———–— Chapter 4 —————

Rooted in Turmoil

August 2013 – April 2018 

James was doing wonderfully at work and once more was promoted, but this time he was also being transferred. His new position was taking us away from my family. We were moving two hours away from them. I had never lived away from my family, but I was excited to start my life with him. We had also decided to try and start a family right away. It was a month before we were scheduled to move, and I resigned from my job. James’s career was very demanding, so I had to pack everything on my own.

One morning James had gotten home from work, and as usual, he would watch some television to wind down before he would go to sleep. I was asleep in our bedroom when his cell phone rang. I ignored it. He hadn’t heard it. I found it odd that he left the phone upstairs because his job called constantly, and he always answered. I mean always, no matter what, he answered when his job called. 

Once more the phone rang, except this time he heard it and came upstairs to answer. Imagine my surprise when he decided not to answer. I figured it couldn’t have been someone from work because he ignored the call, so I asked who called, and he answered, “My job.” He then went back downstairs but left his phone upstairs. Even now, I don’t know what possessed me to check his phone, but I did. I didn’t recognize the number. It wasn’t even a local number, which was weird because he claimed it to be his job. His job had not called. He lied. My suspicion grew. I opened Pandora’s box when I decided to call the number back. 

When I called using the house landline instead of his cell phone, I heard “Hello,” and it was a woman’s voice. I quietly hung up and cried. Sadness turned to fury until I calmed myself and walked halfway down the stairs. He was sitting in the living room watching television. I calmly asked him who had called. Without looking up and without hesitation, he answered, “My job.” Once again, I asked him who called and asked him not to lie to me. He huffed and admitted that, yes, it was a friend. I questioned him on why he thought he needed to lie to me about his friends calling me and his explanation was that I wouldn’t have understood him having female friends. 

Naturally, I didn’t believe him and flat out told him that his friend would surely have no problem confirming it if what he told me was true. I went back upstairs, locked the door and called her. He ran up behind me but I had already locked myself in the bedroom and was waiting for her to answer by the time he knocked on the door. 

“Hello,” she said again. I kindly explained to her that I was James’ wife and asked if she would explain the nature of their relationship to me. She immediately began to apologize and claimed that she didn’t know that he was married. She told me that she had met him online and that they had been getting to know each other better for a few months now. She also told me that they would talk every night while he was at work. 

I couldn’t hear another word. My stomach had turned into knots. I felt so sick that I could vomit. A thousand emotions took over me. Meanwhile, James is banging on the door, asking to let him in. I opened the door, just as his cell phone rang. It was her. He answered and said “Hi Jess,” very casually. The fact that he was comfortable enough to shorten her name like a term of endearment completely shocked me. Jess?! Really?! Not Jessica, but Jess! I hear her yelling at him asking why he lied to her and never told her that he was married. “Jessica, Jessica” I hear as he keeps trying to interrupt her to explain and just as he was about to explain to her, my emotions exploded. I cursed and yelled at him to hang up. How dare he try to explain anything to her? She was no one to him. I was his wife. The only person he had to explain to is his wife, not “Jess.” 

He began accusing me of not being understanding. How dare I tell him that he could not have friends? That tactic didn’t work, and he knew it. He then tried a different approach. She didn’t mean anything to him. He was bored at work and searched for something to do online, and that was how they met; it just got carried away. He wasn’t going to let their friendship get any farther than phone conversations. But his explanation did more harm than good. Their friendship sounded very familiar—too familiar. It was how our relationship had started, and that hurt me more than I could bear. 

I asked to be left alone and he obliged. Later that afternoon we were expecting his mother, Rachel, and younger brother Andrew. 

Andrew was coming to spend a week with us. I made myself scarce and avoided them altogether. I left the house and just wandered around, hoping that they would be gone before I got back. No luck. When I got back, there they were waiting to say hello before Rachel and her husband Dennis left. Rachel could tell something was wrong but didn’t dare ask. She asked if it would be better if she took Andrew back home, but James insisted that he stayed. I didn’t care either way. I couldn’t even look at James, let alone be in the same room as him, so I once again left, soon after Rachel and Dennis left. 

I visited my dad who lived nearby. He commented on my appearance and told me that I looked very sick. I assured him I was okay. My aunt jokingly made a comment about being pregnant made some women look sick. I laughed it off, but inside my heart dropped. James and I had been trying to start a family. I was two days away from the first day of my menstrual cycle. In anticipation of learning whether we had succeeded in our venture of a family, James and I had purchased an early pregnancy test the week prior to all of this. 

I felt both excited and dread. I didn’t want to be pregnant. I wanted a divorce. Twenty-four hours earlier I would have been ecstatic to ponder whether I was having his child. While I still wanted a baby, I no longer wanted to have one with James. I wanted to get rid of James and didn’t want anything that had to do with him. I would never consider abortion, so the prospect of having James in my life forever as my husband or as the father of my child was dreadful. 

I went home and headed straight for the shower. I took out the pregnancy test and followed the instructions. Avoiding the results, I jumped into the shower. During the shower, my curiosity got the better of me, and I could not wait another minute. I jumped out and avoided looking at it directly like it was an eclipse; I took a peek. It was positive. The second pink light was very light, but it could have been the sun the way it peered back at me so brightly. I got back in the shower and cried. I was so upset. 

My first pregnancy was clouded by hurt and betrayal. I felt even more hatred towards James. He robbed me of being happy about finding out I was pregnant. I entered my bedroom and he was lying on the bed. I tossed the pregnancy test at him. He was clueless about what it meant but I refused to talk to him to explain. He checked the box and began jumping up and down in excitement. 

He wanted to hug me but thought the better of it. I sat there bewildered. Who was this person? Did he have short memory loss? He called Andrew into the bedroom and told him that we were having a baby. He started talking to himself, asking himself who he should call to give the good news to first. I just sat there staring at him while rubbing on lotion. In all of this I hadn’t said a word. He had said enough for the both of us. 

I watched him and my heart melted. I couldn’t have imagined a better reception to him finding out I was pregnant. I was lucky to have such a husband. Wait! What was I thinking? “Lucky to have such a husband?” I thought. His short-term memory must be contagious! My heart hardened again when I had remembered what he had done. He called his family and they were all very excited. He asked if we could call my family because he wanted to tell everyone. He took a chance and hugged me. I tried hard to stay mad but I was so tired of being upset. I allowed myself to enjoy my pregnancy even if it was only for the rest of the night. 

The next morning my mom called and invited me over for breakfast. I was happy to accept her invitation. I began getting ready when James walked into the bedroom. He asked where I was off to. He looked so sad and couldn’t look directly into my eyes. I didn’t tell him where I was going but simply replied that I would return later. He apologized for all of the hurt that he had caused. He asked me not to divorce him. He wanted us to raise our family together and that we could work it out. I listened to him without a reply. He hugged me and told me that he would spend the rest of his life making up for this mistake. I believed him. I left and went to my mother’s that morning without giving him a response. I returned that afternoon James’s wife and the mother of his child. I forgave him, but I didn’t forget, not by a long shot. 

We moved and found a nice apartment near James’s mother, Rachel. I didn’t know anyone besides his mother and was bored at home alone, so James bought me a computer. I would fiddle around on it teaching myself programs and basic computer and internet knowledge. I spent most of my day playing on the computer or watching television. Otherwise, we were both so excited about the baby. James accompanied me to every appointment I had. We set up the baby’s crib and belongings and eagerly awaited the birth. Every night we would write in the baby’s pregnancy journal and read what the baby looked like and how it was growing. Baby names were an adventure because we couldn’t agree on any name. We finally decided on Evelyn and were very happy with it. Evelyn was born and we were both excited and nervous as first time parents. 

During my whole pregnancy Rachel was around. Once Evelyn was to be born, she was to babysit so that I could go to work. Two days after Evelyn was born Rachel and James had gotten into a major argument. Accusations of her overstepping boundaries as a mother and him slacking as a husband too were made and Rachel moved out of state a few weeks later. She wanted no part of babysitting and was quite upset with us. That episode left both parties very bitter. 

A few months passed. One of James’s co-workers had gotten a transferring promotion and was given a going away party. James attended the shindig against my wishes. He didn’t get home until six o’clock in the morning. I was livid to say the least. As soon as he entered the house I began yelling and accusing him of everything imaginable including seeing Jessica behind my back. 

I believe that was the moment I began my downward spiral. I convinced myself that he was not to be trusted and I did whatever I could to prove it. Over the next few years I secretly checked his cell phone call history. I would check to see how long each call was and how often he called or was called by each number. I would check the times of the call. I would sometimes call the number to see who would answer, but I would block my number. I was obsessed. For many years I continued this. 

We moved several times due to James’s frequent promotions. We moved five times within four years. Each move was at least an hour away from the previous place. During that time, I had gotten pregnant again. Just as he did with my first pregnancy, James accompanied me to every appointment. Since my first pregnancy resulted in a Cesarean Section, my second pregnancy resulted in a scheduled delivery date. Our son Gabriel was born. 

Unlike the first time, James didn’t take any time off from work. James’ parents helped the first few days and then my mom stayed with me for a week. We had just moved into apartment number five the day I was discharged from the hospital. It was hard adjusting to a new place, another baby and unpacking all right after surgery. I felt like he was not part of the process at all. 

By this time James had gotten obsessed with his career and would work six days a week, sometimes all week with no days off. The distance between us was very evident. Just as James became more obsessed with work, I became more obsessed with proving he was cheating. I changed tactics. I began accusing him straight out to see if he would get nervous or show any signs of being caught. He would call me crazy. I would even admit that I checked his phone records and called the girl that he was cheating with. That was a complete lie. He would laugh and ask if that were true that I would have no problem giving him the name of this supposed girl. I never could. But he had to be cheating. There was no other explanation for him working six to seven days a week. The days he would be home, we argued. Our love life was all but non-existent. What else could it be? He had to be cheating. All of the magazines and relationship experts said so. 

We moved yet again a few months later unhappy where we were. Things had progressively gotten worse. We argued all the time and couldn’t agree on anything. One afternoon we got into yet another heated argument about nothing and I asked him to leave and never come back. He told me he would leave for just one night. The next day we returned and just as we had done many times before, it had passed. 

Three days later we got into another pointless argument and I asked him to leave again. He did and told me he wasn’t returning. I laughed at him. He left for two days. For two days I didn’t hear from him. He returned and I assumed that we would get past it as usual, but we didn’t. He only returned to get some more clothes. I thought he was playing hard ball and laughed at him. I helped him pack his clothes. 

To my surprise he moved to Rachel’s house out of state. I guess their relationship wasn’t so bitter after all. He called me the next day and told me he was never coming back and that our relationship was over. I was confused. I gambled and lost. I went into crazy mode. James not returning was enough of the ammunition I needed to set me off on a mission to prove he was with someone else. I went through the usual drill of checking cell phone records. 

There was one number that I saw quite often. I anonymously called it and it was a young lady that he supervised at work named Becky. It was not uncommon that his employees called him on an everyday basis, or he would call them. Hearing her voicemail wasn’t enough to prove he was cheating. That night I gave up the cell phone records search since I couldn’t find any concrete evidence. I couldn’t sleep so I began packing the remainder of his clothing still in his dresser. He mentioned coming to pick them up the next day. 

In the bottom of one of the drawers, I found one of his business cards with Becky’s name and phone number written on the back. I didn’t understand the need for her phone number to be written on the back of a business card and hidden in a sock drawer. I found “evidence.” Or did it find me? I told myself that it was fate. I was supposed to find that because I was supposed to know the truth. I did what anyone in my state of mind would have done. I called her again. This time she answered. In a calm and civil voice, I asked her directly if she was having an affair with James. After all, there was no need for me to behave irrationally. She seemed shocked. She quickly answered no and explained that he was only her boss. She became very upset and hung up on me. 

I believed her. Her reaction seemed genuine. Her reply was nothing like Jessica’s. She was more than willingly to divulge information regarding her relationship with James. I knew I had messed up terribly. I sat there in the dark waiting in terror. I knew he would call, and I knew I had really pushed the envelope too far this time. 

James called me ten minutes later. He was beyond upset. He said that I had broken the final straw. I had embarrassed him at work, and he was sure to be the topic of gossip. He told me he had contemplated whether he had made the right decision in leaving, but now he had no doubt. He forcefully said, “Our marriage is over,” and that pierced me straight through my heart. I told him that I would call her and apologize, trying to ease his anger, but he warned me not to. He told me to never call her ever again. I called her back anyway. What could it hurt, I figured? She didn’t answer. I apologized on her voicemail and promised to never call her again.

However, I wouldn’t accept that my marriage was over. I didn’t hear from or see James for a week. That didn’t stop me from calling him all of the time. He finally came to the apartment and brought along his little brother Andrew, who wasn’t so little anymore. He visited the children for an hour. For the entire hour I tried to secretly beg him to come home, making his visit miserable for him I am sure. He looked right into my eyes and told me that he didn’t love me anymore and that our marriage was over. I was crushed. He meant it. I knew he meant it. His eyes said so. The next night around ten o’clock at night, I was on the phone with James when there was a loud knock at the door. Things were about to get worse. 

Psalm 7:15 (NIV)

Whoever digs a hole and scoops it out

falls into the pit they have made.