The first time I saw Adepa, I was at a club with my friend Julian. He wanted to party, and I knew he only needed a designated driver, but being the good friend I am, I agreed to tag along. Adepa was full of energy, captivating in a way I couldn’t quite explain. By the time we were leaving, I already had her number.

Soon, I started calling her regularly, and she’d invite me to parties. Honestly, it was overwhelming. I wasn’t into that scene, but I was into Adepa, so I tried to keep up. Then, one day, she told me she was pregnant. I thought this was the turning point. I loved her and figured that maybe marriage would make her settle down, leave the wild parties behind, and we could start a family together.

When I pitched the idea of marriage to her, her reaction shocked me. She was furious.

"I don’t want kids, and I never will! Let’s get rid of it," she said.

I was stunned. "Then why are you even doing this?" I asked, confused and hurt.

"For fun! I never planned to settle down," she snapped back.

I fought hard against the abortion, but she went through with it anyway. That was how our relationship ended. I was heartbroken and bitter, but for some reason, I couldn’t stop myself from stalking her social media. My friends thought I was crazy for even caring.

"Where did you think this was going? That woman is a free spirit, not someone who wants to settle down. This breakup is a blessing," my friend Joseph told me, trying to knock some sense into me.

"She’s not marriage material. Did you see all those tattoos?" my sister Lucy chimed in.

My cousin Akyaa once said, "When you marry a club girl, you marry a burden. They don't cook, they don't clean, and they don't work." At the time, her words stung, and I started believing them. After all, I had lived through the chaos of my relationship with Adepa. But everything changed when I ran into her again.

It was at a friend’s function, and to my surprise, Adepa seemed... different. Mellow. Calmer than she used to be. We exchanged brief pleasantries and went our separate ways, but she stayed on my mind. The next time I saw her was at another event, and though she was having fun, she still wasn’t the wild party girl I remembered.

One day, I ran into her serving drinks at a friend’s baby’s christening. Curious, I asked, “I see you a lot serving drinks. What’s up? You have a brand now?”

"Yes," she replied, her face lighting up as she explained. "I started a business. We deal in local drinks." She even asked me to book her for events, and I found myself drawn to her all over again. She wasn't the Adepa I used to know—she was someone new, someone who had grown.

I couldn’t resist asking, "You don't go clubbing anymore? I go there and I don’t see you." It was a lie—I hadn’t been to a club in ages. I just wanted to know if she had truly changed.

"No... I'm busy now," she replied with a smile. From that moment, I started ordering drinks from her every weekend, not because I needed them, but just for the chance to see her.

One day, when she came over, I didn’t let her leave. “Don’t you see that I didn’t call for drinks? I just want to know you again,” I admitted, the words slipping out. “Do you still not want to get married?”

She sighed deeply, her smile fading. "You ruined my life," she said softly. "Don’t talk to me."

"But what did I do?" I exclaimed, feeling confused and hurt.

Adepa burst into tears, the raw emotion catching me off guard. "My life was never the same after I let the baby go," she said, her voice trembling. "It wasn't the first time, but this time... it broke me." We sat in silence for a long while, the weight of her words hanging in the air.

I hesitated, then asked, "Do you still not want to have children or get pregnant?"

She wiped her eyes and sighed, "I want to, but I'm afraid. Afraid of being judged because of the kind of girl I was. Everyone looks at me and sees the 'party girl,' the one who never wanted to settle down. So I rejected people before they could reject me."

I looked at her, my heart heavy. "What about me? I don’t judge you."

She shook her head, "But your family and friends do. I’ve heard what they say."

"It doesn’t bother me, Adepa," I replied gently. "If you let down your walls, I won’t betray you. I promise."

Despite the protests from my family, we started dating again, and this time it led us to the altar. "When you marry a club girl, you marry nothing but a trophy," they warned. I was afraid, too, but my heart was set on Adepa. And here we are, still going strong.

There’s nothing better than marrying someone willing to grow with you. Adepa teaches me how to have fun, and I teach her how to stay steady, even when things get tough. When I married a 'club girl,' I didn’t marry a burden—I married the best wife ever.