Ndiri munhu anonyara kutaura nyaya dzemumba mangu, but this time I just need to get it off my chest. A few weeks ago, my wife went out with her friends kuDoek and Slay. As a supportive husband, I didn’t have a problem with that. But the next day, while I was cleaning her car, I found a small piece of paper under the seat. Rakaita kunge kabepa kepa corner ye kondomu— that shiny, foiled edge type. Ndakatarisa kaviri. I knew what it looked like. Ndakanyatsobata, hana yangu wakatanga kurova. I asked her nicely later that day, “Babe, what’s this?” She didn’t even flinch admin. Akangoti, “Ah, takangodya noodles tiri munzira, tarohwa nenzara. That’s just the wrapper from the noodles.” Honestly, I wanted to believe her. I really did. Asi ndakazongoti, noodles? In the backseat? Something just didn’t sit right with me. Since that day, hope hadzisi kubata. I keep asking myself, “What if she’s lying? What if something happened that day?” I’m not trying to be dramatic or accuse anyone without evidence — but this one small thing is eating me alive. Ndakagara ndichivimba nemukadzi wangu, but now this corner yebepa is messing with my peace of mind. Munopaonawo sei? *Ma noodles sahwira ❤️* *Mmmm sahwira, fear women 😂* * Nyaya via NewsChart