“Oh, heck to the naw!” I said out loud, grabbing my cell phone and calling Lee up.
“Hey, wife, I was just about to call you,” was Lee’s greeting.
Hearing his voice calmed the raging lion inside of me. “Oh really? For what?” My voice was snappy, so maybe his voice hadn’t completely calmed me.
“Just to see how your day is going. I know you work from home and all, but still, I know you have all your clients and projects and deadlines and stuff. I’m just making sure everything’s good with you. What time is Lee Jr.’s soccer game this evening?”
He sounded like such the family man. But on paper, the computer, FI, he was anything but the family man. So was this all an act he was giving me? Had our entire relationship been an act? Did marrying me just make sense? Was I just this woman he could live with, but not the woman he couldn’t live without?
“Musik, you still there?”
Lee’s inquiry jarred me out of my thoughts. “Hey, huh, what? Yeah, I’m here.”
“Well, what are you up to?”
“Nothing . . .” That was all I was going to say, but then decided to open the door to discuss what was really on my mind. “Just setting up this FI page. I finally decided to join the modern world and get into this social networking stuff.” I chuckled.
He matched my chuckle with a chuckle, only his sounded nervous.
“By the way, didn’t you get my friend request?” Patience never was a virtue of mine.
He paused way too long before he decided to say, “Yeah, I did.” I could tell he’d used the pause to debate whether to tell me the truth. That was a red flag for me.
“Oh, then why didn’t you accept the request?” I was so proud of myself for not sounding combative.
“I just haven’t gone into my friend requests and accepted them yet. I’ll do it when I get home.”
Liar! Liar! Liar! He was lying. He knew darn well that, had I not mentioned that friend request, there was no way he would have accepted it. Nothing burned me more than someone lying to me. There was another reason why people lied: because they didn’t want the person to know the truth. Lies hide the truth.
What do you have to hide from me, Lee Hampton? What do you have to hide?
When Lee got home that evening he did his normal routine. He got on the treadmill, took a shower, ate dinner, and then . . . and then that’s when his routine changed. He climbed in bed and turned on the television. Yes, that last thing was part of his schedule, but something was missing. It was that something that came in between eating and watching TV in bed. Tonight, for some odd reason, Lee didn’t hop on his computer.
Men are creatures of habit. The minute they change their routine is the minute yet another red flag shall rise.
“You tired?” I said, entering our bedroom after putting the kids to bed, to see Lee flipping through channels. I was very much surprised that he wasn’t on his computer.
“Uh, no, I’m good,” he said, his eyes glued to CNN.
“Good.” With my laptop in hand, I sat down next to him and powered it up. “Go ahead and accept my friend request so I can start building my number of friends.”
“Oh, wife, do I have to do it right now? I’m chillin’.”
“It’s just the click of a mouse. You’re good.” After all, he’d just said he was good.
I went to the FI homepage and then slid the laptop over to Lee. He sighed before sitting up and logging into his account. He acted like my asking him to accept my FI friend request was like asking him to move a mountain.
“Here you go. We’re friends now,” he said, and, if I’m not mistaken, there was a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
“Thanks, friend.” I smiled and then logged into my own FI account. Of course, once I was logged in I went straight to surfin’ Lee’s page. I could see everything now. Still, there was not even the slightest sign that he was married with kids. I scrolled through some of his past posts. He mentioned how he was going to visit his family, how he had gone somewhere with his mom, how he had had fun with his cousin, friend, or whoever, but not even a “Hey, my wife and I just enjoyed this great movie.” Not even a “My wife and I had a great time here or there.” Nothing.
I scrolled back as far as I could, looking for a post where he had mentioned me and his family just once—us on a family vacation or something. Still there was nothing. I felt like nothing. He made me feel like nothing. I felt erased.
“Aren’t you coming to bed, wife?”
I wanted him to stop calling me that. If he couldn’t fix his black, ashy fingers to type it, then he shouldn’t have fixed his lips to say it. No, his fingers aren’t really all that black and certainly not ashy, but dang it, I was mad!
I looked down at the clock on the computer. Two hours had easily passed. I couldn’t believe I’d spent all that time stalking his FI page. I’d found nothing—but not a good nothing, if you know what I mean. I realized that I was wasting my time; I wasn’t going to find myself in him.
I logged off and slammed the laptop closed. “Yeah, I’m coming to bed.” With that being said, I set the computer on the nightstand next to me, pulled the cover up to my neck, and bade him a “Good night.”
I could feel his confused eyes staring at my back as I lay there pondering whether I should say anything. He chose to let me be and instead got on his own laptop and logged on to the computer. I’m not sure how long I lay there hurt, fuming, and confused. I kept asking myself, was I being rational about all this? Was what my spouse put on FI really that serious? Was it enough to have me feeling like I had no place in his life after all these years? I asked both myself and God those questions. I didn’t have any answers. I’m sure God did, but He didn’t tell me that night; not before I fell off to sleep anyway.
The next morning everything was routine. Lee headed out to work and I got the kids off to school. After my morning prayer session I logged on to my computer to see if I had any e-mails from my clients. What I discovered was that my FI page was connected to my e-mail account. There were e-mails of FI notifications in my inbox. That, of course, prompted me to start thinking about the whole FI/Lee situation all over again, which led me to sign on FI and go peruse his FI page again.
I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I clicked on to his page and discovered that things I had just been able to view last night I could no longer view. What stood out the most was that his friends list was now on “privacy.” I was no longer privy to see exactly who all of his FI friends were.
“What the . . . But why?” Lee must have changed all his settings last night. There was no way this was a coincidence. There was no way he just happened to decide to change all his privacy settings the very same day he accepted my friend request. That was some BS if I ever smelled it, stepped it in, and whatever else.
This did more than just set off a red flag. The bull was in the ring ready to destroy and rip that stupid red flag to shreds. And if you haven’t figured it out by now, I was the bull—in a china shop. And before I tore up the whole place, I needed to confront Lee. I needed answers. And they better had be the right answers; otherwise, not only will the china shop be destroyed beyond repair, so will our marriage.
Chapter Five
Just Face It—It’s Over!
“So why all of a sudden do you have the privacy set on your FI page?” I blared into the phone at Lee. No, I couldn’t wait for him to get home from work to discuss this matter. I wouldn’t be able to think straight the rest of the day until I got to the bottom of things.
“Girl, what are you talking about?” He let out one of those stupid nervous chuckles again.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, that’s why you doing that stupid little laugh you do,” I quipped. “Just last night I was able to see who your friends on FI were, now all of a sudden it’s blocked out. Who you blockin’ it from, Lee? Huh? Me? Of course you are. Who are you trying to hide from me, Lee? I mean it’s obvious you’re hiding me from everybody else, but who e
xactly are you trying to hide from me?” I was on fire to say the least. Five alarm up in this piece!
“Wife, you are trippin’.” Lee tsked.
“Wife? Oh now I’m your wife, but let your FI page tell it, you ain’t even married. Why is it that you answered every other stupid question for your profile page—your favorite book, movie, sports, interest, hobbies, hometown, blah blah blah—but you skipped the question about your relationship status? Seriously, Lee, how did you think that was gonna make me feel?” That time I actually paused to give him time to answer the question.
“It’s my FI page so, to be honest with you, I wasn’t thinking about how it would make you feel. My FI page isn’t about you. It’s about me. That’s why it’s my FI page. You do what you want with yours and I’ll do what I want with mine. You been on FaceIt a hot minute and I’ve been on it almost two years and already you trying to regulate what I do on it. My FI page is my own personal sanctuary.”
“Boo, your prayer closet is your own personal sanctuary. FI is a public social network. The keyword is ‘public.’ That means everybody and they mama have the ability to know what’s going on with you and in your life. And it’s obvious that the life you live does not include me.”
“What do you mean it does not include you? Woman, I come home to you every night. I go to work every day so that I can provide for you and the kids. I don’t go hanging out with my friends and come home at all hours of the night. I’m your husband, and as your husband you ain’t never had no other woman calling you up talking trash about her being with your husband. You ain’t never had to call up no other women. I pay the bills, handle my business, so why are you tripping about what I did or didn’t put on a social networking page?”
“I care because I’m your wife. I’m your woman. Like D’Angelo said in his song, I’m your lady. I want you to be proud of that fact, proud enough where that’s the first thing you want to share with people. I want you to show me that I’m a big part of your life, but I can see clearly that I’m not a part of your life at all—not a part you care to tell people about. Why is that, Lee? Why is it you have a picture of every member of your family except for your wife and kids? Negro, you even took the time to take a picture of your car and put it on FI. Really?”
“What did I tell you about calling me the ‘N’ word?”
“Is that all you heard me say? Out of everything I just said to you, spilling my guts about how I feel, all you heard was the word ‘Negro.’ Wow!”
“Wow is right,” Lee countered. “I’m at work and you are calling me up about some FI stuff. I’m not about to have you mess my entire day up over this mess. Not doing it right now, Musik. When I get home, we’ll talk. Cool?”
“Funny how you have managed to not answer a single one of my questions.” I shook my head. “Sure, Lee, we can talk when you get home. That will give your sorry behind the entire day to get your lies together. Deuces . . . Negro.” I slammed down the phone, even angrier than I was before I picked up the phone.
I couldn’t believe how nonchalant he was acting about this entire thing. That’s when I had to ask myself whether Lee was being nonchalant or I was being overdramatic. I wanted to pick up the phone and call friends of mine who were married and ask them how they would feel if they were in my shoes. Would they be bothered by the fact that their husband failed to answer the question regarding his relationship status on his social networking profile page? Would they be bothered by the fact that he had pics posted of everybody he knew except for his wife? Would they be hurt by this?
Who gives a crap if another woman would or would not be hurt? I’m hurt. I’m hurting. For all these years I hoped that deep inside I meant just as much to Lee as he meant to me. I hoped that for all these years he was just as happy to claim me as his wife as I was to claim him as my husband. For all these years . . .
My thoughts trailed off because now I was lying to myself. Complete and utter lies were exactly what I was telling myself. When Lee and I first hooked up, it wasn’t love at first sight. I didn’t look at him and say, “That’s going to be the man I marry.” Neither did he look at me and say, “That is going to be the woman I marry.” We were both dating around, but for me, the moment did come when I knew he was the one. The moment did come when I picked up the phone and cut off every other guy I had been dating. I’d found what I was looking for and I knew it.
When it comes to Lee, he did the same thing with the women he’d been dating, but it wasn’t for the same reasons as mine.
I’d started spending the night at his place and hanging out there so much that I had to give my peoples his phone number in order to reach me. I didn’t have a cell phone yet back then. Knowing that sometimes when his phone rang it would be for me, I started answering it. Now that I think back, I realize Lee never gave me permission to answer his phone. I just assumed he’d be okay with it. I’d just assumed he’d already cut off the other women. I’d just assumed he’d chosen me over them. Had I assumed way too much? Had Lee really wanted me as his girl or had I just staked a claim and marked my territory? I chose him, but had he ever really chosen me?
“Nooo!” I yelled out, feeling like Carrie narrating a scene about her and Mr. Big from Sex and the City. What had I done? Had I forced Lee into a relationship with me? I became sick to my stomach at every thought that confirmed that could be the case. My thoughts eventually led up to our wedding. Had I done the ultimate no-no and forced Lee into a marriage?
I’d wanted the marriage so bad. He’d wanted the sex so bad. I declared a vow of celibacy nine years into our relationship. He couldn’t take not having sex after nine months. We got married.
“Jesus!” I was still crying out. Had my entire act of celibacy really been about God, or had it been about getting Lee to marry me?
If my life was a lie, I was the one who had orchestrated it. But how would I ever truly know if Lee’s feelings for me had been natural and genuine or dictated by me?
Tears streamed down my face as I tried to think back, look back for a sign, any sign, that what Lee and I had all of these years was real, but I couldn’t find not a one. Technically, he never officially asked me to be his girl. Technically, he never officially asked me to be his wife. But, worst of all, technically, he never officially asked me to be a part of his life.
I remained in a complete daze for the rest of the day, not getting a lick of work done. It was a surreal feeling. My entire relationship had been one-sided. I’d been madly in love with Lee, but that hadn’t been the case with him. Or maybe it had been. How would I ever truly know? Asking him wouldn’t suffice. He’d just tell me what I wanted to hear, or maybe it would be the truth. But actions speak louder than words anyway. Lining up Lee’s actions over the years, and now his actions with this whole FI thing, I had my answers. Had I given Lee the option and free will, there is a highly likely chance that he and I would have never gotten into an exclusive relationship in the first place. Let alone be married.
The life I was living wasn’t necessarily the one Lee was supposed to be living. I felt so stupid, and at first I felt guilty until I spurt out, “Why didn’t he just tell me then? Why didn’t he just man up and have the testicles to just say it instead of going along as if this was what he wanted?”
There, I’d managed to turn the tables and get fired up at Lee again. It wasn’t like I was trying to shift blame. I’d been 100 percent real with Lee throughout our entire relationship. My feelings, what I wanted, they’d all been genuine. But my gut, my woman’s intuition, told me that Lee had not been. And it took a simple FI profile to bring the situation to light.
Speaking of FI, I decided to get on it. If Lee wanted to eliminate me from his life, I’d eliminate him from mine. I’d let him see how it felt not to be included in my virtual world.
I grabbed the first laptop at my fingertips, which happened to be Lee’s, and opened it up to log on to my account so that I could defriend him. Lo and behold, it was already logged on to FI.
�
��Lee must have forgotten to sign off last night,” I said to myself. Just as my finger was about to exit out of his account and sign into mine, a light bulb went off in my head. I was in his account. I was actually inside Lee’s FI account. Whatever it was he had been trying to hide from me . . . hot dog, I was about to find it.
The first thing I did was check out his friends list. It was eighty percent women who were not related to him, five percent men who were not related to him, and the other fifteen percent was family.
Now I remembered once upon a time Lee telling me that he was getting on FI to reconnect and keep up with old friends. You mean to tell me all his friends are women? Can’t be. I’d been in his life fifteen years and surely I would have known or even heard of some of these so-called friends. What really ticked me off was when I did a second run through of the list and recognized some of the names. A couple were the names of women he’d dated before. Now why in the world would a married man want to reconnect and keep up with an ex? Why would any married person want to do that? They were an ex for a reason and it should stay that way. The past doesn’t mix with the present and can sure enough mess up the future if you hang on to it long enough.
Next, I went through his photo album to look at who “liked” the photos Lee had posted or who had made comments. I ended up having to grab a pen and paper to keep a tally. There were about ten women who always seemed to comment or like every little thing Lee posted. They were virtual groupies. Yuck!
I took that list and began visiting each of their pages to find out a little bit about them. It appeared as though Lee was showing them the same kind of love they’d shown him. Every time they took a picture of themselves in the bathroom and posted it, Lee was there to “like” and comment on it. The only picture he should have been liking of a woman posing was his wife—me.
Next I went to see the type of people and things Lee was subscribing to. Again, my heart did flips when I saw that he was subscribed to strippers or women who did nothing but post provocative pictures of themselves or post sexually charged comments.
A Woman's Revenge Page 18