Living Separate Lives

by Paulette Harper

  The more Tiffany thought about it, the more she began remembering how her last few broken relationships ended, which made her wonder if maybe her standards were too high. Maybe she needed to take a few things off her “wish list”.

  Tiffany did everything she could do to meet men, but to no avail; at her age, she was still single, and that wasn’t good. She went out to her share of social events, both at church and work, in hopes of meeting her Boaz. But even that didn’t work. She didn’t think that asking for certain qualities in a man was asking for too much. Her wish list only consisted of having a saved man—a really saved man (none of that I-got-baptized-when-I-was-five business), one who was employed, owned his own car, had his own home, and was ready to settle down. From all accounts, she thought Jeffrey was “the one” based on his profile; but over time, she realized that this “Mr. Right” was Mr. Wrong.

  The song on the car stereo changed, and the new tune jarred Tiffany back to the present. She looked at the clock, and saw the lateness of the hour. She decided to go inside and prepare for tomorrow’s church service. She rolled up her window, grabbed her keys out of the ignition, and reached for her purse to place her cell phone inside. She stepped out of her car and trotted up the walkway to her home. The minute she entered, she reached for the light switch next to the door, and walked toward the glass table that was located in the foyer.

  As she was about to take her shoes off, her cell phone rang. Jordan’s face popped up on the screen.

  “Great,” Tiffany said, hesitating to answer. “How did I know you were going to call?” Tiffany asked when she finally answered her friend’s call.

  “You knew I was going to call to see how things went. Give me all the details. Y’all still an item?”

  “Calm down, girl.” Tiffany continued the conversation on the way to her bedroom. When she entered her room, she flipped on the light switch and plopped herself on her bed. She placed the cell phone on the oak wood night stand next to her bed and placed the call on speakerphone to continue chatting with Jordan. She took off her shoes and sat Indian-style on her bed.

  “What are you doing?” Jordan asked.

  “I’m making myself comfortable. It’s been a long evening.” Tiffany exhaled and tried to compose herself. The last thing she needed was to hear Jordan say, “I told you so.”

  Tiffany quickly said, “Well, Jeffrey and I broke up. Now, go ahead and say I told you so.”

  “Tiffany, that’s the last thing in the world I’d say to you. I hear the pain in your voice. I’m so sorry. What happened?” Jordan asked with sympathy.

  “He wasn’t ready to commit. After all this time, he decided that he wasn’t ready to move forward with the relationship; and as we talked more, I realized that our spiritual values were so far apart.”

  “Oh, okay,” Jordan spoke gingerly. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay.” She paused and then continued. “I learned that when someone says they are saved, I need them to clarify that. People have many different definitions of the word. Even some saints in the church think they are saved, but they really are not.”

  A minute passed before Jordan spoke. “Yes, you are correct. You know what the Bible says about being unequally yoked. In Amos 3:3, it reads ‘How can two walk together unless they agree.’”

  Tiffany stood and walked around her bed to her closet. Once there, she pulled out her sky-blue, two-piece sleeper off its hanger, laid it on the edge of her bed, and reclaimed her position.

  “You know what, Jordan? For someone that hasn’t been saved long, you sure know how to spit out those scriptures. Yeah, the scriptures just roll off your tongue.” They both chuckled.

  “I’m sorry, Tiffany. I don’t mean to be preaching all the time. But you know all we have is the Word to depend on to get us through the rough times.”

  “I know. It’s cool. I’m the oldest and should be telling you a thing or two.” Even though Tiffany knew Jordan meant well, she couldn’t help but feel some inner contention over the fact that Jordan constantly threw scriptures in her face. Lately, it seemed as if it was becoming more difficult to talk to Jordan like Tiffany used to without Jordan appearing slightly judgmental in their conversation.

  Tiffany remained silent for a few minutes, trying to find a way to admit to Jordan that she was right. “Well, my friend, you were right. Maybe the online social networks are good for some; but for this girl, it doesn’t work. I’ve realized that over the past few years, I have been too consumed with trying to find Mr. Right instead of falling in love with Jesus. I put Jesus on the back burner in my quest to find someone to love. My priorities have been wrong and God has shown me that. And Jordan, don’t tell me, I already know—God is a jealous God.”

  “I truly believe that once you put God first, He’ll send you someone when you least expect it.” Jordan responded. “Waiting on God can seem hard, but it’s not. We just need to focus on what He wants and develop our relationship with Him.”

  After twenty minutes of sharing more about the Word, Tiffany ended the call. She stood up, grabbed her pajamas, and trotted to the bathroom to take a bath in her soaking tub. Once inside the bathroom, Tiffany pulled off her clothes and ran the water as hot as she could tolerate it; she poured some lavender-scented bubble bath in for some added pleasure. The soothing bath relaxed her body and mind as she thought about what she needed to say to the Lord that night in prayer.

  Twenty minutes later, she sauntered to her bedroom and got on her knees to pray out loud. “Dear Lord, please forgive me for putting others before you. I repent. I want to do Your will and fulfill Your purpose in my life. You will be my first love from this moment forward. In Jesus’ name, Amen.” Getting up from the floor, she pulled back the covers, slid in the bed, and went to sleep.

  Chapter 4

  “Stop preaching to me. I don’t want to hear it anymore. I’ve had enough of your self-righteousness.” The words continued to cut Jordan’s heart, words that she never heard before coming from the mouth of her husband, Eric. “You knew how I was before we got married.” His tone deepened with every word.

  Standing in front of the sink, Jordan was frozen and motionless in the middle of the kitchen. She held the dish towel in one hand and a plate in the other. She turned and faced Eric, whose eyes were cold and hard. The verbal blows kept coming. Her mouth opened wide, but no words could be formed when he uttered the deadly words, “I want a divorce.”

  Her eyes followed her husband of fifteen years as he opened the refrigerator door and grabbed another beer from the top shelf. He popped the beer open and took a swig. He turned and walked toward the red-oak kitchen table, pulled out a chair, and plopped himself down. A few seconds later, he reached for a coaster from its holder, placed it in front of him, and put the beer on it. He leaned back in his chair and continued his rant.

  The white plate that Jordan held slipped from her grip and landed on the hardwood floor, breaking into pieces. Without thinking, she immediately dropped to her knees and picked up some of the pieces with her bare hands. She began to pray over the situation and asked God for strength to get through it.

  Eric’s eyes widened, and immediately he jumped to his feet to assist her. The chair he was sitting in fell backwards and hit the wall. With his voice cracking, he said, “Let me do this. You go get the broom and dust pan.”

  When she looked up at Eric, her eyes were filled with tears. She let out a big sigh before she spoke. “Why are you hollering and talking to me in that tone? Don’t you dare talk to me like that.” Jordan spoke with confidence and boldness for the first time in years. “And what do you mean you want a divorce?”

  He continued staring down at the floor, gathering the fragments. “Jordan, will you get the broom and dust pan?” His once strong voice seemed to weaken. Jordan stood to her feet, still bewildered by what just happened. She couldn’t understand how, after being married for fifteen years, he could want to end their marriage. Walking cautiously through the kitchen and towards the laund
ry room, she tried desperately not to break down. She grabbed the broom and dust pan and prayed that God would prepare her for the storm that was brewing.

  When she returned to the kitchen, she stood in the door frame and handed him the broom and dust pan. He faced her, but continued with the cleanup. An awkward silence filled the air before she spoke.

  “We need to talk. We promised each other that the word “divorce” would never be mentioned in this house.” He hesitated to answer her, which only frustrated Jordan more. A flashback of her past reminded her of the old “Jordan”. Before she was saved, her sailor’s mouth got her into plenty of trouble. Sassy, confrontational, and bossy all rolled into one. She didn’t have any problem telling it like it “tis” or “cutting” a person if the situation called for it. She would fight anyone in a minute.

  Jordan, a short, curvy, caramel-skin toned woman in her forties, had only been saved for five years; but her old nature was tugging at her to come out. She had put up with his shortcomings after all these years and believed the Lord for his salvation, but that was soon to change.

  The clearing of Eric’s throat brought her back to the present. Eric returned to his seat and continued the conversation. “Jordan, I’m sorry for hollering at you. And yes, we need to talk.” He waved, motioning for her to join him at the table.

  Jordan retrieved a glass from the cabinet, opened up the refrigerator, and poured herself a glass of water. She approached the table and collapsed in the seat across from him. She took a sip of the water and set it on the table. Jordan leaned back in the chair, folded her arms, and looked directly at him. “I’m listening.”

  He leaned forward and licked his lips. “I want a divorce. Since you got saved, you ain’t the same. You are always trying to preach to me.”

  Jordan stared at Eric. “You want to divorce me because I share the scriptures with you and I’ve changed?”

  “No, you preach to me,” Eric interrupted. “All this Jesus stuff is making me uncomfortable and I’m not ready to change.”

  “There is more to this than what you’re saying. That ain’t no reason to get out of a marriage. Tell me the truth, Eric.” Jordan demanded.

  “I’m going to move out this weekend,” Eric said in a steady voice. He sat back in his chair and began rocking back and forth.

  Jordan changed positions in the chair. ”What? Why? Eric, this ain’t right.” Her voice began to break. “Please, Eric, don’t leave me.” She began to shake her head in denial. “Eric, where you moving to? After fifteen years you want out? No explanation? We’ve been married all this time, and all of a sudden you want out?”

  “I told you why I was leaving,” he said in a stern voice. Eric sat up, grabbed his beer can, and tossed it in the trash. “I’m going out for a minute. I’ll be back later.” He left Jordan at the table, sitting in bewilderment at what had just happened.

  She watched as Eric walked out of their home. She could hear the garage door opening and him starting his car. The sound of the garage door closing indicated that he was gone. Jordan sat at the table and said a prayer to God, asking Him to guide her and show her the truth. She knew within herself that Eric wasn’t being completely honest and truthful. There was something not adding up.

  Moments later, she broke down. She tried her hardest not to cry, but the flood of tears was too much for her to hold back. She cried for her husband who, for some reason unknown to her, wanted to end their marriage. And she cried for herself because of all the emotions she was feeling— rejection, abandonment, and confusion. She thought about her dream of a lasting marriage that now faced extinction. She just didn’t understand what in the world she was going to do next, but she knew God would cause this to work for her good. Now was the time she needed to use the scriptures and her faith to walk her through this terrain.

  Her mind began racing; she asked herself question after question. Had she missed something all these years? She was taught to submit to her husband and that’s what she believed she did. She thought she did everything right—she honored her husband, gave him as much sex as he wanted (even when she didn’t feel like it), cooked, took care of the kids and kept his home clean.

  She was unprepared and surprised by Eric’s behavior. She couldn’t believe that he was not the least bit concerned about her feelings or financial well-being. She realized that she had been living in the same house and sleeping in the same bed with someone who was planning on leaving all along. The thought of that sickened her. This was a curve that she didn’t expect; this was the conversation that no one in their right mind would ever want to have. This conversation just rocked her world.

  As the sobs lessened, she wiped the tears with the back of her hand. She stood up from the table and walked to the bathroom to clean her face. Ten minutes later, after gathering her composure, she walked out of the bathroom and entered their master bedroom to lie down on their king-size bed. Her rest was interrupted by the sound of a cell phone alert, which indicated that there was a text message coming through on Eric’s phone. In his haste to leave, he had inadvertently left his phone in the bedroom.

  Eric never leaves his phone, she thought. Something inside her kept tugging at her heart about his phone. Why am I so compelled to grab the cell phone from the nightstand and read the message? she pondered. Was God giving her a sign? Could the real reason why Eric wanted to leave her and end their marriage be revealed in that message? “Reading someone else’s message is unethical and shows distrust,” she said out loud. She lay across the bed, staring at the ceiling and pondering the questions that were nagging at her spirit. How could I explain that to Eric, my reading his messages? What if it’s an innocent message coming from his family or his friends? I will be in a hot mess, she thought. But she couldn’t resist the urge to look. Since Eric wasn’t going to tell her the truth, she decided to take matters into her hands and read the message.

  She rolled over to his side of the bed and grabbed the phone from off the nightstand. As she looked, the face of the screen read, “Where are you, babe? Can’t wait to pick up where we left off. Smooches!” In one swift moment, Jordan’s world came crashing down. Her worst fears had come upon her. Her husband had been with another woman, breaking the covenant of marriage that Jordan believed so strongly in. She immediately dropped the phone on the bed and sat silently. Feelings of shock, rage, sadness, and betrayal flooded her heart. And she was helpless to do anything about it. Wanting desperately to talk to someone about this news, she picked up the phone and called her friend. Perhaps it was time for someone to comfort her during her time of trouble.

  Chapter 5

  A week after their phone conversation, Kaylan and Candace decided to meet at Peet’s Coffee. Neither one of them knew how the other was going to look after all these years. Since their conversation, Kaylan had gotten Bryan’s “okay” about the girls’ weekend retreat that would be held at their home in Napa. Kaylan was excited about seeing her friends and even more excited about planning the event.

  Kaylan rolled her black Mercedes into the parking lot and found a spot right in front of the door. She turned off her ignition and unbuckled her seat belt. She sent Candace a text to see if she had arrived.

  “I’ve just pulled up. Right in front. Are you here?”

  Seconds later, a reply text came in from Candace. “Yes. I’m inside.” Kaylan climbed out of the SUV, grabbed her designer purse, and placed her cell phone inside. She reached for her sweater that was located on the back seat of the car and slid it on. She strolled into the coffeehouse where Candace met her at the door. They greeted one another with a hug that lasted for several minutes.

  When they finally released each other, they took a head-to-toe look at one another. Kaylan had decided to wear something casual. She wore a pair of Michael Kors jeans and a black, sleeveless, lace tunic. For her shoes, she’d decided on her black, four-inch stilettoes. She finished it off with her large, gold, hoop earrings and gold necklace.

  Candace, on the other hand, wore
jeans with a black, long-sleeve shirt that had the words “You Rock” spelled out on it with rhinestones. She wore black flats that appeared to be on their last days. Her hair was in a ponytail. She had a Red Cross body bag that accented her wardrobe. She appeared thinner since the last time they had seen each other. Life had not been good to Candace, and the evidence was written all over her face. She looked worried and tired.

  Once inside Peet’s, they walked toward the cashier to place their drink order.

  “Candace, how are you?” Kaylan asked. Her joy was palpable. “What would you like to drink? It’s on me.”

  Candace seemed relieved. “Thanks, Kaylan. I appreciate that.” They placed their drink order and walked to the waiting station while the barista made the drinks.

  “To answer your question,” Candace said, “I’m doing okay.” She gave Kaylan a pained smile. “I could be doing a whole lot better.” Minutes later, their names were called. They picked up their drinks and found an empty table in the front of the establishment next to a window. They slid into their seats and placed their drinks on the table. They made themselves comfortable while easing into their conversation.

  “Girl, it’s so good to see you,” Kaylan told her friend.

  Candace gave a dry smile. “Same here. I know you were shocked to hear my voice on the other end of the call.” She clasped her hand over her drink.

  Kaylan took a sip of her drink. “Yes, but I was quite glad to hear from you. Your phone call made me realize just how long it had been since we talked.”