I Killed My Wife Without Pulling the Trigger: A Husband’s Heartbreaking Confession of Betrayal

I killed my own wife.

I’m a 36-year-old man who is successful in life. I got rich at the age of 27 through business. At 28 years, I got married to the woman I had been dating for 2 years. She was into business too, and I must say she was behind my success. She supported me in everything.

I got my first child at the age of 30, my son. I started losing interest in my wife. I would shout at her at the slightest mistake. I would find a way to insult her about her body. I started looking for women outside because sex with my wife wasn’t as good as when I first met her.

I started sleeping outside with women I met at the club. When my wife confronted me about it the next day, I would insult her. My son was the only reason I went home. I found happiness with the women outside. Mind you, I had told my wife to stop working when we got married. She was a housewife.

I stopped giving her money. That was the only way to get her to listen to me.

So, among my women outside, there was one I specially fancied. She was beautiful, and she had the body. I was into her. And Lydia was the woman I spent most of my time with. She cooked for me and treated me like a king.

Lydia was the main reason why I was maltreating my wife, because I wanted to divorce my wife and marry her. I don’t know what happened, but I mistakenly got my wife pregnant again. The maltreatment got worse when I learned of her pregnancy, someone I was planning to divorce.

Lydia comforted me and assured me she was ready to wait for another year. I was happy to hear that. Getting to the ninth month, Lydia told me that my wife would demand most of my properties if I divorced her. So, I should find someone to transfer my properties to. I thought about what she said and decided to transfer my properties to her name.

I was going to marry her, and I knew she loved me. I started the process of transferring my properties. And during that time, I stopped going home. It got to the final moment of property transferring when my lawyer traveled.

Lydia asked me about it, and I told her everything was done. I even told her the papers were in my bag. Lydia woke me up early the next day and advised me to go home to check up on my wife, as a way of preventing my neighbors from blaming me if I was divorcing her.

Lydia was the woman I listened to. I nodded my head and took my shower. But instead of serving my breakfast at the dining table, she packed it for me and told me to eat it when I got to my house. I took the packed food to my car. The good smell from the food almost made me stop to eat it.

Fast forward, I got to the house and saw my wife sitting on the couch, with my son sleeping on her laps.

“Daniel is not well,” she said the moment she saw me. I asked her what the problem was, and she told me to take him to the hospital. I carried my son in anger, leaving the food on the table.

I went to the nearest hospital. I had connections there, so I returned with my son to my house, only to find my wife in a pool of blood, the food I brought back half-eaten. My heart skipped a beat. I found out she was still breathing a little. I lifted her unconscious body to my car.

My wife died on the way to the hospital. The autopsy came back, and she had been poisoned. I knew it was the food Lydia had given to me. She had wanted to kill me and take the properties. My wife became the scapegoat. I got Lydia arrested, and she has to serve six years in prison. But I feel like I was the instigator for my wife and child’s death.

I killed my wife and child. I am a murderer, and I won’t be able to get this out of my mind. But had I known is always at last.

🎶@heart56.0