It started on our wedding night.
I thought it would be the night my dream came true…
But when I reached for her, she said softly,
“Not tonight.”

I didn’t take it seriously.
I had heard new brides can be shy at first.

I told myself to be patient, maybe in a few days, whatever wall she had built around herself would melt.

On the streets, everyone spoke highly of my wife. She was loving, caring, and beautiful. I felt like the luckiest man alive. Sometimes, when I sat and she walked past, I’d smile at her beauty, and thank God I made the best choice.

During the day, we laughed, played, and did everything together happily.

I cooked for her.
I bought her flowers.
I even surprised her with a weekend getaway.

After giving her enough time, I made another attempt. But she pulled away… gently, but firmly.

“I’m stressed,” she said. “It’s been a long day.”

I took a deep breath and believed her.

The next day was Saturday. I decided to cook and handle all the major chores, thinking that at night she’d have no reason to be tired. I had waited long enough.

But that night… the result was still the same.

I finally asked, “Is there something I’ve done wrong? Why won’t you let me near you?”
She looked at me for a long moment… her lips trembled… and then she simply said, “I’m sorry… I just can’t. Not yet.”

Her answer didn’t sit well with me. My chest felt tight, but I kept my voice calm.
“Not yet… but when?” I asked.
She turned away. “Please, just understand.”

“Do you realize how this is making me feel? You keep shutting me out, and I don’t even know why.”

I left the room and lay down in the sitting room.

What I didn’t know was that she didn’t sleep all night, she was crying. In the morning, I saw her swollen eyes from tears.

I wasn’t moved. I left the house and met my senior friend, telling him what I was facing. He gave me some advice, and I went back home feeling relieved.

I apologized to her. Our mood lightened up, and it seemed like my friend’s advice was working. That night, her mood felt different… almost as if she was ready and everything was finally okay.

With happiness, I went into the bathroom whistling, already imagining that I would finally reach the promised land.

But when I came out… she was gone.
The bedroom was empty.

I checked the sitting room, nothing.
I searched the kitchen, empty.

I reached for my phone to call her… but my phone was nowhere to be found.

I couldn’t stop thinking about where my wife had gone in the middle of the night.
Her absence left an ache in my chest and a swirl of questions in my head.

After pacing for a while, I walked to the window, I slowly pulled the curtain just enough to peek through the narrow gap.

That’s when I froze.

A dark blue car was parked a few houses down the street, its headlights off but the faint glow of the street lamp casting just enough light to reveal her figure. My wife stood right beside the car.

The driver’s window rolled down, and she leaned in, speaking to someone inside, her eyes darted around nervously, scanning the street like she didn’t want to be seen.

Then, the person in the car reached out and handed her something, a small brown envelope. She took it quickly, almost too quickly, and slipped it into her jeans pocket before straightening up and walking away.

I let the curtain fall shut and stepped back, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. I decided not to ask her about it, not yet. If she wanted to tell me, she would. But if she didn’t… I was going to find out myself.

When she came back inside, she acted like nothing had happened.
“Honey, were you looking for me?” she asked, her smile looking warm at first glance… but something in her eyes didn’t match it.

I forced one back, hiding the storm brewing inside me.
“No, I just came out of the bathroom,” I replied, keeping my voice steady.

She tilted her head slightly, as if trying to read my thoughts. Then, in a sudden rush, she said, “Oh, sorry, I stepped out to check something, and I must have grabbed your phone instead of mine.”

I gave a small nod. “Alright.”

She chuckled awkwardly and tried to lighten the air with a few jokes, but my mind wasn’t there. I watched her more than I listened, trying to see if she’d reveal something in her expressions.

A few minutes later, she slipped into the bedroom. I heard the faint creak of the drawer opening, then closing again. When she came back out, she wrapped her arms around me as if nothing had happened.

“Aren’t you sleeping yet?” she asked softly.

“No,” I answered.

“Well, I need to,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “They’re heavy, and I have to get up early for work tomorrow.” She kissed my forehead gently and added, “Goodnight.”

She disappeared into the bedroom, leaving me alone in the dim light of the living room. I stayed there, staring into space, my mind playing scene after scene of what I had just witnessed. Was she hiding something from me? Could it be connected to the reason she’d never let me touch her? Was there another man? Or something far worse?

That night, sleep never came easily.

By morning, I had a plan.
I would get home before her… and search for that brown envelope.

We left the house together. I dropped her off at work, acting as normal as I could, then drove to my office. But I didn’t stay long. After making an excuse to leave, I cleared my desk, grabbed my keys, and headed back home.

As I turned onto my street, my grip tightened on the steering wheel. My eyes immediately locked on something ahead.

The same blue car from last night… was parked right in front of my house.

Something felt wrong… like someone was in the house with my wife.
I parked a short distance away, stepped out quietly, and walked toward the door, my footsteps slow, my heartbeat faster than normal.

From inside, I heard voices, low, almost like a whisper. I couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was enough to make my gut boil.

I stood there for a second, debating whether to walk in calmly or storm inside. But the thought of another man in my home with my wife was enough to push me over the edge.

I couldn’t wait any longer.
I pushed the door open and froze.

She wasn’t at work like she told me.
Instead, she was right here… in our sitting room… with another man.

The two of them turned to me at the same time, their faces showing the exact same thing, shock. They never expected me back so early.

The man jumped to his feet so quickly, he nearly tripped over himself.
“Welcome, sir… sorry, sir…” he stammered, avoiding my eyes.

I took a step forward, anger surging through me like a wave.
“What are you doing here?” My voice was sharp, louder than I intended.

He stepped back, glancing at the door like a trapped animal looking for an escape.

My wife rushed between us, her hands trembling. Her eyes darted from me to him and back to me.
“Please, honey, calm down” she pleaded.

I snapped.
“Don’t ‘honey’ me!”

That was all the man needed to make his move.
He slipped past us, muttering something under his breath, and bolted out of the house. By the time I turned, he was gone.

I faced her, my chest rising and falling heavily. My voice came out low, but sharp enough to cut through the air.
“So… this is the man you prefer over me? Is this why you’ve refused to let me touch you for over three months after our wedding?”

Her eyes filled with tears immediately.
“We were just discussing… it’s not what you think—” she whispered.

“Then what is it?!” I shot back.

She kept crying, her lips shaking, her eyes refusing to meet mine.

“Where is the brown envelope he gave you last night?” I demanded.

Her eyes widened, she hadn’t realized I’d seen her holding it.
“It’s… it’s inside the bedroom,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I stepped closer, my voice firm.
“It’s either you tell me the truth right now… or this marriage ends today.”

She shook her head quickly, the tears falling faster.
“It hasn’t gotten to that. You know I love you,” she said, her voice breaking.

I didn’t answer. I just stood there, waiting.

Finally, she took a deep breath, her voice trembling.
“I’m ready to tell you everything… and who that man is. I don’t want this marriage to break… but promise me you won’t leave.”

“Just go ahead and say it,” I demanded.

Her eyes glistened as she whispered,
“First… I want to show you something on my body. I’ve been keeping it a secret.”

My eyes widened. I didn’t know what to expect, but something in her tone made my chest tighten.

She looked at me for a moment, then said softly,
“Come with me… to the bedroom.”

She led me into the bedroom… and I had no idea what I was about to see.

Without saying a word, she reached behind and quietly closed the door.

I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on her, waiting.

She hesitated, her breathing uneven, then slowly reached for the side of her gown. Her hands trembled as she stood there facing me.

“This… this is the reason I’ve been avoiding you,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

And then I saw it, a strange mark on her skin.

I stared for a moment, confused.
“So how does that stop us from making love?” I asked, my voice full of concern.

She didn’t answer. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, as if she was silently begging me to understand without words.

Before I could press further, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen, then quickly picked up.
“I’m fine,” she said softly, before ending the call almost immediately.

I barely paid attention to the call. My mind was still stuck on the mark I’d just seen.

She looked at me, eyes wet and trembling.
“Tears won’t help,” I said firmly. “I need answers… not more confusion. Just tell me what this mark means.”

Before she could respond, my own phone started ringing. I ignored it — until a text came in from the same number.

I want to talk to you. Privately. It’s about your wife. What you don’t know about her is bigger than you think.

I stepped outside and called the number back immediately.

A male voice answered without hesitation.
“I’m the man who just ran out of your house. Don’t ask how I got your number… but take my advice, leave your wife and find another woman. I knew her long before you did. Goodbye.”

The call ended.

I stood there, stunned.
What was really going on? Was there more about my wife I didn’t know? And why did it feel like both of them shared some hidden truth, leaving me completely in the dark?

Right there, I made up my mind, tonight, she would tell me everything. Every secret. Nothing would stay hidden anymore.

Later that evening, while she was in the kitchen preparing dinner, I decided to check her phone. I already knew her password.

My hands were steady, but my mind raced as I opened her messages. I searched for his number… and found their chat.

Him: I want you back.
Her: No, please… you disappeared for years and expected me to wait? I’m beginning to love my husband.
Him: Remember the mark.

I was about to scroll further when I heard her voice behind me.
“Honey…” she called softly.

I quickly locked the phone and slid it away.

She paused in the doorway, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she suspected something.
Then she asked,
“Where’s my phone?”

I looked at her, my mind battling between anger, curiosity, and the urge to demand the truth right now.

…To be continued

The room was quiet, heavy with tension. I had made up my mind, no more silence, no more guessing.

I looked her straight in the eyes and said,
“Your phone is with me… I saw the messages between you and that man.”

Her eyes widened, her lips trembled, she was speechless.

“So it’s true then?” I continued, my voice firmer than I intended.
“You have something to do with him. Maybe you should go to him… since I’m not good enough as your husband.”

“No, please,” she blurted, stepping closer. Her voice cracked as she continued.
“The truth is… he’s my ex. We planned to get married years ago, but he disappeared. Before he left, he gave me that mark I showed you. He claimed it was to keep me loyal to him… and warned that if I ever slept with another man, the mark would harm me.”

She paused, her breathing uneven.
“I’ve been scared all this time. I told my friend before we got married. She said I should go ahead with the wedding since he was gone. But… on our wedding day, I saw him again. Since then, I’ve been trying to deal with him. He still wants me back. And that brown envelope… it was just some random documents I couldn’t make sense of, nothing important.”

I took a slow, deep breath. She expected me to explode in anger, but instead, I walked to her and pulled her into a hug.
“You should have told me this before… but it’s not too late. I’m here now. We’ll face this together.”

The next day, I met with a police investigator friend. I told him everything and handed over all the details. His eyes widened. “This man is already on our wanted list. He’s done this to many women. Those marks? Just a cruel trick to keep them under his control.”

We made a plan.

Three days later, my wife invited him over. He came, confident and smiling. As he tried to lure her back into his trap, I stepped out from the bedroom. His face fell. Before he could escape, police officers surrounded him. They arrested him on the spot.

After hours of interrogation, he confessed to everything. His crimes were far worse than we imagined. Eventually, the court sentenced him.

It was over.

For the first time in a long while, I saw genuine joy on my wife’s face. She laughed, she danced, she thanked me over and over for standing by her. We took a week off from work, and for the first time… I had every access to my wife’s heart and soul.

A year later, we welcomed twins into our lives. Our home was filled with laughter, love, and trust. We promised each other never to hide secrets again, to face every battle side by side.

Because in marriage, two are truly better than one.

Remember, Love grows when there is trust, and battles are easier to win when fought together.