulder. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed. "Thank you for coming back."

I smiled faintly. "It's all in the past now."

I placed a hand on my stomach. "We will give this child a good life. If she grows up and wants siblings, we can adopt. I'm not leaving you anymore."

His eyes filled with tears again. He promised that he would never hürt me again. I chëated, yes. I slept with a stranger, and I'm not proud of it, even if it happened while I was drunk and emotionally brøken.

But perhaps this was the wake-up call both of us needed to realize how much we truly cared about each other.

Life didn't end because of his lies. We moved forward. We healed. And we grew stronger.

Even after I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, no one ever discovered the truth. No one found out that I had slept with a stranger.

That's what marriage means to us: For better, for worse.

But if there's one lesson I learned from everything that happened, it is this: Never lie to your partner. Never keep dëstructive sëcrets from the person you claim to love.

Any sëcret that can dëstroy a relationship should be revealed before it grows into something bigger.

Not everyone can forgive a bëtrayal like the one my husband committed.

But for the sake of love, peace, and the future we wanted to build together, I chose forgiveness.

And as I watched him playing with our daughter everyday, I realized that he had spent everyday proving he has changed.

I was happy I gave my daughter a man to call her father.

Though the trust was not very much strong like before, I believed that one can repent completely of his sins and my husband wasn't an exception.

Thank you for reading.

14/06/2026

Part 5👇

Even if he wasn't interested in the pregnancy, why did he have to be so hårsh?
As I stormed out of the building, anger flared in my chest.

He had treated me like a child, like some sort of nuisance he couldn't wait to get rid of. He hadn't even allowed me to explain myself. The moment I mentioned the pregnancy, he denied knowing me and practically threw me out of his office.

The humiliation burned deep inside me.
I wandered aimlessly until I found a small restaurant nearby. The place was nearly empty. I ordered a drink and sat in a corner, trying to calm the storm raging inside my head.

Every time I replayed the conversation, my anger grew stronger.
How could someone be so cold?
I wasn't asking him to marry me. I wasn't demanding money.

All I wanted was for him to acknowledge what had happened.
Hours passed.
By the time I looked at the clock, it was almost 6:30 p.m.

A thought suddenly crossed my mind.
No, I wasn't going home yet.
I got up, paid my bill, and walked toward the company building. I stood outside and waited.
When he finally drove out of the parking lot, his expensive black car rolled slowly toward the gate.

My heart pounded.
Before fear could stop me, I stepped directly into the road.
The bright headlights blinded me, but I refused to move.

The tires screeched.
The car stopped barely a few feet away from me.
The driver's door flew open.
"Are you måd?" he shouted as he climbed out. "If you have a death wish, go and die somewhere else!"

His words only fueled my anger.
"All because you couldn't control yourself, you got me pregnant. I could sue you for taking advantage of me when I was helpless."
His eyes widened with disbelief.

"Taking advantage of you?" he scoffed. "You asked me to sleep with you. You told me your husband hadn't touched you in weeks. You took off your clothes yourself."

"I was drunk!" I screamed.
My voice cracked from emotion.
"I was completely drunk! I wasn't thinking straight. I wasn't myself!"
For the first time, he fell silent.

"You knew I was drunk," I continued. "You knew I wasn't making rational decisions, yet you still slept with me."
The silence between us felt heavy.
Cars began passing around us, but neither of us moved.

Finally, I took a deep breath.
"I don't want your money."
He stared at me.
"I don't want your responsibility."
Still, he said nothing.
"But I need this job."
My voice softened.

"You can deny the pregnancy all you want. You can pretend I don't exist. But don't take away my chance to work. Don't punish me for something that already happened."
His jaw tightened.

"We can't work in the same company after all that happened."
"I don't even like you," I snapped immediately. "You may be handsome, but that doesn't mean every woman falls in love with you. I simply need the job because I deserve it."

For several seconds, he studied me.
Then he sighed.
"Fine."
The single word felt like a miracle.
He turned and walked back toward his car.
"Come tomorrow morning. The job is yours."
Relief flooded through my body.

My knees almost gave way.
"Thank you," I whispered.
But he was already driving away.
That night, exhaustion weighed heavily on me.
Everything that had happened over the past week felt unreal.

My marriage had collapsed.
I was pregnant.
The father of my child wanted nothing to do with me.

And now I was starting a new life completely alone.
When I finally arrived at my apartment, the hallway was quiet.
I unlocked the door and pushed it open.
Before I could step inside, someone rushed in behind me and slammed the door shut.
I nearly screamed.

My heart jumped into my throat.
With trembling hands, I switched on the light.
The moment I saw who it was, shock froze me in place.
My husband.
His eyes were red and swollen.
His clothes looked wrinkled.
He looked like someone who hadn't slept in days.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded. "How did you find me?"
Instead of answering, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me.
The familiar warmth of his embrace caught me completely off guard.

"I missed you," he whispered.
I immediately pushed him away.
"No."
My voice shook.
"No, you don't get to do this."
His face crumbled.

"I made it clear we're getting divorced."
Then something happened that I never expected.
The proud man I had known for eleven years slowly dropped to his knees.
Tears streamed down his face.
Real tears.

The sight stunned me.
In all our years together, I had never seen him cry.
Not once.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
His shoulders trembled.
"I'm so sorry."

The anger I had carefully built around my heart suddenly weakened.
"I can't lose you."

His voice broke completely.
"The house feels empty without you."
He wiped his eyes but more tears followed.
"I wake up every morning expecting to see you."
His breathing became uneven.
"I sit at the dining table alone."

Another tear rolled down his cheek.
"I can't sleep."
He lowered his head.
"I can't eat."

For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The apartment became painfully quiet.
"If you don't want me to be the father of the baby, I understand," he continued. "If you want us to adopt someday, we'll adopt. If you want us to move away and start over, we'll start over."

He looked up at me.
"But please don't leave me."
The desperation in his eyes hurt more than I expected.

I folded my arms tightly.
"And your mistresses?" I asked bitterly.
"There were no mistresses."
"Stop lying."

"There weren't."
His voice sounded exhausted.
"That phone call you saw me answer that morning wasn't a mistress."
He swallowed hard.
"It was my boss."
I frowned.
"What?"

He nodded slowly.
"She had been chasing me for months."
The shame on his face was unmistakable.
"I didn't want you answering the phone because I was afraid you'd hear something inappropriate."

My stomach tightened.
"She kept threatening my job."
He looked away.

"Saying she could replace me whenever she wanted."
His voice became barely audible.
"I was scared."
I stared at him.
"And you slept with her?"
His eyes filled with tears again.
"Once."
The word felt like a knïfe.
"Just once."
He covered his face.

"I hated myself afterward."
The room fell silent.
"I couldn't even look at you."
His voice cracked.

"Every time I saw you, I felt guilty."
Another painful silence followed.
For years, I had believed he didn't want me.
For years, I had felt unwanted.

Rejected.
Unloved.
Now I was learning that while he had indeed betrayed me, the truth behind it was completely different from what I had imagined.
He wasn't looking at me because he couldn't bear the guilt.

He wasn't avoiding me because he didn't love me.
He was avoiding me because he hated what he had done.
As I looked at the broken man kneeling on my floor, I felt something unexpected.
The anger was still there.

The betrayal still hurt.
The lies still mattered.
But beneath all of that, another feeling slowly emerged.

Compassion.
And before I could stop it, something that felt dangerously close to forgiveness began finding its way into my heart.

The question was no longer whether I still loved him.

The frïghtenïng realization was that maybe I never stopped.

To be continued...

10/06/2026

Part 4👇

I couldn't stay in his house for one more day, so I eventually packed my bags and left. I paid for a room in a cheap hotel to spend a few days before getting an apartment.

I decided I was going to find the real father of the baby in my womb. I went back to the restaurant where I had met the man and sat there, waiting for him.

All I could afford was some juice as I watched the restaurant that afternoon. If he was a regular there, then there was a chance I would bump into him again.

But I didn't see him.

He never came.

Tired and frustrated, I returned to the hotel. Messages from my brother and my mother kept coming, advising me on what to do, but I ignored them all.

The next day, I was back at the restaurant.

For the next four days, I kept visiting the restaurant, yet I never saw him.

I could no longer continue paying for a hotel room. I began searching for a decent apartment where I could start afresh. I didn't have any property yet. I hadn't properly divorced my husband; otherwise, I would have insisted on getting part of his property.

So I moved into an empty one-bedroom apartment and began job hunting at the same time. I submitted applications to different companies, and eventually, I was called for an interview at one of them.

I dressed up immediately and hurried off to the company. Getting a job meant financial stability, even if I had no man to support me. I could take good care of myself and my baby.

"Next!"

It was finally my turn after five other people had been interviewed.

As I opened the door and stepped in, I was taken aback by the face I saw.

That handsome face.

The same man who had pleasured me in his car.

It was him.

Such a small world.

I stood rooted to the spot.

He was surprised too.

We quickly exchanged pleasantries, and he asked how I had been. I told him the truth about the pregnancy. I even forgot about the job interview.

He scoffed.

"You're pregnant?" he asked.

I nodded.

"For your husband, yes?" he added.

"No," I replied. "It's not his. It's yours."

He leaned forward across the table, and I noticed his expression change.

"Let me make this clear to you. We were two adults who had a one-time fling, no strings attached. I am a married man with children, and you are married too. I forgot about you after that day. You should do the same."

My mouth hung open in shock and disbelief.

"If you want more pleasure from me, I will gladly offer my services. But as for taking responsibility for a pregnancy from another woman who might as well be a pest looking for a host to feed on, I will not do that."

He leaned back in his seat and offered me a broad smile as though nothing had happened.

"For the sake of this company's policies, I'll make this quick and clear. We are sorry, but we can't hire you. Please see yourself to the door."

His voice was cold and completely devoid of emotion.

"Get out!"

He shouted, and I jumped to my feet in fear. Before I knew it, I was already close to the door.

"And if you still want more of what we shared that afternoon," he said with a cruel smile, "you know where to find me."

To be continued...

10/06/2026

Part 3👇

I had already made up my mind to find the stranger who got me pregnant, whether my husband liked it or not. But as I turned to return to the bedroom and gather my things, he stopped me halfway.

"Listen," he said, his voice pleading. "I know I was wrong, and I'm sorry. I should have told you the truth earlier. It's all my fault. But what do you think people will say when they hear that you got pregnant by another man while you were still married?"

"People?" I laughed bitterly. "When have people ever kept quiet? In good times and bad, people always have something to say."

I pointed at his chest, poking him repeatedly as my angër spilled over.

"It is you who deserves to be exposed! You had the audacity to lie to me for eleven years and still act as though it's normal?"

"I don't want you to leave," he said quickly. "Let's keep the baby as our own. Isn't that what you've always wanted? We can raise the child together. I'll be a good father. No one ever has to know."

The desperation in his voice was becoming obvious.

"No!" I snapped. "I'd rather be a single mother than spend another day with a man who gambled with my emotions for years!"

I shoved past him and stormed into the bedroom.

I wasn't interested in hearing another word from him.

Even if he was genuinely sorry, I couldn't bring myself to forgive such a massive betrayal. The pain sat heavily in my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

Not only had he lied to me, but he had also used his condition as an excuse to cheat. He neglected me for weeks at a time while entertaining side chicks elsewhere.

Why would I want to stay with a man like that?

I sniffed, wiped away my tears with a handkerchief, and pulled my fully packed travel bag behind me.

I would stay in a hotel for a while before finding a place of my own. At the same time, I would begin searching for the real father of my baby and start processing the divorce papers.

I reached for the bedroom door.

It wouldn't open.

I pulled harder.

Nothing.

A cold feeling settled in my stomach.

I banged on the door.

"What's the meaning of this nonsense? Open this door right now!"

"I'm sorry, dear," his voice came from the other side. "But I can't let you give another man that child. We finally have a chance to have a baby, and I can't throw that away. Please forgive me."

My anger exploded.

"Have you gone mãd? Have you completely lōst your mind? Open this door right now!"

"I'll do anything to make this right," he pleaded. "I don't want our marriage to crumble. Please, I'm begging you."

"For eleven years, I have respected you and never once disrespected you," I shouted, pounding on the door. "If that changes today, then you'd better dig your own grave before you continue gambling with my emotions!"

I hit the door repeatedly.

"Open this door, you half-man! Open this door!"

Silence.

He didn't say another word.

My heart began to race along with my temperature. I wanted to break the door down, then I remembered my purse. I rushed to it and searched frantically for my phone.

Luckily, it was still there.

With trembling fingers, I grabbed it and dialed my brother's number.

Furious, I called my brother and told him everything. "And now he has locked me inside the room and refuses to let me leave!"

"Sis, calm down," my brother said. "You know this situation is messy. What he did is evīl. You're right to get angry and even want to leave. But you got pregnant by a stranger.

I nearly expløded. "Are you seriously talking to me like that? Didn't you hear the part where I said he lied to me for eleven years? Eleven years! He's infertile!"

I paced around the room angrily. "I don't want to do this anymore. Come and get me out of here!"

My brother sighed heavily.

"What if this stranger you're planning to find is a married man? What if he wants nothing to do with you? What if he denies being the father? Just calm down. I'll come over, and we'll settle this properly."

"We are not settling anything!" I snapped. "I have packed my bags, and I'm leaving this house tonight!"

A bitter thought crossed my mind.

Was this men supporting men?

"I'm coming," my brother said before ending the call.

I sat on the bed and ran a frùstrated hand through my hair. I couldn't wait to leave that house and never return.

As far as I was concerned, he was free to bring all his side chicks into the house once I was gone.

I was done with the marriage.

After what felt like forever, the bedroom door finally opened. I grabbed my bags and dragged them behind me as I brushed past my husband and entered the sitting room.

Then I froze. My brother was seated there. So were my mother and my mother-in-law.

I slowly turned to my brother.

"What's the meaning of this?"

"Please, sit down," he said softly. "Let's talk about this."

"The only thing I want to do right now is leave this house, and nobody is going to stop me!" I fïred back.

My mother stepped in front of me. "Please, just listen to us first. Hear what we have to say."

I closed my eyes and took a long, shaky breath.

"Mum"

The tears started falling before I could stop them.

"I just want to leave and clear my head. I can't stay here another minute."

My mother held my hand gently.

"I understand. He wronged you. He lied to you, and he chëated. He deserves even worse than your angër. He deserves to be stripped of everything he owns and sent to jail. But right now, I'm thinking about your dignity and your future, especially with this baby. This isn't about him anymore."

She paused. "What if we simply raise the child as his?"

"No!" I blurted out. "What happens when the child grows up and discovers the truth? What will he think of me? He'll håte me. He'll hãte all of us."

I shook my head firmly. "I would rather find his real father and tell him the truth."

The room fell silent.

Finally, my mother spoke. "If the child starts asking questions, then tell him the truth when he's old enough to understand."

"At what cost, Mum?" I cried.

I wiped my tears angrily. "He and his mother humiliated me for years over a childlessness that was caused by him. She called me a wïtch. She said I was eating the children in my womb. Who does that to another woman?"

Fresh tears burst from my eyes. "They played with my emotions. They kept me dëpressed for years."

My mother quickly pulled me into a hug, but I gently brøke away and turned to my mother-in-law.

She looked remorseful but it didn't matter anymore.

"Didn't you ever stop to think what if I were your daughter?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "I didn't want you getting suspicious. It was my idea. Hāte me alone. I was the one who paid the doctor to falsify the reports. I dragged my son into it."

"Mum!" my husband interrupted. "Stop taking the blame. This was my decision. I did it because I wanted to protect my pride. I was selfish."

But his mother continued taking responsibility, clearly hoping there was still a chance to save our marriage.

I slowly wiped my tears and turned back to my mother. "I've made up my mind."

Everyone went quiet.

"This marriage never truly existed. It was built on lies from the very beginning."

I swallowed hard. "If the father of my child refuses to take responsibility, then I'll proudly raise this baby alone."

My voice trembled. "But I can't keep living this lie."

Without another word, I picked up my bags and headed for the door.

"Please, sisi," my brother called after me. "Think this through."

I didn't answer. I opened the door and walked out and I didn't stop.
I didn't even look back.

I ignored their voices, their pleas, and their calls until I reached the gate.

There, I boarded a tricycle and headed for the cheapest hotel I could find.

I no longer had a job. My savings were limited.
My future was uncertain.

But one thing was certain; I would never allow anyone to steal another eleven years of my life.

To be continued...

09/06/2026

Part 2 👇

I got pregnant for a stranger after eleven years of being childless with my husband, and now I didn't know how to tell him that I was pregnant. But as I thought about it, why was it that I couldn't get pregnant all these years and got pregnant in one day for a stranger?

The more I thought about it, the more suspicious it got. The hospital said we were fine, but for eleven years, I didn't even conceive, let alone lose a pregnancy.

As I stared at the results, my fingers trembled. How? I took a deep breath as I tried to process what must have been the problem, but I couldn't think of anything.

Eventually, I decided to tell him I was pregnant. That evening, I made his favourite food and waited for him to come back home from work. As he returned, I prepared a warm bath for him while smiling excitedly.

"This one I'm getting such nice treatment, I hope I'm safe?" he asked with his brows raised suspiciously.

I laughed. "You're safe," I said.

I watched him eat until he was done, then I pulled out the test results and flipped them in the air. "Guess what?" I laughed.

"You got a promotion?" he asked.

"No," I laughed. "I'm pregnant..."

The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. He watched me for a very long time before he slowly stood up from his seat and asked, "What did you say?"

"I'm pregnant." I noticed the shift in the atmosphere like I had said something really bad. "Are you not happy?" I asked slowly.

"For who? Who is that pregnancy for?" he barked.

"It's for who?" My heart began to beat quickly. Did he find out the truth? He shouldn't have known that something happened in the car, right?

"It's for you, babe. The baby belongs to us. After eleven years of childlessness, we now have our own baby!" I exclaimed.

"That child is not mine! I can never father a child!" he yelled, walking closer to me.

What? The words echoed in my head. All these years that his mother mocked me, he never stopped her. He only told me he wasn't going to leave the marriage, but he watched his family mock me. I tried to connect the dots... Is the problem from him?

"What do you mean you can't father a child?" I asked him with trembling lips.

"It means I am infetile! From the age of sixteen, I had a problem that affected my organ, and I became infetile!" he blurted out at once.

I held my breath. What?

When my husband told me he was impotent, I refused to believe it.
For eleven years, we had lived as husband and wife without a child.

For eleven years, I had endured his mother's constant insults and mockery over my childlessness. Now, after one mistake with a stranger had resulted in a pregnancy, I finally told my husband the truth only for him to reveal that he was infetile.

He had kept me in the dark for eleven years.

Eleven whole years.

I sank into the sofa, lost in thought, with a slight tremor in my chest. The betrayal felt like a knife slicing through my heart. It felt as though the weight of the entire world was pressing down on my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he said quietly. "I didn't mean to hide it."

I looked at him, my eyes burning with tears.

"When were you going to tell me?" I asked, my voice trembling.

He went silent.

That silence told me everything.

He had never intended to tell me the truth.

After a while, he finally began to explain.

When he was sixteen, he had been involved in a bicycle accident. The injury had affected only his manhood. He said he had nearly lost his life, but thankfully, his parents were wealthy enough to afford the best medical care. The surgeons managed to save his life, but they couldn't save that part of him.

That was how he became infetile.

His entire family knew.

Even his mother.

I shut my eyes and took a deep, shaky breath.

"So even your mother knows that you're infetile?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied.

I stared at him in disbelief.

"And yet both of you made it seem as though I was the problem? As though I was somehow swallowing the children in my womb? You stood there and watched her humiliate me for years?"

Tears gathered in my eyes.

"It was to avoid suspicion," he said. "If she acted differently, you might start wondering why we didn't have children. That's why I asked her to criticize you once in a while, so you wouldn't suspect anything. I didn't want you to know because I was trying to protect your feelings."

I let out a bitter laugh.

"Protect my feelings?" I repeated.

I rose from the sofa and walked toward him. The tears I had been holding back finally spilled down my cheeks.

"Or were you trying to pretend to be a man you were not? An infetile man?"

I watched the colour drain from his face.

"Eleven years of lies. Eleven years of pretending. Eleven years of making me look like the problem because you wanted to protect your pride. Because you wanted to play the role of a man you were never honest enough to be."

"Stop!" he snapped, raising a finger at me. "I didn't do it for myself. I didn't want you to feel hurt or betrayed. That's why I kept it from you."

"You should have told me before we even started this sham of a marriage," I shot back, feeling my anger boil over.

I took a deep breath and wiped my tears.

"In fact, you know what? I'm going to find the real father of my baby, and I'm going to start a new life with him."

His eyes widened.

"You will do no such thing, woman!" he roared, stepping closer.

09/06/2026

My husband was in the bathroom when his phone rang. As I stood up to take the phone to him, he ran out of the bathroom with soap lather all over his body and a towel wrapped around his waist. He grabbed the phone before I could even reach him and went back into the bathroom to answer the call.

That had been my situation throughout our marriage.

I didn't suspect anything. I trusted my husband more than anything. Like many women, I didn't want to believe he was cheating, even though the signs were everywhere. Even though he neglected me and had not touched me in months, I still didn't suspect a thing.

We had been married for eleven years without a child. I had become used to his family's jokes, jeers, and mockery. They called me childless. They called me a man. Sometimes, his mother said I was a stick and a desert. She called me a witch who had tied up her son.

According to her, she had been asking her son to get another wife, but he refused.

As I remembered all those insults and imagined even worse situations in the future, tears rolled down my cheeks. What if he had another family somewhere else?

We had gone for tests, and the results confirmed that both of us were physically fit to have children. That only made me more confused about why we still hadn't been blessed with our own baby.

After he snatched his phone from me that morning, I ignored the signs and went to work.

But when I sat in my office, ready to start my day by reading my emails, I saw a message that made my heart stop.

It was my sack letter.

I ran to the Managing Director's office to ask for an explanation, and he simply told me that the company was running short on funds and was dismissing some workers.

That was how I lost my job.

I didn't cry. I didn't even feel sad. Everything felt like a cruel joke.

I didn't go home either. Instead, I went to a bar and drank until I was completely intoxicated. By afternoon, I could barely think straight.

Then someone walked up to me. He was a very handsome, fair-skinned man who offered to help me get home.

I was grateful.

We got into his car.

But that afternoon, I wanted more than just a ride home. I had been starved of affection for months, and in my drunken state, that was all I could think about to escape my pain and misery.

Inside that man's car, I ended up sleeping with him before he eventually dropped me off at home.

But that was only the beginning of the pain and betrayal that followed.

Because six weeks later, I found out I was pregnant.

And the baby did not belong to my husband.

To be continued...

Nelly’s Diary

15/06/2026

14/06/2026

10/06/2026

10/06/2026

09/06/2026

09/06/2026

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