I fell in love with a woman any man would wish to have as a wife. At the time we met, she was in her third year in the university, while I had just started my first job in a first generation bank. I was posted to a branch close to her campus and we met when she came to open her first account.
She did not know what to do at all, so I practically filled everything she had to fill and also looked for referees and utility bills to speed up the account opening. I ordinarily would not do that for every lady, but there was this magnetic aura that held me captive. Since I was new in the town, I felt if I was lucky to move closer to someone I thought had the qualities that I had always looked for in a woman, I would miss home less.
Soon after that, we became very close because she relied on me to operate her account, which was being funded by her parents. She would come to my apartment once in a week to help cook and clean the environment, while I would help out with her assignments. I also monitored her spending and she called me her brother. Her friends actually believed that I was her brother until things took a new turn between us.
On this fateful day, she had come, as usual, to help out, but I had to rush out to the office for an impromptu Saturday duty at the bank. I had thought I would only have to spend about three hours like I was told, but unfortunately, I did not return until about 11pm. There was nobody to hand over the keys to, so she had to wait for me till I returned. She was almost crying when I got home, saying there was no way she could start going back to the hostel at that time because of an ongoing rival cult crisis on campus. I understood and apologised to her, pointing out that there was no way I could have contacted her to come and meet me in the bank because our regional manager was on a special inspection tour.
I begged her to sleep in my room till the next day (Sunday), that I would walk her to her hostel very early in the morning because I knew she had to attend her usual early morning service. I was only managing a one-room en-suite mini apartment. So, if I did not sleep on the same bed, in the tight room, I would either sleep in the kitchen or the bathroom. She understood and allowed me, reluctantly, to sleep on the same bed with her.
Hard as I tried, I could not sleep. I kept turning and when I could not bear it any longer, I tapped her and tried to have my way with her. But she started pleading that I should spare her and see myself only as her brother, with whom such a relationship would be regarded as incest. But it was as if I would run mad because, for me also, it was the first time a lady would be sleeping overnight with me on the same bed. So, I really lost control and found myself having my way against her wish. She cried and cried, and at the end of the day, I hated myself for going ahead, rather forcefully. It was a big surprise that, at that age, she was still a virgin.
At about 4am, she made to leave my room, threatening to report me to the Police the next morning, but I wept and brought her attention back to the fact that they would ask her what she was doing in my room at that time of the night and that, if her friends and other people on the campus, heard about it, she could become an object of scorn. I said it with utmost sincerity because, with what I found out about her person that night, I felt a new sense of respect for her and thought within me that I would do all I could to ensure she became my wife. I guess she thought deeply about what I said also because she stopped threatening and just continued weeping. In the morning, I walked her to her hostel, but she refused to utter a word to me. In spite of the fact that she told me to leave when we got there, I waited for her at the nearby park, so that I could also walk her to church. When she came back, she clutched her bible under her armpit and had her rosary around her neck; then she walked fast past me as if she never knew me and ran towards her church. I felt really bad. I knew that I had offended God by taking advantage of someone, who trusted me like a blood brother and had made me very comfortable in a town far away from my people. To worsen matters, in between tears, she had told me, just after the sad escapade, that she had vowed that she would not be deflowered until the night of her wedding and asked God to judge me according to my actions.I wished I could turn back the hands of the clock. I hated myself for hurting her so much despite the deep love that I had already developed for her. At first, I wanted to return to my apartment, after staying on the same spot for about 15 minutes, but I felt this strong urge to follow her to her church, at least, to beg her again after the service.
I was surprised when I entered the church and saw her confessing in tears to their priest, how she allowed herself to be used by a man she thought was her brother. She was still crying profusely as she was confessing, and I was terrified where I stood. Quietly, I walked out through the back door so that she would not sight me and hand me over to the priest as the culprit. There and then, I knew I had bungled a lifetime opportunity of getting married to my ideal woman. I could not face the shame of seeing her because she would still have one or two transactions to do at the bank. So, I reported very ill on Monday and asked to go to Lagos urgently for medical attention. From there, I worked my transfer back to Lagos. It’s five years now since I last saw this angel. I know that if our affair had resulted in an unwanted pregnancy, she or her friends would have contacted my bank and I would have been tracked. But the fact that she never called or responded to my many telephone calls suggested to me that she would not want to have anything to do with me.
I have not been able to settle down because I know that she is still single and will one day forgive me. I have decided to go through her church to appeal to her. From my findings, she has been in Lagos for two years. Readers, please wish me luck. This is the worst experience a greedy man can ever have.
