I slept with my best friend's fiancé the night before their traditional wedding

It was a Thursday. She had sent me to drop the aso-ebi at his place in Surulere because she was still at the salon. He opened the door with no shirt. I should have dropped the bag and ran.

We didn't even talk. I have never told anyone this. Not my mother, not God, not even the priest I confessed to last year because I lied to him about what I actually did. The wedding held on Saturday. I stood next to her as chief bridesmaid and held her bouquet and smiled for the camera. Nobody knew.

They have two children now. Every time she posts him with a caption like 'my king', something in my chest folds in. I don't know if I am asking for forgiveness or if I am just tired of carrying it.