Pierced hearts

Her perfect relationship

Chapter one

Richard and I have been together for three years. He is my definition of a perfect man, and we are very fond of each other. Even though we quarrel most of the time, we always find a way to settle our differences. I affectionately call him Richie. He is the only son and has two sisters; their parents have passed away. He does his best to always put a smile on his siblings' faces, and I adore him for that.

Richie is very devoted to me and doesn't appreciate me interacting with other men. He feels that he shouldn't have to share me, which leads him to check my phone daily. I try my best to reassure him of my love and commitment to our relationship. I understand that his insecurities come from a place of caring, and I want to support him.

As a pretty curvy woman with caramel skin, full hair, and a unique gap in my teeth, l often feel that my smile enhances my beauty. I appreciate that Richard trusts me to some extent, and I hope to nurture that trust as we continue to grow together.

Richard moved to a new apartment, I was very happy for him, it wasn't easy furnishing the new apartment, but we actually did,

Richie and I don’t live together, and I usually only visit on weekends, although it’s not every weekend. This particular weekend, I was at his place, and as usual, he was engrossed in a video game marathon with his friends in the living room. Meanwhile, I found myself in his bedroom, rummaging through drawers in search of something.

As I slid open the drawer, I was taken aback by what I discovered – a pack of condoms tucked away inside. The sight sent a jolt of shock through me. You might wonder why I reacted this way; it’s because Richie and I have never used condoms during our intimate moments. In fact, the only time we did was early in our relationship, when he insisted on it. Since then, he has expressed a clear preference for skin-to-skin contact, even during my period when we choose to refrain from any physical intimacy until I’m finished

This unexpected find sparked a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions in my mind. I began to question everything: What was a condom doing in his drawer? It hadn’t been there the last time I visited, and considering we don’t use them, it left me wondering who he might have used it with. The unsettling possibility that Richie might be cheating on me loomed heavily in my thoughts, igniting a mix of anger and confusion within me. Being an emotional person, I felt on the verge of tears, my heart racing with anxiety.

Should I confront him right away? A flurry of questions raced through my mind, but I hesitated. His friends were still in the living room, and the last thing I wanted was to create a scene. Just then, Richie entered the room, his expression changing as he noticed my mood. He asked if I was okay, but I managed to respond with a simple, “I’m fine, just feeling a bit off.”

“Babe, what’s wrong with you?” he pressed softly, concern evident in his voice.

I could sense the genuine worry in his eyes, but I didn’t want to unburden myself just yet. “It’s nothing serious, just a mood swing,” I reassured him, but he wasn’t easily convinced. Richie knows me too well; he can read me like a book and can easily tell when something is bothering me. I decided to keep my feelings guarded for the moment, telling him I would share when I was ready, and that I just needed some time alone to process everything swirling in my head.

What if I’m overreacting? I truly trust my boyfriend, but what I just saw has left me feeling uneasy. I decided it was best to have an open conversation with him. Later that night, once his friends had left, I mustered the courage to ask him about it.

“Richie, please be honest with me. What I’m about to ask is important, and I need you to be truthful.”

He responded, “Come on, babe, have I ever lied to you? I promise I’ll tell you the truth. What’s on your mind?”

With my heart racing, I asked, “What’s a condom doing in your drawer? We both know we don’t use them.”

I noticed a sudden look of shock on Richard’s face. “Please, can you answer me? How did this condom get here?” He seemed momentarily speechless before finally saying, “Babe, I can’t cheat on you, and you know that.”

My frustration grew as I sought clarity. “Can you explain what this condom means?”

At that moment, I felt so hurt and confused. I wanted to believe him, but his hesitation made me doubt everything. Richard insisted he hadn’t used it on anyone else. He claimed he went to the pharmacy with a friend, saw the condom, and bought it just in case we ever needed it. But I couldn’t help but wonder—why would he do that? Am I really supposed to believe this?