How infidelity nearly ruined me

 I married two wives in two different places. My first wife was the woman I truly loved, the mother of my children. 

The second? She was a mistake I hid from my first wife. One thing led to another, and I cheated. The woman I cheated with refused to let go. 

She claimed she was pregnant and refused to get rid of it. She insisted I marry her.

Now, I pay rent for two separate apartments: one for my first wife and children, where I officially live, and the other for the second woman. And it wasn’t just any house I got her... It was a classy well furnished apartment.

To rent and furnish her apartment, I denied my family food and basic needs. I lied that I was broke just so I could save up. Then I secretly married her, without the knowledge of my first wife or our children.

Since then, I’ve been living between two homes; lying to my first wife about meetings or travels, just to spend time with my second wife.

It hasn't been easy. I’ve been living like a shell of myself, trying to survive and take care of two families without crashing.

What my first wife takes in three months is what my second wife takes in one month. Money was bleeding from my pockets down to my second wife. I was sinking, fast.

One day, I asked my second wife, "Can't you at least try to find a job, something... to support our growing family?"

She flared up. "What? With this pregnancy? With your child?! I see now… this is your plan to make me lose this baby. But never!"

I swallowed my words and kept struggling, trying to carry the cross I created.

One day, I confided in a friend. He told me something that shook me. “Don’t be surprised if that baby’s not even yours.”

That thought haunted me.

After my second wife gave birth, I decided to find out the truth. I did a DNA test secretly. The child wasn't mine.

All this time, I had been spending money, time, energy on a woman who lied to me.

When I confronted her, she simply said,

“Well, I thought you wouldn’t take me seriously after I found out you were married…”

“You found out?” I was stunned. I thought I had hidden everything perfectly.

“Of course,” she continued. “A week after we started dating, I knew. But I didn’t think it would get serious, so I kept seeing someone else.”

So who was the real father?

Turned out, she had pinned the pregnancy on me while secretly dating the real father, her boyfriend, and using my money to support and grow his business.

I was furious. I packed everything I bought and furnished that apartment with, every chair, every curtain, every spoon, and moved them to my main house. She can stay in the empty house until the rent is due. Then I divorced her.

That experience taught me a bitter lesson: never cheat again. And more importantly, that women always find out the truth.

Because as the movers unloaded the furniture into our main house, my first wife looked at me and said, “Ah! So you’ve divorced our wife? Isn’t this the furniture and utensils you bought for her?”

I froze. They both knew. All along. They just kept quiet.

But I was lucky I survived my second wife. That woman nearly ruined me.

But it left me wondering… How do women always find out when their husbands are cheating? Is it instinct? Or are they born detectives?