Why is a message as simple as, “give me a call when you get a chance” capable of sending you in a tailspin? Is it the messenger that makes your heart race? Is it the message itself? Or, is it your intuition kicking in, letting you know something isn’t quite right?
I honestly don’t know the answer to that. But on that day, as I was driving down the road, my heart started racing so fast and hard I could hear it roaring in my ears as those simple words came flashing across my screen, “give me a call when you get a chance.”
Quickly dialing her number, I took a few breaths, and tried not to let my friend hear my anxiety as she answered the phone.
“Hey girl, what’s up? I got your message.”
“Nothing much. I was wondering where you were today and if we could meet up and talk later?”
“I have court everywhere today and am not really sure what time I will get back on that end but I’m free now and don’t mind talking on the phone.”
“No, I really want to sit down and talk to you face to face about this.”
My heart began throbbing in my ears louder and faster. Was she serious? How in the heck was I supposed to wait until this evening when clearly something was wrong?
Getting nowhere with trying to convince her to talk to me as I drove to court, I hung up and immediately dialed my other friend. I was confident that before she built up the confidence to reach out to me there had been a meeting amongst “the big panty crew” as they tried to figure out what to do.
Determined to get to the bottom of this message I hung up and called my other friend. Before she could say hello I began, “Okay. I know that you know what is going and I do not want you to play games with me. Just tell me.”
“What are you talking about?” was her response, to which I simply replied that our other friend called and said she needed to talk to me.
The silence on the other end let me know that I was right in my assessment. There was in fact a group discussion and each of them knew what was going on. As she took a deep breath I grabbed my steering wheel to brace myself for what was coming and wondered if I really wanted to hear the answer to my question.
“Where are you?” She asked.
“Headed to court. I know that you know something and I want to know what is going on.”
“Okay. I am headed to court too, I will see you soon.”
“No, I do not want to wait until we are in court. I want to know now.”
After a big sigh, she took another deep breath and said, “All I know is that your husband has been talking to one of the teacher’s at your daughter’s school on a regular basis. Apparently they met in a bar and he has been meeting and talking to her for at least a month or two.”
Gripping the steering wheel even tighter I tried to stop the sound of that train running through my head.
Pulling over on the side of the road I sat quietly and listened as my friend let me know that this woman was aware that my marriage was rocky, I was contemplating leaving, and we were scheduled to get counseling. All in an effort to get in her pants, my husband had decided to open up in ways to this woman that I hadn’t yet opened up to my closest friends. Paralyzed by pain and feeling as though I had just been stabbed in the gut, all I could do was sit silently as she finished sharing what she knew.
After hanging up with her I immediately dialed my other friend and told her there was no need to meet this afternoon. I already knew what she wanted to tell me and proceeded to share what my other friend had told me. Expressing her sincerest apologies she went on to tell me about the money my husband spent wining and dining this woman all in an effort to impress this woman and get in her pants. I also learned that this woman had become so comfortable in her interactions with my husband that on one occasion while he was out to dinner with our daughter she approached him and had a conversation. And there were times that I would be sitting in our living room, less than 10 feet away from him, and they were carrying on a text conversation.
After I finished hearing the details and asking all of the questions I wanted to ask, I pulled back on the road and headed to court. Unfortunately, this was not the first time that I had learned about other women. And, I knew at that very moment, it would not be the last time, if I stayed. Riding down the road all I could think of was how my birthday had not passed too many months ago and my husband, the six figure salary man as his sister so often referred to him, said he couldn’t afford to buy the $125.00 bicycle that I wanted from Walmart. But, miraculously he found funds to wine and dine this woman and her friends in an effort to impress her. I thought about those times he was way too eager to run out and pick up the food for our family and realized that was his opportunity to chat with her. I also thought about how my daughter remarked one evening, “mom, something is up” as she shared with me that she had been watching my husband sit in our truck in the driveway, talking on the phone when he would return home. I thought about that morning I watched my husband pull up into our driveway at 4am, not driving from the route he would drive if he had just left the bar. Knowing something was up, I mistakenly began an argument with him only to be lied to and cursed out. This also happened to be the morning I rushed my teenage daughter to the emergency room because I could no longer ignore the fact that something was seriously wrong with her and there was nothing I could buy over the counter to make her feel better. As I told him I was headed to take my daughter to the hospital, his words, as he undressed and climbed in the bed, rang through my head, “it is about time you started acting like a real mom.”
Pulling up to the courthouse I gathered my thoughts, shifted my focus to my cases, and all of the things I needed to accomplish on that day. I had a career and kids to take care of. There was no time to deal with the gut wrenching pain that I felt. Grabbing my mask that allowed me to hide the pain, I put it on and proceeded with my day.
Stay tuned for The Confrontation…
Peace and Love, TRB