Men often deceive themselves, thinking it is fun to chase after married women. They see it as a game, an adventure, something to brag about over drinks. But the hunter should beware, for he may soon become the hunted. It is easy to be seduced by what lies beyond the boundary, to ignore the dangers that are hidden beneath the allure.
I have seen these married women—wives of wealthy and well-known men. They are women of a certain class, their eyes shadowed with secrets and their bodies clothed in the finest fabric. They glide through the world with an elegance that money can buy, while their husbands, distracted by younger girls, drift farther from home. It is said that when the bird gathers to eat, the one that does not see the trap gets caught.
These women are no fools. They know the game. They have learned it in the silence of empty bedrooms, in the loneliness of luxurious homes where laughter echoes only in memory. They do not cling or cry for love. No, they are the ones who understand the power of absence and the art of making men come to them. They are not after marriage or promises. They are after something else—something that lies deep and hidden, something that men often cannot see until it is too late.
I have watched these women preen in front of mirrors, fixing their makeup and arranging their hair in expensive salons. They are fashionable, yes. They dress to impress, to outshine, to catch the eye and hold it. They do not ask for attention; they demand it, and men willingly give it. They move through life with a confidence that comes from knowing they have nothing to lose. They are the ones who see clearly while others stumble in the dark.
But there is a reason they play this game. Their husbands, thinking themselves untouchable, have left them in the shadows. These women have been left to fend for themselves, to navigate a world that values beauty more than loyalty. They do not sit idle, waiting for the day their men will return. No, they step into the light, seeking their own revenge in quiet whispers and secret meetings. They know that when the palm wine tapper hears the sound of the falling tree, it is already too late.
Men think they are in control, that they hold the reins of this dangerous game. But they are wrong. These women are the bait, the trap, the sweet fruit that is beautiful to look at but bitter to taste. And when men fall, they fall hard, with no one to catch them. They realize too late that they were never the hunter but the prey, lured by a promise that was never meant to be kept.
I tell you, men, do not play with fire and call it fun. The times have changed, and the women of today are not the women of old. They have seen the world and know its ways. They have suffered in silence and emerged stronger. They are not afraid to turn the tables, to make you pay for the wounds they endured. Beware of the water that has already been crossed, for it holds no secrets.
For those who still think they can have their cake and eat it too, remember this: the world is no longer as forgiving as it once was. What you take today may be demanded back tomorrow, with interest. It is a lesson learned by those who have tried to play both sides and lost.
And to the women who stand at the center of this storm, remember that every path has its end. The world may cheer you on today, but it will judge you tomorrow. In the end, we all carry the weight of our choices. Some roads are better left untraveled, for the wind does not always carry you where you wish to go.
Content by: 𝗞𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗶𝗻 𝗡𝘆𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗲
