08/15/2025
He Married Me Without Touching Me—Then I Found a Hidden Room With Another Woman....
From the outside, our marriage was picture-perfect. People envied us. Our wedding was elegant, simple but expensive, hosted in a quiet villa outside town. He was gentle, polished, and wealthy—Akin was the kind of man every woman dreamed of. And me? I was the quiet girl who thought she had struck gold. But behind the smiles, something was… wrong.
We had been married for four months, and not once had he touched me. Not even on the wedding night.
At first, I thought maybe he was just being respectful. “I want us to build emotional intimacy before physical,” he had whispered, brushing my cheek with the back of his hand. I blushed, naive, hopeful. But weeks turned to months, and his distance never changed. No kisses. No lingering looks. No passion. Just short conversations, polite dinners, and cold sheets.
I began to wonder if I had done something wrong.
He traveled often, always “urgent meetings” in Port Harcourt or “board presentations” in Accra. When he was home, he kept to himself—always locking the third room upstairs, the only one I was told never to enter. “It’s just storage,” he said, with a tight smile. “Dusty and dangerous.”
But curiosity is loud when silence lives in your heart.
One rainy Saturday afternoon, while he was away on another mysterious trip, I decided to clean the house top to bottom. I needed a distraction from my spiraling thoughts, my aching loneliness, and the growing voice in my head asking, “Why did he marry me?”
I stood before the locked room. My heart raced. I knew he kept the keys in his drawer. He once left it open for a second when I walked in, and I never forgot. With trembling hands, I took the key.
The lock clicked.
Dust flew as I pushed the door open. The room was dark, cold, and windowless. At first glance, it looked empty—just boxes, old curtains, and a heavy wardrobe against the far wall. But something was off.
The wardrobe had no dust on it.
I walked closer, touched it.
It moved.
There was a draft.
Behind it… a door.
My hands shook as I opened it—and what I saw made my soul jump out of my skin.
A bed. A woman.
Alive.
She lay unconscious—or asleep—hooked to some kind of IV. A fan buzzed above her, and a small monitor blinked green. The air smelled of antiseptic and fear. My feet froze. My eyes scanned the room. Clothes. Hairbrush. A photo on the wall. Her and Akin. Smiling.
She looked like me.
Same height. Same skin tone. Same quiet face.
I gasped.
And just then… her eyes opened.
She whispered, “Did he marry you too?”
To be continued…👇
https://celebritytimess.com/dung1/he-married-me-without-touching-me-then-i-found-a-hidden-room-with-another-woman/
