"I can't believe I fell for his lies again, Ronnie." My hands shook as I poured a glass of wine. I took a long swig of the drink and leaned back against the kitchen counter. "I mean, who am I kidding? He rarely comes home, and when he does, it's for less than an hour or two at a time. This marriage is basically over."
"Hang in there, sister," Ronnie encouraged. "Things may get better."
"I love him. You know that, but I can't continue like this. I will not sit around here waiting for him night after night as my clock runs out. I'm twenty-eight years old, and I'm not getting any younger. Thirty is knocking on my door."
Rhonda made a valiant, yet unsuccessful, attempt to cheer me up. With a smile in her voice, she said, "Well, look at the bright side, girl. Thirty is the new twenty."
"I ain't falling for that!" I slammed the empty glass on the kitchen island. "Thirty is not the new twenty. Girl, go check that mirror one more time. We do not look twenty." The mention of my age made me feel worse. If the next six years of my marriage would be anything like the first six, I looked forward to being a bitter, 34-year old woman. At that point, I lost my battle with that stubborn tear. It drizzled down my right cheek and fell onto the carpeted floor, alongside my pride and self respect. If my father saw me then, he would have been so disappointed. I couldn't believe how far gone I was for a man who somehow managed to inspire me to reach for the stars only to shoot my rising star down.
I rearranged and reorganized my goals to accommodate his. He successfully stole my heart and, then like a thief in the night, he was gone without a trace. In the short time we were together, I managed to break off nearly every tie to the outside world. I put things I wanted to do with my life on hold.
My dream of being a clinical psychologist was shelved as I helped him grow his business. When he made his first million, he said, "No wife of mine will be working." So, at his persistence, I settled into the role of a pampered housewife. I settled, because I believed in his promise that once the day came when his money was good I would go back to school.
I rarely visited my family. My mother didn't like the hold he had on me and when mother didn't like someone it was a given that the rest of the family would despise them, as well. Without her approval, no one made it in or out of the family. That was the way it was, until I defied that unspoken rule by marrying Titus anyway. Despite her bipolar illness, she had the presence of mind to know that he would put me through hell. It was more than she was willing to sit back and watch as a bystander. When my father suffered a heart attack four years ago, mother was distraught. She became persistent that I could do better for myself. She didn't want to see stress eat me alive, like it had my father.