Episode 1- Father's Pain(Love Story)

This story titled "Father's Pain"  is a very great story, which unveiled true life story of a friend. Life might seems complicated for you, but my dear reader’s never stop showing

love and never give up.

This particular story shall enlighten your knowledge more about life….I mean life!
Please never forget to always drop your comments  on Aynaijablog.blogspot.com  and invites your friends for more emotional stories …

 Episode 1->CLICK HERE<
Episode 2->CLICK HERE<
Episode 3->CLICK HERE<
Episode 4->CLICK HERE<
Episode 5->CLICK HERE<
Episode 6->CLICK HERE<
Episode 7->CLICK HERE<
Episode 8->CLICK HERE<
Episode 9-
Episode 10->CLICKHERE
Episode 11->CLICKHERE
Episode 12->CLICK HERE
Episode 13->CLICK HERE
Episode 14->CLICK HERE
Episode 15->CLICK HERE
Episode 16->CLICK HERE
Episode 17->CLICK HERE
Episode 18->CLICK HERE
Episode 19->CLICK HERE
Episode 20->CLICK HERE
Episode 21->CLICK HERE
Episode 22->CLICK HERE
Episode 23->CLICK HERE
Episode 24->CLICK HERE
Episode 25->CLICK HERE
Episode 26->CLICK HERE
Episode 27->CLICK HERE
Episode 28->CLICK HERE
Episode 29->CLICK HERE
Episode 30->CLICK HERE
Episode 31->CLICK HERE
Episode 32->CLICK HERE
Episode 33->CLICK HERE
Episode 34->CLICK HERE

Episode 1
i stared fixedly at Prof. Solomon Laryea, my wife’s lawyer. Perhaps, I
did not hear him well, I assured myself. I felt my lawyer’s hand on my
arm obviously trying to restrain me from over reacting.
“Excuse me, sir. What did you just say?” I asked, still confident that
I really did not hear the astute lawyer well when he made the fatal
He was a short and stout man with a rich amount of white beard. He
must be above 60 years. That he was a brilliant lawyer goes without
saying. He was well respected by his peers. It is well known that he
had taught some of the judges who were currently on the bench at the
Supreme Court.
Prof. Laryea sat back in his chair, caresing his white beard as he
stared back at me. Then he leaned forward slowly, with his hands on
his oak-paneled desk and then spoke.
“I understand how you feel, Mr. Ofori-Mensah. But what I said is the
truth. My client is ready for a DNA test at any health facility of
your choice to prove her claim” he said.
My wife sat by him with an expressionless face. Even then, her beauty
was not in doubt. She had a nose that will make many a beauty
contestant envy her. Her big romantic eyes stared at the lawyer as he
spoke. She was ignoring me for obvious reason. Seated behind her was
her brother, Nana Kweku. He wore an expressionless look on his face.
No one, looking at my wife even as she sat across the table from me,
would imagine that she would cheat on me. First of all, she had the
innocent look of an angel. If she were to be taking part in a movie
about the life of Jesus Christ, Mary, the mother of Jesus, would have
been the best role to cast her in. She really looked as innocent as
Mary. Her beauty makes screen goddess, Marilyn Monroe, look ordinary.
Secondly, that she cheated on me in spite of all that I had done for
her will surprise many.I never starved her sexually. We made love at
least three times a week. And, when it came to material things, I had
made her the envy of her friends. Yet, she went ahead to cheat on me
with no other person than my b---m friend, Edwin. I had caught her in
the act myself.
“Excuse me sir, I did not get what you said. Can you please repeat
yourself once more” I asked, though his assertion that my wife was
ready for a DNA meant I had heard exactly what he said.
“Mr. Ofori-Mensah, my client here, your wife, says Peter and Pamela
are not your biological children. As you know, only a mother can tell
the real father of her child or children. Your wife says the
biological father of the two children is another man he would name at
the right time” Prof. Laryea repeated.
The lawyer’s comments were like a hammer hammering at my heart. I
began to tremble all over. I could feel my blood boiling inside me and
my heart threatening to burst out of my chest.
“How dare you tell me this nonsense!?How dare you tell me that Peter
and Pamela are not my children!?” I said through clenched teeth, my
anger boiling. Suddenly, I banged my fist with such ferocity on the
desk that a flower vase on it tumbled and fell. So did a pen and some
My wife got up and backed away in fright. I guess she had never seen
me in that mood before. She had never seen me this angry. Her brother
stepped protectively in front of her.
“Calm down, Mr. Ofori-Mensah” Prof. Solomon Laryea said, getting up
and taking a step back to ensure I will not reach him if I lash out at
him. My lawyer held me to restrain me but I knew no stopping.
“You are a stupid man to call me here to tell me this crap! If you try
such nonsense with me, you’ll regret it. If you try this nonsense with
me, I’ll kill you! You hear me!” I screamed as I swiftly leaned across
the table and grabbed the front of his suit, shaking him violently
even before he realized I was going to grab him.
…………..to be continued…………

I tightened my grip on him.My lawyer grabbed me from behind, trying to
yank me away from his learned friend.
But, my grip on Prof. Laryea was so tight that my lawyer’s effort was in vain.
“Stop! You are killing me!” Prof. Laryea managed to scream out. I was
so much red hot with anger that it did not dawn on me I was choking
“Paul! Stop it! You’ll kill the man!” I heard my lawyer scream. It was
only then that I realized I was on the verge of committing murder. I
quickly let go off the lawyer who immediately sunk to his knees,
clutching at his neck and coughing.
I turned my attention towards to my wife. She was visibly shaken by my
anger; she obviously had never seen me in that state of anger in all
the twelve years we had been married. I took a step towards her and
asked what she meant in claiming my two children, Peter and Pamela,
were not my biological children. His brother, Nana Kweku, immediately
stepped in front of me, blocking my path to his sister, my wife.
Before he knew what was happening, I had taken hold of him by his
shirt and hurled him across the room.
He landed on the ground. I turned my attention to my wife only to
realize she was not there. I caught sight of her escaping through the
door. She had kicked off her shoes to ensure she could run as fast as
she could.
I immediately dashed to the door. When I got there, she had reached
the bottom of the stairs, about to step out of the building. I went
down the stairs three at a time, got to the bottom, opened the door
and rushed out only to collide with the security man on duty.
“ Hey! What is wrong with you?” he asked, grabbing me. I hit his hands
away and ran pass him before he could stop me. My wife was already
getting into her car. I recognized immediately it was too late to get
her so I dashed to my car parked nearby. By the time I got in, she was
far away. Nevertheless, I went after her.
My car surged forward as I stepped on the accelerator, speeding down
the road. I was on time to see her about a hundred metres away,
turning left at a junction. I stepped harder on the accelerator. The
next five minutes saw my wife and me in a car chase, with me in hot
We both jumped traffic lights and sped over zebra crossings. I barely
avoided knocking down two market women at a zebra crossing. I saw them
in my rearview mirror, screaming obscenities after me as I sped away.
Far ahead, I saw my wife also miss colliding with another vehicle.
Finally, she headed for the central market square. By this time, I was
only about forty metres behind her. My thoughts were all filled with
the beating I would subject her to when I finally catch up with her.
I had never touched her. I had never even contemplated or attempted
beating her because I loved her so much. Further, I distasted people
who beat women. However, on this day, I was ready to do my worse to
her for telling me I was not the biological father of my children.
She brought her car to a screeching halt at the car park in front of
the market, got out and flee into the market as I brought my car to a
screeching halt beside hers. But I knew having dashed into the market,
there was no way I could get her again. Firstly, it would be
tantamount to looking for a needle in a hay stack with the kind of
crowd that was in the market. Secondly, there was no way the crowd
would look on unconcerned while I beat her up. They may end up beating
…………to be continued………

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