It Won't Prosper: Parable On Infidelity In Marriage

by Genevieve Woods

  “No such a thing, sweetie, I will be right back. I ain’t scared of nobody.” Mrs. Gwen stares Monica down as she walks away. I take my seat to bring this meeting to a close.

  “Monica, this affair is now over. We have some things we need to go over, considering, for the past twelve months, I have paid your rent, utilities, and given you a spending allowance. In the interest of full disclosure, your lease is paid up until the end of its term, which gives you three more months, then you are on your own. I called Memphis Light Gas & Water, and you have an eight-hundred-dollar credit for your utilities that should last for the next three months as well. The monthly spending allowance ends, effective immediately, but I do have this check for one thousand dollars, which is half of what I give you monthly.” I pull the check out of my wallet and slide it next to her plate on the table. “I think this package is sufficient for the time you have given me in this affair—” Mrs. Gwen breaks my dialogue as she returns with my to-go bag, and a sweet tea to go.

  “Here you go, sweetie. Do you need anything else?” I reach into my wallet and give her a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill as I notice Monica’s eyes have turned crimson.

  “Sweetie, this is too much. I can’t take it.”

  “It’s not too much, Mrs. Gwen, for the rude behavior you have endured from my lunch partner.” Mrs. Gwen turns from a sweet ole lady gushing at me to a sinister vixen as she looks at Monica, who has lowered her gaze to her plate of, now, only fries and coleslaw.

  “Well, I guess you right, have a blessed day sweetie.” I watch Gwen scurry off and take my seat to continue discharging my ex-lover.

  “Monica, do not call my office, and know that I have changed my cell phone number already. I suggest you use the next three months to try to put together a plan not to end up in this same situation in the future.” She looks up at me with tears streaming down her face.

  “What situation is that, Seth? A situation where I’ve been lied to, used, and now just tossed to the side?”

  “Monica, don’t play the victim here. You knew I was married. I never told you I was leaving my wife. I never told you I was unhappy with my home life.”

  “Are you kidding me? Every time you came over and screwed me said that very thing. I have never been with a married man before; you knew that. I’m not some common piece on the side.”

  “Monica, I know that, and that is why I have done all that I’ve done for you. A common piece would have gotten a tenth of what I provided for you. However, it doesn’t negate the fact that I love my wife, and we are over. Use this time to get therapy. If you need to send the therapy bill to my office, that is fine, but we are over.”

  Being done with the affair and the conversation, I rise and take my lunch with me and exit the restaurant, praying Monica accepts the fate of our relationship.

  Episode Five

  Monica

  Car Note: $650.00

  Car Insurance $145.00

  Xfinity $105

  Credit Cards$300

  Oak Heaven: $2500

  ME AND MOMMA HOMELESS

  I throw my tablet on the coffee table as I pace back and forth in my living room. I am numb by the amount of anger that is coursing through my veins. Seth knows good and well I can’t afford to be cut off like this. I mean, I didn’t ask him to start helping me, he offered. When we began seeing each other, Seth saw how I was struggling to try to care for my mother, who is an Alzheimer patient at Oak Heaven, all while trying to keep a roof over my head. He became the Good Samaritan, telling me all those lies of how he wanted to take care of me and make my life stress free. He said to me that all I had to do was concentrate on keeping him satisfied. I have kept my end of the deal, and now he just cuts me off.

  “Ugh! He. Makes. Me. Sick.” I am now beyond frustrated and throw my tablet across the room. I rub my hand through my short hair as I rise off of my sofa. Humph, another thing Seth the supporter purchased. It’s a massive, beautiful, horseshoe-shaped brown thing that nearly takes up my entire living area. A smile tries to cross my face as images of the two of us entangled together in passion on it cross my mind. I quickly push that treacherous thought away. Why am I thinking about being with him in that way? He has destroyed my life. Besides the apartment I can’t afford, along with Mom’s bills, I won’t be able to house this sofa or much else in this place I love calling home. Nor will I be able to keep my Camry. I back up against my wall and rest my back and head on it, needing something solid to support me. I have to think of a plan.

  How can I take care of mother?

  How can I take care of myself?

  Before my mind can drift off completely, my Bluetooth avatar says, “Incoming call.” I say, “Answer.”

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, girl what’s up?” It’s Faye, my best friend.

  “Nothing much,” I say in a whisper. Faye responds with alarm in hers.

  “What’s wrong? Did something happen to Momma Dear?”

  “No, Faye, Mom is okay. I just have a lot on my mind.”

  “Monica, tell me what’s wrong! Now!”

  “Seth dumped me,” I cry out as I slide down the wall to the floor.

  “He dumped you? I’m coming over.” With that, she ends our call, and I take down my strong veneer and crumble on the carpet like the heap of a mess I am. I can’t believe he could do me this way.

  Episode Six

  Monica

  The ringing of my doorbell jolts me out of my crying frenzy. I pick up my phone and see that I have been crying for half an hour. Faye has already made it here. I drag my heavy limbs off the floor trying to slow my breathing before I am face-to-face with my best friend. I turn the latch and pull the knob, and my overbearing best friend charges through the door slamming it behind her. She takes one look at me and points to my sofa and says,

  “Sit! Talk!” The last two things on Earth I want to do.

  “There is nothing to say, Faye. He dumped me, gave me a thousand dollars, and said I had three months to bounce.”

  Faye crosses her arms across her full breasts; she is a full-size woman. Five-nine, one-eighty-five pounds, and long curly hair that she wears naturally picked out. She has a beautiful cocoa complexion and could pass for a Queen Latifah’s double. She is also as hood as they come.

  “So, he tells you it’s over, gives you a tip like you are a woman of the night, and you up in here crying about it?”

  I’m not sure if that is rhetorical.

  “Don’t you have to take care of momma dear?” I nod my head yes.

  “Didn’t he say he was gonna help you?” I nod my head yes.

  “Did you keep his butt satisfied and cover for him?” I nod my head yes.

  “So, why are you the one crying?”

  “Because he ended it.” That is the wrong answer because as I am trying to wipe the tears from my eyes, Faye yanks both my wrists and looks me squarely in my eyes.

  “Oh no! No! NO! He is not getting rid of you that easy. You gave him the goodies and played your role. He is not gonna leave you high and dry. We gonna fix him and his homely wife.”

  “Faye, he doesn’t want me. I’m not about to beg.” Faye raises her eyebrow at me.

  “Honey, no one said anything about you begging, but you are about to be paid. Listen up. This is what you gonna do to make sure you keep all of this.” Faye gestures her hands to my living area like it’s a Price is Right showcase. Knowing where we both come from it is. As I listen to her plan, the melancholy mood I was experiencing changes slowly to anger and revenge. By the time Faye leaves, I know my address will not be changing nor will my mother suffer, but the Owens will. I believe the scripture in the Bible Janine believes so deeply in says; Hell has no fury like a woman scorned. I. AM. THAT. WOMAN.

  Episode Seven

  Janine

  It has been two weeks since the reveal of Seth’s infidelity, and we are making steps in the right direction to repairing the trust. Seth has been more than attentive and has catered to me in ways he ne
ver has before. We have attended two counseling sessions together with Pastor Caine and with Dr. Whitney at our church, Liberty Fellowship. We have had sessions alone to deal with the healing of our personal scars. Last night, we decided we would begin trying for a baby. I’m ready to be a mommy and bringing new life into this relationship will make our bond stronger.

  Today, we are standing together with one set of our hands entwined together, and the other lifted in praise to Jesus, as the Praise and Worship Ministry sing “This is Holy Ground.” I was feeling the presence of the Lord and could feel the pressure of life lift off of me—until I noticed this tall, light complexioned woman peeking around to catch glimpses of us. I try to shake it off and tune into the service again. I look up at Seth to see if he notices her, but his eyes are hidden from me. I am not sure when she sat in our row, but she is staring at me. For what, I wonder. Oh my God! I jerk my hand out of Seth’s and sit down as Pastor Caine comes in loaded with baggage all over him. I’m sure he has some great demonstration, but I don’t think I can sit here and listen to it. My husband’s mistress is on this very row, at my church. Was it not enough that she had my husband, but she shows up in the house of the Lord? Seth looks down at me with a scrunched up brow and a questioning glare. I dart my eyes toward his harlot’s direction. He turns in that direction, and immediately his flesh becomes two shades lighter, and he looks like he is going to be sick.

  Seth

  Jesus Christ of Nazareth, what is Monica doing here? I barely survived Janine finding out about us, now this. I sit next to my wife and wrap an arm around her. I whisper in her ear. I pray she believes I’m sincere.

  “Baby, I love you. I ended it with Monica. I don’t know why she is here. This is the Devil; she is baggage just like Pastor is speaking about today. Don’t let her get to you. After the service, I will handle it.”

  Janine doesn’t say anything, but her stiff bearing does soften, and she allows me to hold her hand. I hold it for the duration of the service, all the while regretting that I may not be able to get rid my personal baggage named Monica.

  After the service, Janine and I speak to our friends of the congregation. Liberty Fellowship Church is filled with beautiful people like Mother Ellen Adams and my mother, Paisley Owens. I grab my wife’s hand to look for mom until Monica's appearance stops us. I thought she had left during the altar call. I prayed that the message Pastor delivered converted her, and she went home. My prayer goes unanswered. I feel Janine trying to pull away from me, but I grip her hand tighter. I ended things with Monica, so there is nothing for me to hide.

  “Aren’t you going to say hello?” Monica has brought her hood persona. Jesus, help me.

  “Hello, Monica, what are you doing here?”

  “I’m at church. I came to see you since you are not answering my calls.”

  “I’m not answering your calls because I told you it was over. You are mistaken if you think this is a better place to speak to me.”

  “Look, Seth, I knew you would be here, trying to get back in the good graces of your wife.” She throws a head nod toward Janine. I feel Janine squeeze my hand. I rub it to soothe my wife. Monica is not worth Janine losing her dignity over. She is just an unfortunate mistake I’ve made.

  “So, here it is!” Monica exclaims causing people to stop and stare in our direction. I frown at her, telling her to calm down and get on with it.

  “You are going to have to keep paying my rent, my car notes, and my monthly spending allowance. I’m pregnant.”

  Monica drops that baggage on my wife and me and walks away. Before I can utter a word, my mother approaches us.

  “There they are. Seth and Janine, come over here and meet Mrs. Ellen’s son, Benjamin, and his fiancée, Camille.”

  Episode Eight

  Janine

  Never in my life have I been so happy to see my mother-in-law. I take this opportunity to break away from Seth, who has my hand in a death grip. I speak as quickly and nicely as I can to Ms. Paisley, and Mother Adams and her family. Usually, I would talk longer to new members and try to get the fiancée to join us in the children’s ministry as a volunteer, but today, I want to flee this scene. I am almost sprinting with the speed of my steps; I can’t get to our car fast enough. I throw up my hand in greeting as the lingering members call out my name in greeting. I hate being rude, but why don’t people just go home after church? When Seth’s black BMW is in sight, I reach into my purse and get out the key fob unlock, and start it. It’s September, but I’m sweating like it’s the Fourth of July. When I get into the car, I exhale.

  “You are going to have to keep paying my rent, my car notes, and my monthly spending allowance. I’m pregnant.” Monica’s words are on auto-repeat in my head—I can’t turn them off, I can’t change the channel. Lord, help me. Today is the worst day of my life.

  Seeing her in the pictures with Seth did not cause me this amount of anxiety. My chest is tightening, my throat is closing, I hear the sound of my heart booming in my ears. Monica’s voice is taunting my mind. “You are going to have to keep paying my rent, my car notes, and my monthly spending allowance. I’m pregnant.”

  The pictures didn’t do her justice. She is physically a beautiful woman and was well put together in designer clothes, shoes, and handbag that I can only assume my husband provided.

  What am I going to do? Is she pregnant? How did I not know Seth was taking care of her? What type of fool am I? I am pulled from my thoughts as Seth opens the back car door and hangs his suit jacket on the hanger. I’m sure buying himself more time before having to face me with more lies. I close my eyes and take deep calming breaths. I bend over to allow my blood flow to balance. I will not have an anxiety attack like some helpless victim. Just as I gain my composure, he opens the driver’s door and gets into the car. I don’t see or hear him close the door before he begins.

  “Baby, I’m so sorry.” My husband has become the most sorrowful man in Memphis, TN. I look at his pitiful expression, but I’m sick of the apologies already.

  “Sorry for what, Seth? Sorry for the affair, or not telling me you were caring for her like she was your family?” I practically slap my forehead with the palm of my hand as it dawns on me. “Wait, if she is pregnant and will give you your first child, she is family. Is that what you are sorry about, Seth?” I see the tears stream down his face, but I will not fall so quickly this time. Nor will I continue this conversation, not that he is responding to me, he is just staring at me with a tear-stained face, on Holy Ground.

  “Seth, don’t answer that. Please just drive us home.”

  Seth

  I don’t know how to express to Janine the guilt that I feel for hurting her. If Monica is pregnant with my child, then I have robbed my wife of sharing my first born with me. This woman saved herself until marriage for me. We put off having kids because of my career and the constant travel I did in the past for The Paper Mill. Now that she has forgiven me, I hoped to grant her request of trying for a baby. The fact that Monica has possibly trapped me might cause me to lose my wife. My reverie is broken when the waitress at Rafferty’s calls my name for our takeout. Janine demanded I take her home, but we had planned to go to mom’s for dinner, so there isn’t anything prepared at home. She gave me an affirmative nod when I asked if I could stop for takeout. I pray this isn’t the last meal of our marriage.

  I pull into our garage, and before I can cut off the engine, Janine is out of the car. I disarm the home for her on the phone app to our security system; she is moving so fast I don’t think she will stop to enter her code. I get out and decide to set the table for our lunch and sit to wait for my wife.

  It is fifteen minutes later before she joins me in silence as she eats. I can’t take it.

  “Janine, sweetheart, say something to me, please.” She looks at me with empty eyes, and I see I’m losing her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were taking care of her?” I let out a sigh of exasperation.

  “It was ending, so it
was just part of my mistake that I was putting behind me.”

  “Why were you taking care of her? I know she worked at The Paper Mill when you started seeing her. Did you have her quit so Robert wouldn’t find out, and you provided for her?” I can’t believe my wife thinks I’m this much of a douche. I throw down my dinner napkin offended.

  “No, absolutely not, Janine. Monica was a temporary for the executive staff. This entire sordid affair started because she was crying one day when I returned from lunch. Monica told me how her position was ending with us because of a hiring freeze and temporaries being let go. I listened to her cry about how her mother had Alzheimer’s, and she paid for her living facility and was barely getting by. I wrote her a check that day out of benevolence and called the staffing agency to make sure she had an excellent reference from me so that she would have no issues being placed on another assignment. I gave her my business card to let me know she was ok. She contacted me to thank me. We had lunch, and I didn’t stay faithful to you, Janine." I attempt to reach for her hand under the table, but she pulls away. I drop my head in defeat and continue. "I’m sorry for that. Monica was barely breaking even with bills; I saw that, and I suppose out of guilt for using her I threw money at her.” I vomit my full confession out with my head hung low. I’m a complete fraud, and no real man should be telling his wife this crap. But I have to own it. I look up at Janine, who is looking like a woman of stone. Then, out of nowhere, I feel a blow to my face and a sting to my lips.

  My sweet submissive wife has just slapped me across the face and punched me in the mouth.

  Episode Nine

  Janine

  Before I could stop myself, I hauled off and slapped Seth across his face; then I hit him in the mouth with my fist. It’s not until I see the blood oozing from his lips, which are swelling, that I come to myself. I am shocked as I wait for his reaction. He looks just as stunned as I am. I have never hit anyone in my life. But listening to my husband recount his love affair with his woman was too much. But still, I hate that I reacted with violence.