Between Two Love,I Lost Myself

I never imagined that my life would become a story told in whispers, the kind people shake their heads over and say, *“If only she had been patient.”* But this is my truth, told by me, because I must live with it every day.

I was married to a good man. A very good man. My husband loved me in ways I didn’t even know I deserved. He pampered me, cared for me, and gave me everything he could afford and even things he could not. Our home was peaceful, our meals regular, my needs always met. The only shadow hanging over our marriage was one thing after three years of marriage, I had not conceived. In our society, that silence from the womb is loud. It follows you to family gatherings, to church, even into your sleep.

My husband never blamed me. Not once. When people talked, he defended me. When I cried, he held me. But inside me, fear was growing like a weed. What if one day his patience ran out? What if love was not enough?

That was when my past returned.

Richy

 my ex. The man I loved before marriage. The man whose memory I thought I had buried. The day I set my eyes on him again, something weak inside me woke up. He was richer now, more confident, more polished. He smiled at me like the past had never ended, like the years between us meant nothing. I told myself it was harmless. Just greetings. Just catching up.

I lied to myself.

Old feelings rushed back faster than sense. I compared without meaning to. My husband’s quiet love suddenly felt ordinary beside Richy’s loud promises. When Richy told me he still loved me, I believed him without question. I felt chosen again, desired again. I forgot my vows. I forgot the man waiting for me at home.

When I became pregnant, fear mixed with excitement. For three years, nothing. Now suddenly, life. I counted dates in my head and convinced myself the child must be Richy’s. My heart leaned toward that belief because it justified my betrayal. I thought this pregnancy was proof that Richy was my destiny and my husband was just a chapter.

I was wrong.

Everything collapsed the day Richy came to my house. Not with flowers or responsibility but with insults. He stood before my husband and spoke words like knives. He claimed the pregnancy loudly, proudly, without shame. I watched my husband’s face change from confusion to heartbreak. In that moment, I wanted the ground to open and swallow me.

My husband did not shout. That hurt even more. He simply asked me to leave.

I packed my things with shaking hands and went to a friend’s house. There, I expected comfort. Instead, I met judgment. They rebuked me openly. Some asked why I thought I could return to my ex after everything. Others reminded me of the gold I had thrown away for stones. Their words confirmed what I already knew I had destroyed my own home.

When I tried to reach Richy, he disappeared. His love turned to silence. The man I risked everything for did not even want to see my face.

Pregnancy humbled me. Shame followed me everywhere on the streets, in the hospital, in my dreams. When I delivered my baby, exhausted and broken, another shock awaited me. Tests showed the child belonged to my husband.

The truth landed heavier than any insult.

My husband came. He looked at the child and claimed the baby without hesitation. He paid the bills. He did what a father should do. But when I looked into his eyes, I knew I had lost him forever. He did not take me back. He said calmly that while he could forgive enough to raise his child, he could not forget enough to live with me again.

Richy never returned. My friends drifted away. I was left standing between two worlds—rejected by the man I betrayed and abandoned by the man I chose.

Today, I carry my child and my regrets together. I have learned that love is not always loud, and desire is not always truth. I mistook patience for weakness and excitement for destiny. In chasing what I thought I deserved, I lost what I truly needed.

My life did not end, but something inside me did. And I will wear that lesson for the rest of my days between two loves, I lost myself.