Yvonne says, “Let me know if I can do anything. I’ll keep the girls for you whenever.”
“And if you need a birthing coach, I’m available,” adds Taylor.
“Thank you both.”
“Is that the reason you’re here in Jamaica with us and not your husband?” Taylor asks.
“Well . . . there’s a little more to it than that.”
“We’re all ears,” says Yvonne.
Tearfully, I share the studio incident and all of the other indications that I have of Troy’s infidelity. Taylor and Yvonne sit there staring at me in utter disbelief. I guess they have good reason for that. I am very good at smiling when I should be crying.
When I’m done, no one speaks for a moment. Taylor has a tear in the corner of her eye. I must be really emotional, or maybe she is. Yvonne just keeps shaking her head. I’m sure she’s thinking of how she feels about Luke’s wandering eye.
Yvonne finally asks, “Have you confronted him?”
“Yes. On Christmas Eve. He said that he’s not using drugs.”
Taylor asks, “And what about the girl?”
“I didn’t really go into that.”
“Why not?” questions Taylor.
I respond honestly, “I guess I don’t really want to know the answer.”
Yvonne nods with understanding. She asks, “Have you prayed about it?”
“Yes, but I haven’t heard from the Lord.”
She continues, “Well, I can’t really tell you what to do, but let’s get in agreement in prayer.”
It seems that praying with one another is becoming a bit of a habit with us, and that is a good thing. I feel myself releasing some of this burden. I’ve been carrying this alone for so long that I didn’t know how much it was crushing my spirit. When I join hands with Taylor and Yvonne, I can feel them both squeeze gently, imparting their strength where mine is nearly gone.
Yvonne prays, “Jesus, we come to You in Your name, praying for Pam’s husband, Troy. We know that when two are gathered together in Your name, You are in the midst. We pray first of all for Troy’s salvation. We ask that You prick his heart and cause him to repent of his sins. Lord, help him to pay attention to his wife and his family. Take the taste for alcohol away and let him use his talents to glorify You. Jesus, we pray for Pam, that she is healthy and stress-free during this pregnancy. Lord, we pray for peace and for the power of Your precious Holy Spirit. In Your name we pray. Amen.”
“Thank you, Yvonne. I needed to hear that.”
Yvonne replies, “You know, Pam, I just want to add that you probably do want to confront Troy if you think he’s being unfaithful.”
Taylor adds, “I agree.”
Yvonne continues, “I’d had feelings about Luke cheating for years, and I never did or said anything. If I’d been honest with myself, maybe Luke would have never went after Taylor.”
I nod my head, listening intently to Yvonne’s advice. She knows better than anyone what infidelity can do to a marriage. Taylor looks a bit uncomfortable with the reference to her and Luke. I’m sure that she just wants to forget the whole thing, but it did happen. Yvonne’s demeanor is inspiring. She may be torn up on the inside about her husband, but she is still able to give sound advice.
I try to lighten the somber mood. “Well, ladies, I think we have done enough bonding for one hundred women. Is anyone up for some fun?”
Taylor smiles. “I saw a brochure in the lobby for snorkeling. It looks like fun.”
“Sounds good to me,” says Yvonne.
I declare excitedly, “Well, it’s settled, then. For the rest of this trip we are going to forget our cares and have a blast.”
Taylor giggles, and Yvonne responds, “Girlfriend, I couldn’t agree with you more.”
Yvonne
I
know trouble is brewing inside my house, and I don’t want to go in. I’m still feeling happy from my little adventure in Jamaica, and Luke is sure to ruin that feeling. I guess the uncertainty is showing all over my face, because Pam asks me if she should come in with me. I want to say yes, but, of course, I tell her no. There’s no need for her to witness one of Luke’s tantrums.
I pray under my breath as I open the door.
Lord, give me strength. Allow me to prevail over the enemy who is working through my husband. Guide my tongue, Lord, and let me say the right words to this man.
I drag my suitcases into the living room, and I don’t see Luke anywhere around. He must be upstairs. I hang my coat in the closet and sit down on my living room sofa. I don’t think a hundred horses can drag me up those stairs. If Luke wants a confrontation, he’s going to have to come to me.
No sooner than I can exhale, I hear his loud, heavy steps lumbering down the staircase. It sounds like he’s taking more than one step at a time, which worries me a bit. He seems too anxious.
When he gets downstairs, he just stands in front of me, with his hands on his hips. I don’t know if he wants me to start talking, but I haven’t got anything to say to him really. Taylor told me how he seduced her and lied to her. She said that she believed I didn’t love him because I allowed him to spend the weekends with her. Luke had the nerve to tell her that I knew of their affair. I believe her because she has nothing to gain by lying to me.
“Where have you been all week?”
Out of habit, I start to answer him, but then I realize that I no longer respect this man as my husband. I don’t acknowledge his headship. My lips part, but no sound comes out. Luke is furious, but I am unafraid.
“Are you going to answer me? I see that you have suitcases. Were you away with another man?”
“Luke, why do you even think you have the right to ask?”
“I am your husband. You are mine. Therefore, I have the right to ask you anything I want.”
“Yeah, you can still call yourself my husband, but you haven’t been a husband to me in years.”
“Who do you think takes care of you, Yvonne? You have never worked. Who has given you all of these things you have?” He waves his arms around frantically.
I feel my own anger rising. “Take them! Take all of this mess and give me a man who loves me. One who don’t seduce young girls in the church and then treat them like trash.”
He stares at me. “Oh, I see. You been talking to that little tramp, Taylor. Well, I don’t know what she has you believing, but she seduced me.”
“Luke, save it for the Lord.” I wave my hand. “He’s the one that’s got to judge you. I don’t even care about this anymore.”
“So are you saying you want a divorce?”
Without hesitation I respond, “Yes. I absolutely do.”
I expect Luke to be angry. In fact, I even expect for him to slap or punch me, like he did in those early days of our marriage. He confuses me when he walks away without a word. He goes into the kitchen, and I hear him pacing back and forth muttering to himself. I guess the worst. I look around frantically for something to defend myself, and not finding anything, I dash for the door.
Luke pounces on me before I can even get off the porch. He’s dragging me by my hair back into the living room. I’m too frightened to scream, and my wild punches and kicks are not affecting Luke at all. My head and neck hurt from his tugging. He throws me across the room, and I slam into my china cabinet. I can feel blood trickling onto my face.
I touch my head to feel for the wound, and there’s blood everywhere. Next thing I know, Luke is on top of me punching me in my face. I pray quickly,
“
Lord, deliver me . . . Lord, save me . . . Lord, forgive me of my sins.”
Luke laughs as he moves from punching my face to my midsection. The pain is unbearable. I close my eyes. Let him kill me.
Lord, take me
.
“Jesus,” I say.
Luke has his fist in the air, ready to strike me again.
“Jesus.”
This time I push the Lord’s name out as loudly as I can. Luke starts laughing nervously, and slowly he lowers his arm. He’s covered with my blood.
“You better call on Him. ’Cause He’s all you got now.”
I’m lying on the floor as Luke rushes around the house like a lunatic. Soon I see him in fresh clothes, but he forgot to wash his face.
Luke looks back at me, like maybe he’s sorry, but something changes his mind. I hear his car starting and the screech of the tires as he pulls off.
My entire body feels like it’s on fire, but I have to get to the phone. It’s only five feet away, but it feels like a canyon. I can’t stand, so I crawl on my belly. I scoot a few inches at a time and lunge for the phone when it’s in my reach.
There is no strength at all in my arm, but somehow I manage to make the phone fall in my direction. I am shocked at my bloody, shaking fingers and dial 911. When the operator comes on, I try to speak, but a sound comes out of my body that sounds like a wounded creature.
After a few minutes I hear sirens coming down my street. I lie back and close my eyes again. Too tired to greet the paramedics. I just want to rest. I feel so tired . . .
Taylor
I
’ve been walking around on edge. That idiot Luke went and attacked Yvonne, and now I feel like he might be coming after me and my son. The police haven’t been able to locate him, and that thoroughly pisses me off. What am I paying taxes for anyway if I’m not being protected? I’ve never been more scared in my life.
I tried to get a restraining order, but they wouldn’t grant it because of insufficient evidence. Besides, a restraining order won’t do any good if Luke doesn’t know about it. Every time I open my apartment door, I’ve got my Mace in one hand.
When Pam called me with the news, I packed about two weeks of clothing for my son and asked Pam to drop him off at my aunt’s house. Luke doesn’t know my aunt or where she lives. Maybe I should go stay over there too, but my aunt’s lectures are unbearable. She’s constantly reminding me of reaping what I’m sowing and whatnot. I mean, really, nobody wants to hear that all the time.
With much insistence on Pam’s part, I decide to go with her to the hospital. Part of me is curious to see if Luke has truly turned into a maniac. Honestly, I never pictured Luke being fierce. He seems like the type that would break all your car windows out or cut up your clothes.
Me and Pam walk onto the hospital floor, and, of course, all of the prayer warriors from New Faith are here. They’re milling around in front of Yvonne’s room. Some of them even look like they’re praying.
They all stop in their tracks when they see me. I don’t care, though. I’m used to them whispering about me when I walk by; shaking their heads and sucking their yellow teeth.
One of the women grabs Pam by the arm and whispers something in her ear. Pam’s expression turns real ugly, and she rolls her eyes. I signal her with my eyes that she doesn’t even have to waste her energy on these ignorant women. I don’t. I’m here for one reason only—to see Yvonne.
As soon as I lay eyes on the distorted figure lying on the hospital bed, tears start pouring out of my eyes. How could anyone in his or her right mind do something like this? Her face is swollen so badly that she’s unrecognizable. There are tubes coming out of her nose, and bags holding what looks like blood hover over her bed. Just a few days ago we were lying on the beach.
Pam gasps, “This is all my fault. I asked her to go to Jamaica.”
Yvonne slowly turns her head in our direction. I didn’t know that she was awake. She doesn’t look conscious, but then again, her eyes are just little slits. I think she’s trying to smile, but it looks more like a grimace. I wish she would stop; it looks painful.
Pam goes over to the bed and holds Yvonne’s hand. Not really knowing what else to do, I follow suit, although I feel uncomfortable. My hand is shaking. Looking at her is making me afraid all over again, because it’s obvious that Luke has truly gone mad.
Pam’s voice is shaking as she prays, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Lord, we ask that You come into this hospital room right now. We ask that You send a healing right here for Yvonne. Lord, ease her pain and restore her body. Jesus, strengthen our sister. Lord, cover her. Send Your angels to watch over her day and night. Lord, put Your hedge of protection around her and shield her from the enemy. Jesus, we walk in victory, because we know that by Your stripes we are healed. Lord, send Your healing power. Touch Yvonne’s body right now. Touch her mind and touch her spirit. Give her peace of mind. Make her to know that the prayers of the saints are going forth on her behalf. Allow it to be a comfort in her time of distress. Lord, we ask that You bless and keep her. In Your precious and holy name, Jesus. Amen.”
A trio of nurses comes into the room, and we take this as our cue to leave. Pam kisses Yvonne on the forehead and promises to come back. I don’t know if I can say anything worthy, so I don’t say anything.
Pam drives me home, and we have very little conversation. I can tell she’s very distraught about Yvonne, but she can’t possibly understand the way I feel. Deep down, I get the feeling that I’m responsible for all this. I’m sure that I’m not the first woman that Luke cheated with, but somehow our indiscretion seemed to be a catalyst for the breakdown of their marriage. How can Yvonne not view me that way? I would understand if she did.
The worst thing I could’ve done is visit Yvonne in the hospital on the eve of my second date with Spencer. After seeing her I’m nothing but a ball of nerves and negative energy. How can I trust myself after choosing someone as destructive as Luke? What if I make the same mistake again? Right now is probably not a good time for me to break ground on a new relationship.
I’ve been sitting here on my bed, wrapped in a towel, trying to motivate myself into getting dressed. My hair looks drab, but I’m just going to slick it all back into a neat bun. I finally settle on an ultraconservative black pantsuit. It looks like something I’d wear to work, and it’s not the least bit flattering.
I hear my doorbell ringing, and I know it’s Spencer. The only thing I can see myself doing tonight is telling him everything. And I don’t care how he handles it. If Spencer doesn’t want to deal with me after he knows about my skeletons, then so be it.
He’s smiling when I open the door. I wonder if he’s always like this: grinning like the world is just plain old hunky-dory. He’s holding flowers, as usual.