by Amy Watkins
“What? No! I promise. She never even went in your room.”
“Then what the fuck were her undies doing in my bed?”
“Babe, I don’t know. But I promise, swear to God, I did not fuck her.”
“Liar!” I yelled, then I hung up on him.
Umm hmm, I thought. Maybe she just planted her underwear in my room to cause strife. You know girls can be manipulative like that. He called back but I decided to let him go to voicemail. I put my phone on silent and tried to get some sleep. I couldn’t, though. I just tossed and turned, worried about what had already happened and what was to come. So, I listened to my messages. The first one was Ronda, “Girl, I’m on my way. Do I have to bring Gina?” Gina was Ronda’s nine-millimeter Beretta.
The second was from Terrell, “Angela, please pick up. Please don’t do this to our family…”
Delete
Third message was Terrell again, “Angela, I’m getting sick of this shit. You know I will never let you leave me. I will fight you on this. I’m not letting you divorce me…”
Delete.
Listening to messages was not helping the situation, so I deleted them all.
I sent a message to my boss. “Family emergency. Taking a few days off.”
Monday morning, I called Mrs. Chimes from human resources at the Virginia Beach Naval Medical Clinic. “I’ll take the job.” She was thrilled and so was I. I spent the rest of that day cleaning.
The next day, I went to go see a divorce lawyer. She quoted me a six-thousand-dollar retainer fee and let me know that the video was not enough evidence to get a divorce based on adultery. She also informed me that Terrell could still fight for alimony and he could request I pay his legal fees since he didn’t have a job. I cried at the lawyer’s office and then cried more after I got home. I had thirteen hundred dollars in my bank account. I couldn’t afford a lawyer to represent me, let alone afford one for Terrell.
The next day, I took another day off and went to my doctor’s office. I requested a full STD check. When she wanted to know why, I broke down crying and let her know that my soon to be ex-husband was a serial cheater. She was empathetic, referred me to a psychiatrist, and made me an appointment for later in the day. She sent me on my way once she completed the tests.
Talking to the psychiatrist was helpful. She offered to prescribe me an antidepressant which I thought would keep me stable while I got over the hump, so I filled it right away.
I called Ronda later that day and let her know about the lawyer. She reminded me that one of the ladies who goes to my church is a lawyer. Ronda met her at a church retreat we attended the year before. They had exchanged numbers because Ronda needed some legal advice for one of her cousins. Ronda gave me her number and I called that afternoon.
Mrs. Brown was quiet, conservative, and sweet. She answered the phone when I called and agreed to represent me after hearing my story. She only charged me a thousand dollars, which I gladly paid. She didn’t think my evidence was enough to file for adultery either, but she agreed to try. We made plans to meet the next day.
The house still felt so dirty to me, so I started cleaning again. I scrubbed the floors and the walls. I washed all the sheets. Any item of Terrell’s that I came across, I placed in a garbage bag and put it in his room in the basement.
I came across Terrell’s old cell phones and remembered that our old phones get new messages but I did not know his password. I quickly walked upstairs. The kids were sitting at the table in the kitchen doing their homework.
“Abigail, what’s the password to this phone?”
She looked up and smiled, “Zero, zero, zero, zero.”
“Thanks.” I walked past them, then up to my room and closed the door. I entered the password and the phone unlocked.
I read text after text between Terrell and Amber. Naked pictures being sent back and forth. Plans of them meeting while I was at work and while I was asleep. He left the house and went to her apartment several nights a week. There were pictures of them having sex. Others confessed their love for one another. Terrell told Amber that I did not want him anymore and Amber comforted him. She told him that he was a good man who was good in bed and that I was a fool for not wanting him. The day that Terrell drove fast from Ronda’s house was a day they had planned to meet. He was rushing home to meet her. The day that he made breakfast for me, he sent a picture of the food he had just prepared to prove to Amber he was a good husband. There was also a lot of talk of drugs. Talk of Amber selling and using them. Talk of Terrell using them. There were pictures of drugs on the phone. Weed, ecstasy, and heroine.
And that was not all. There were several messages between him and a different female. She was also plus sized but, unlike Amber, she was beautiful. They also exchanged nude pictures. She had a large tattoo of a tiger on her left thigh and another of tiger claws on her chest. They discussed the sexual relationship they had dating back to September. Terrell even invited her over to my house during Thanksgiving break on a day Amber could not make it.
“Maybe Terrell just likes big girls,” I thought. “Maybe I’m not enough woman for him.”
I continued to scroll back, and in June came across another nude pic, this woman was very thin, very pale, and had no hips or breasts. I giggled to myself, “Okay, so he likes big girls and skinny boys.” I wouldn’t have known it was a woman except she didn’t have a penis. Then I realized it could be a guy who tucked. There was no face and there were no texts back and forth—but the picture spoke for itself.
I told Ronda all about it and sent her the pictures just in case Terrell tried to delete them.
Ronda texted me after she viewed the messages:
Ewww, that’s disgusting. He got issues.
I met with Mrs. Brown and showed her everything I’d found. “Okay, so I think we’ve got a good case here,” she said. “I will file the paperwork immediately.”
That night, I took a shower and then took a long, hard look at myself in the mirror. I looked at my stretch marks, my hips, my breasts, my butt, my blemishes, and my scars. I wondered what was wrong with me. Nothing was wrong with me. I wasn’t perfect, but I was pretty freakin’ awesome.
I did all I could do as a wife. I cooked. I cleaned. I loved on him. I supported him. I fucked him. I gave him all I had to give. I had children for him. I worked for him. I sacrificed. I was a good woman, beautiful and smart. I had a good heart. My problem was that I put up with way too much shit and I lacked discernment.
“Oh God,” I prayed, “please bless me with discernment.”
My problem was I had a huge heart that was quick to give and forgive. It was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it was open to love. A curse because I was always getting hurt or taken advantage of.
I prayed, “God, why did you make me like this? Why did you make my heart like this? A huge heart that loves, gives, and forgives and yet I have no worthy husband to share it with.”
The next day, I felt strong enough to go back to work. Work distracted me. It kept my mind occupied. But at night when I had time to think, I was upset, worried, hurt, and stressed. It became a nightly obsession to look at his old phone and see who he was texting.
Janice texted him and told him off. She sent pages of texts letting him know how wrong he was and how disappointed she was in him.
Terrell sent a message to Amber telling her that he wanted to work it out with me. Amber texted him a few times trying to change his mind. He ignored her.
Then he texted his cousin asking for money. He spun some sob story about how I kicked him out of the house and he had nowhere to go. So, I texted his cousin and let her know the real story and informed her that the money I gave him was being spent on drugs and other women. She replied to Terrell:
I love you cuz, but I can’t help. I’ll pray for you.
Terrell was all alone. He was out on the street with no place to go. He slept at his friend Tiger’s house for a few days then he
left and bounced from one homeless shelter to the next, and all he had was his phone. Then I called our cell phone carrier and cut that shit off, too. Hey, I was paying for it.
Periodically, Terrell called me from an unknown number. Sometimes he was sweet and said things like, “Angela please, I am sorry for all I have done. If you take me back, I promise I’ll be a better man for you.” And I responded with things like, “I’ve heard all these promises before. You had chance after chance. No more. I am done.”
Other times he was threatening. “You are not leaving me. I’ll see to that. I’m fighting this. I will take my chances in court; and when I’m done, you will be owing me the house and alimony.” And I’d flatly respond, “Fine. Challenge me in court. But if you do, I will have no choice but to let my lawyer introduce all the evidence I have. All the videos and the pictures… Oh, and let’s not forget all the illegal drugs that you and Amber were doing and selling. That’s all on your phone. After we go to court, I will be forced to turn your cell phone over to the cops and they will prosecute you and your little girlfriend.”
I felt some relief when I got the test results back from my doctor saying that I was clean. But, in general, I had mixed feelings about the whole situation. On one hand, I felt free and happy. On the other, I was upset, scared, and hurt. Amber knew where I lived. She knew I had evidence that could lock her up. What if she or some of her drug dealing friends came after me or my children? I had to get out of that house, quick. I contacted a realtor who was also a friend from church and put my house on the market. It was perfect timing as I had a job waiting for me in a different city. I made plans to move over the summer after the kids got out of school. God had paved a way for me. All I had to do was walk along His path—and that is exactly what I did.
I neglected to call the twins over the next few weeks because I didn’t know what to say. I was stressed and I didn’t want them to see how hurt I was. Then one day Erica called, “Girl, Jordan told me what happened. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I responded.
“I tried to call Terrell but got no answer. I guess things are going to be the way they were before you came along.”
“What you mean by that?” I asked.
“Angela, before you, Terrell never came around. He never contributed any money. He never spent any time with Jordan and Jasmine. He never answered my calls—nothing. Once, when the twins were about two, I saw him driving around with his boys. I sped up to catch him and when I finally did, he acted like he didn’t even know me. Like he didn’t even know his kids. It wasn’t until you came around that he started coming around too.”
“Damn, he lied to me about that too. He said he had a good relationship with the twins before we met.”
While going through Terrell’s phone, I worried that I would find evidence of an affair between him and Erica. But I did not. However, everything prior to January 2016 had been erased from the phone. I figured Terrell had been cheating on me throughout our entire relationship and wondered if she was one of them.
“Erica,” I asked, “Did Terrell cheat on me with you?” My heart was pounding out of my chest as there was a moment of silence on the other end.
“I am so sorry, Angela. It was once and it was before I got to know you.”
I sat quietly as she continued with her story.
“I was so mad when you guys first got married. I felt like, ‘Why didn’t he try to work it out with me when I got pregnant?’ and then he decides to marry you? It was a mistake.”
I was hurt but I could feel the remorse in her words. “It’s okay. I forgive you.” And, to this day, I’ve never mentioned it to her again.
“Hold on, Boo. Jordan wants to talk to you.”
Jordan got on the phone and asked, “Hey, Mommy Miss Angela. I haven’t heard from you in a while. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Jordan. I’m just going through a lot right now.”
“Momma Angela, now that you and dad are divorced, are you still going to be my mom?”
Jordan tugged at my heart strings. I knew that the divorce would affect me and my kids, but I hadn’t thought about how much it would affect my stepkids. I loved them both so much and I did not want our relationship to change. “Jordan,” I said. “I will be your mom as long as you want me to.”
“So, I can still come over?”
I laughed, “Of course!”
“Good, I’m free this weekend!” Jordan wheedled.
“Me, too!” Jasmine yelled in the background. The twins’ enthusiasm about coming over made me feel good. Me and Terrell may never be together again, but I was still going to have an awesome relationship with my stepkids; and with Erica, too.
Erica got back on the phone, “Girl, I know you gonna need a break. How ‘bout we just be two moms and forget about Terrell. We can trade the kids off every weekend. One weekend they stay with you; the next they stay with me.”
“Deal!” I chortled. And that was the way it was. One weekend I had all five kids and the next I got a break and she had all five kids. Erica tried to call and get Terrell involved but he ignored her calls. Terrell stopped talking to his parents, as well. Janice told me he was mad at them for not taking his side. He didn’t even call Abigail on her birthday nor the twins on theirs. I grew to accept that he would not be involved in our children’s lives. I felt bad for our kids, but I was glad that I didn’t have to deal with him anymore. Besides, Erica, the kids, and I were enjoying our new set-up. I had an awesome time with the kids every other weekend and I got a breather every other weekend, something I hadn’t had since I became a mom several years ago. Life was good.
It had been a while since I was single. Initially, I was afraid; but shortly after I found it liberating. I focused on God, church, dance ministry, my family, my job, and my friends. Being able to focus on all of that instead of on a man who was impossible to please was a blessing. I got to do what I wanted, spend my money the way I wanted, and was blessed to raise my kids the way I saw fit. My family and friends were supportive. My stepkids were supportive. And my church family was super supportive. My pastor and his wife often called and checked on me. They prayed for me. They comforted me.
I changed my status on Facebook to separated and that’s when messages from old friends started flooding my inbox. When I was married to Terrell, I was not allowed to maintain friendships with men unless they were gay. So, I hadn’t talked to some of these guys in years. It was mostly small talk. “Hey, how are you? How’s the family?” they’d ask.
“Oh, we are good,” I’d reply. But I pretty much brushed off any advances. I really didn’t want to deal with anybody. I was too busy healing and working on my relationship with God.
Then, there was Jonathan, my ex-boyfriend from college. We dated for three years, which at that age is like a lifetime. I was completely in love with him. We broke up over some foolishness and, a few months after our breakup, he fathered a child with someone else. He married her and we lost touch. It shattered my world. Then after seven years of silence, we found each other on Facebook. We met up a few times and caught up with each other. No intercourse, just talking and a little making out. He was still married and they had just had their third child. However, he confessed that he was still in love with me and he knew that he had married the wrong girl. He said he’d debated leaving her for me, but I told him not to. After that, we became friends. We talked periodically. I told him all about my crazy life and he’d tell me about his. It was a great platonic relationship, but Terrell guilted me into ending our friendship after we got married. I hadn’t talked to him in five years. I admit, I was nervous the first time he called.
“Hey girl! How you doing?”
“I am so good. How are you? How’re the wife and kids?”
“Oh, you know, same old same old. I can’t complain.” Now, whenever Jonathan said he couldn’t complain, he really meant was that he was alive, which was a blessing in itself, but that life was a chall
enge.
“Mmm hmm,” I responded.
“I saw your status on Facebook. What happened?”
I told Jonathan all about Terrell’s cheating but I neglected to tell him about the abuse because he’d probably put a hit out on Terrell. Yeah, Jonathan was a little hood, too.
“I don’t understand what’s wrong with me.” I stated.
“Shiiiit, ain’t nothing wrong with you. You are awesome; beautiful and sexy. We were just young and dumb. I have never forgiven myself for letting you get away. Terrell is an idiot. He had you as his wife! He had the good life. He was literally the luckiest guy in the world. Why he fucked that shit up? I don’t know.”
It felt good to hear that from an ex.
“I kinda feel guilty about everything that’s happened to you,” he said. “If I had been a better man to you back in the day, you would never have had to deal with them triflin’ dudes you been dealin’ with. So, anyway, I may be heading down that way in a few weeks. What’s good?”
“Yeah, you should stop by.”
And he did. Three weeks later, Jonathan was at my house. When he walked through the door, he gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Hey girl, how you doing? You look great.”
He looked just as handsome as he did in college. He still had that smooth light brown skin. He was still tall and muscular. Still had those bright, hazel eyes. Still had that short curly hair.
“Don’t have sex with him, Angela. He’s not yours,” a little voice in my head commanded.
We started out innocent enough. Just talking. But then we started kissing and things were getting heated.
“I want you so bad,” Jonathan groaned.
“Mmm,” I moaned. Then I remembered he wasn’t mine. “Wait, we have to stop. I don’t want you to do something you are going to regret.”
“I’m not going to regret anything.” He started kissing on my neck. Oh my God, he felt so good and I hadn’t had sex in three months. I was so horny my clit was pulsating.