I Was the Side Chick for Two Years. The Day He Cried in My Lap, I Knew I Had to Leave.

Back in 2021, I was 26, working at a marketing firm in Ikeja. He was 41, married with two kids, and the CEO of a client company. I told myself it was just about the money , he paid my rent, bought me bags, sent 150k every month. But omo, I was lying to myself from day one.

The first time we met was at a business meeting. He had this calm voice, the way he looked at me made my skin warm. Three weeks later, I was in his car outside my house in Ogba, and he kissed me. I didn't stop him. I didn't want to.

For two years, we had a system. He would call me when his wife traveled, or during lunch breaks when he said he was at the gym. We met at hotels in VI, sometimes at a friend's empty flat in Surulere. The sneaking was part of the thrill. The way he held me after , like I was the only woman in the world , made me forget I was sharing him.

But the guilt started eating me. I would see his wife's pictures on his phone and feel like a thief. I would lie to my own mother about where I was going. One night, he came to my place looking broken. His wife had found a receipt for a hotel. She didn't know it was me, but she had screamed at him for hours. He cried in my lap, and I held him. That was when I knew , I was not just his side chick. I was his escape. And that is a heavier thing to be.

I broke it off six months ago. I changed my number, left the job, moved to a new place in Yaba. He still tries to reach me through friends. Some days I want to call him. But I remind myself: the stolen moments are sweet, but they are stolen. And you can't build a life on what belongs to someone else.