Self torture stories

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His precious wife who had just given him a baby girl died in an inferno, his parents said. He was not ready to remarry but his parents wanted more children. I was asked to marry him. My mother and his mum are close friends. I had only seen him once and then I liked him, but did I really want to marry him? Was I even ready for marriage in the first place? Eventually, I gave in. I would get to love him as days become weeks; this guy is lovable, a handsome scion. He did not want me, and I wanted to back out, but our parents would not accept that.

They encouraged me to be patient; I felt like I was forced on him by his parents. We got married, but Self torture stories was hell. He did not hit me like some irrational men with unorthodox acts do. He stood at his end, and I on the other end. That was not my dream. I had always wanted a happy home; a caring husband and cute. But how was it possible to have kids when we never slept together as married couples do? Jude is sedulous at work. He leaves home very early in the morning and arrives late at night.

Perhaps, he only saw me as his cook, because he eats my meals and gives me no compliments. My parents knew what I was going through but they could only advise me to endure for a while, and sure, I did. Feyi, my friend pushed me to him.

He arrived home one Thursday evening and I gave him a surprise hug. He pushed me back instantly, reacting as if I was some flames Self torture stories fire trying to consume him. That was the first direct speech I got from him in the weeks after our marriage. What I saw in his eyes was fear and it got me befuddled. Have I turned into a monster? I watched him mount the stairs and I sank into the easy chair, thinking.

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What am I going to do? The next day, Feyi came around to find out the outcome. Thank God I have her. She is a friend in a million. I related everything to her. I thought she would just take the failure of Self torture stories just concluded mission, but instead, a smile lit her face. Earlier, she had been complaining of low sales and had worn a frown on her face, so I was surprised to see that my story brought some light to her face.

She adjusted herself in the three-seater," He spoke with you. That's good news. What you need to do now is to push further. She laughed, "Well, anything can happen but I trust Jude, he is not a bully. You just need to do that to force words out of him; out of his mouth," she said. I did not have to think for so long as he descended the stairs back minutes later in a Jordan polo and brown combats shorts. He went into the small bar and got himself a drink. I could not see its label because he sat at the bar with his back turned towards me.

I tiptoed to him and got my hands around his neck. He shook, freeing himself from my hold. He stood up from the chair and turned to me, "I thought I told you to leave me alone! He paused in his tracks and without turning, he said, Self torture stories scared that I may just throttle you one day.

I hate you! That you caused her death? I watched him leave. I had to think that he caused, maybe unintentionally, the leaking cylinder which caused his late wife's death, but with his reaction, I knew he did not. That night, I went into his room and found him sleeping. I got his keys from the drawer and locked us in, then went into the bed with him.

That was the first time we would sleep together. I covered myself with the duvet and put my hands around him.

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He stirred, then opened his eyes. His eyes rested on mine and he sprang up as if I was a snake. He left the bed and darted to the door. I laughed when he realized that I had locked the door. He turned towards me. He shook Self torture stories head, "Tell your parents you're tired of this marriage, I'm sure they still need you alive," he said, his hands akimbo.

I don't even understand your madness! Are you the first widower who'll remarry? She's been with your mum all these while and you never want to see her? I walked out of bed towards him and he cowered back as if I was a demon. He cowered back till his back was on the door.

I was confused again. I went to the dressing table and looked at myself. It was me! Tears burned in my eyes, "Why are you torturing me this way? I never dreamt of this kind of woeful marriage. Damn you Jude! This is self torture. The remedy is as simple as ABC. Just divorce me. I became angry. I went for the keys under the pillow and unlocked the door. Then I said to him, "Get out of here, Jude! I slammed the door furiously and went back to bed.

I cleaned my face, and assured myself that I would not cry anymore. I slept and woke up at midnight. I decided to check where he had slept. When I got to the first riser at the stairs, holding onto the railings, I found him sitting on a sofa bed with his head bowed. I went to him and Self torture stories him, and, lo, he was crying. Reading has always been an integral part of every success story. Kindly take note that you are entirely and solely responsible for any content you make available on this website, either by submitting a literature or by your actions in the comment sections and other part s of this website.

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You may also read: The 'not so obvious' choice. Africa never dies. The men in her life. About I. David Olusanya He is a lover of art. He has written a of books in the genres of literature but he mainly write prose. He writes largely works of fiction, ranging from city stories to village tales.

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Alongside writing, he loves reading and drawing. Nice write-up, David.

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