A Woman on the Verge Part 4 by Devon Greene
Let the Drama Begin…
It was early Friday evening. Troy was due to meet me at the house at any minute. I lay sprawled across the couch with the same clothes I had on the last time he saw me. I hadn’t seen or heard from Troy for over three days. In those three days, all I did was lie around with the window curtains drawn and the telephone off the hook. I couldn’t dare tell anyone about my newfound situation; it was just too humiliating. The television remained on the weather channel with the sound muted the entire time and I stared at it for hours mostly in a deep trance. I hadn’t eaten either; and still didn’t have much of an appetite. I felt like the world was spinning and I didn’t know how to make it stop. Usually, I had an answer or solution to any and everything, but this one had me stumped.
The house was so quiet that I was able to hear him place his key into the lock. The squeaking sound of the deadbolt caused my stomach to churn. When he walked through the door, I looked him over thoroughly; his once five o’clock shadow looked as if it was turning into a full fledged beard. He handed me a white envelope with Health Center 5 stamped across it. I took a deep breath and opened it up; all the STD tests I demanded he take had come back negative.
“So,” he said looking around the house as if he had never been there before. “Are you ready to talk?”
“I guess so,” I whispered. My voice was hoarse from all the crying I had been doing.
“Have you been eating?” he asked already knowing the answer.
“Yeah,” I said forcing a smile on my face. “I just finished a sandwich before you got here.”
He shook his head and then said, “You’re lying.”
I didn’t bother to answer. I just sat there and continued to stare at the television.
“When’s the last time you took a shower?” he asked
“Today,” I answered. “What’s with all the questions?”
“Listen, your hair is all over your head and not to be smart, but I can smell you. Go upstairs, get washed and let’s go grab something to eat. We can talk after that.”
He held his hand out to help me up from the couch. I swung my feet over the side and stood up. I trudged up the stairs like my legs each weighed a ton as I made my way to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and brushed the top of my hair, neglecting to comb it all the way through and twisted it up in a bun. I got into the shower and washed my body as if it was a chore. I dried off and threw on a pair of jeans and a tattered grey sweatshirt.
After driving around for about twenty minutes, we decided to get pizza from Papa John’s. He ordered the cheesy breadsticks I love and a large pepperoni. We took a seat and remained silent until our order was ready. The aroma of freshly baked pizza filled the car and my nose as I held the box on my lap while he drove back home. Once back in the house, we settled in upstairs in the bedroom. We placed the pizza box in the middle of the bed and we took a seat across from one another. As he lifted the lid to the box, my stomach made a loud growl. I grabbed the first piece and held it up to mouth; the phone rang before I could take the first bite.
“Hello,” I said still holding the slice of pizza up to my mouth.
“Hello can I speak to Troy,” a young sounding woman said from the other side of the phone.
I dropped the slice back in the box and then asked, “Who is this?”
“Shanice,” the woman answered without hesitation.
“How did you get this number?” I asked, my heart beating out of my chest.
“Does it really matter?” she asked. “He not answering his cell phone and I really need to speak to him.”
“Listen here sweetie,” I said as if I was her mother. “This is his WIFE, and don’t you ever call this number again. I don’t care if he is not answering his phone. You hear me?”
“Yes,” she said sounding like a little school girl.
I then held the phone out so she could hear and said, “Troy, you better tell this bitch not to call my house again. She must have lost her damn mind.”
He grabbed the phone and proceeded to ask her where she got the number from and to never call it again.
My appetite disappeared and the knots that I had the last few days were back. I quickly dialed his mother’s number knowing that she knew what was going on.
“Hello,” Ms Glenda answered.
“How did that bitch get my number?” I started. “She just called here.”
“She just called here screaming at me asking me how long ya’ll been married. I’m not in this,” Ms. Glenda said and hung up the phone.
No this bitch didn’t just hang up on me, I thought as I threw the cordless phone against the bedroom wall. I let out a loud scream and Troy jumped up from the bed.
“I’m going over there to set her straight,” he said walking towards the door.
After I paced the floor for a bit, I finally turned to Troy and said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. She might get you locked up or something. You didn’t tell her you were married?”
“I told her I was getting married and she thought I was playing,” he said standing in the doorway.
“Well, if she bold enough to call a number that you didn’t give her no telling what she’s capable of. I think you better get a restraining order.”
Troy walked back over to the bed and closed the lid to the pizza box, “Yeah, I was thinking about that, too.”
“Better sooner than later,” I said leaving out the room.
“So are we gonna talk,” he asked following me out of the bedroom and into the hallway.
“No, not right now,” I said. “I need to think.”
“Well can I at least come back home?” he asked
“I guess so Troy, you can sleep on the couch,” I said shutting the door to the bathroom in his face. I sat on the toilet seat and held my head in my hands. I wept silently as I did the night I found out the twins.
Troy decided to take my advice and filed a restraining order against his baby momma and good thing he did, because while they were in court for the protection order hearing, she acted out so bad that the judge almost locked her up for contempt. He was granted a three year protection order and the judge told him that she could see why he was afraid of her. But the restraining order was just a mere piece of paper that couldn’t possibly keep her away. She wrote “Bitch” on our front door in black magic marker a few days later. The embarrassment of having a report filed and explaining the story to the police officers loomed over both of our heads.
What really sent Troy over the top was when she started messing with our cars. She slashed all four of the tires on my car and smashed the driver’s side window. He called himself keeping his car out of sight by parking it five blocks away, but she was still able to find it. Just so happen he was working in New Jersery one day and the car died in the parking lot of the construction site. He spent three-hundred dollars on a mechanic for him only to tell him that there was sugar in the tank.
By the time they actually got to child support court, he had already filed over eleven different police reports. She had him fired from his job by continuing to call there and he was now only working part-time as a security guard at a parking lot. She was awarded fifty dollars a month in child support for both kids and had to be escorted out of the courtroom again for trying to lunge over the table at him.
Once the child support order was set, Troy admitted that it was the dumbest mistake he ever made in his life. The court experience made him feel like a criminal and of course his hatred for her grew more and more. He insisted on having nothing to do with the kids as she also agreed. Shanice made it perfectly clear that she was not going to allow another woman in his sons’ life; she’d rather raise them alone. However, her harassment continued and she was able to beat the system because most of the law enforcement officers thought it was funny that a man had a order of protection against a female.
Things only grew more complicated for our relationship. The strain of the back and forth to court with her and his lack of “real” employment due to his lack of fidelity damn near drove me insane. I was a woman on the verge and I knew for sure that I was going to go crazy-who wouldn’t in a situation like mine? I loved Troy, but I knew that if I stayed our relationship would never be the same. Healing would be more of a job than my nine to five. I prayed to God; should I stay? Or should I go? He finally gave me an answer….
To be continued….
© 2012, Shalena D.I.V.A.- Unleash the D.I.V.A. Within. All rights reserved.
Originally posted 2010-06-06 23:46:45.
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