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Husband and wife relationship

I Got Home To Find My Husband Doing This With My Househelp (Fiction)

I dated my husband for 3 years before we eventually got married and I can attest that he is very good and has a heart of gold despite his charm. Yes, he is very handsome. So I considered myself lucky to have him.

Before I got married, I used to tell my friends that I will never have the need to employ a help, because of the stories we hear about them. But they laughed at me and told me confidently to 'wait till then'. After I got married, 2 years later, I couldn't really cope with balancing the pressure from work with the chores at home. So I sought for the services of a help.

My help was a girl of 14, but looked like she was 25. Her name is Rita. My friends adviced me to send her packing because according to them, 'you don't give a dog a bone to watch over'. Suddenly, I began to feel insecured. So I heed to their advice and decided to guard my territory. Subconsciously, I began to maltreat her without knowing.

But each time I try to discipline her, my husband would prevent me, saying "Please stop being hard on her". In a way, I began to suspect them, but couldn't confound my fears.

So one day, I came home from work unannounced so as to catch them red-handed because I believed there was something fishy going on between them. Owing to the fact that he sees nothing wrong in whatever she does, and was always reprimanding me for 'being hard on her'.

I quietly walked into the kitchen because I heard noises from there, but to my greatest belwiderment, I found my husband washing the dishes with Rita(my househelp).

How could he be doing the chores of a help? I exclaimed in my heart. On an impulse, I wanted to react, but I stopped to listen to her story. While she rinsed the plates, she told him stories of how horrible her childhood has been. And all the challenges that comes with being an orphan. I realized she is an orphan and tears rolled down my eyes. Why didn't she tell me her story?

I have always known my husband to have a heart of gold, but doing the duties of the help, was an act of extreme kindness. I didn't know if it was his gestures towards Rita (my help) that made me cry or her stories.

How could I have allowed jealousy becloud my sense of judgement? I really hope to make up for all my ill treatment to her.

Content created and supplied by: VivienMedia (via Opera News )



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