I Married The Wrong Person(4)

By: Tiffany Taylor



“Well Marlon, don’t put yourself in situation where people talk and we won’t have to, but it’s not about you all the time. And don’t you know that this is not just your marriage but it’s mine too. Plus, these are my friends. They don’t gossip. We talk things out with each other, not other people, and most of the time it’s me giving them advice. They’re not even thinking about you,” I responded to him while grabbing my freshly toasted bagel and reaching for the cream cheese from the refrigerator shelf. I was also clearing the table from last night dinner that was never touched.

“Yes they are. All your friends want me. Look at me,” he said, pushing up his tie on his neck and looking at himself through the glare from the kitchen window. “I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.” Now sounding cockier than ever. “And your friends know it too. Nicole, Theresa, and especially Valarie. Speaking of Val, she’s not even married. What does Valarie talk about when y’all have marriage discussion?” he asked with his hands rested in the air.

“Well, she is about to get married,” I said, walking over to put a half of my bagel in his hand that he never asked for. “And you’re not all that. My friends are not thinking about you.”

“Oh, don’t tell me the dude that nobody has ever met proposed to her?” he asked, taking a bite of the bagel then putting the rest on my plate and clapping off the crumbs from his hands.

“Not exactly. They’re just talking about it.”

“That doesn’t count,” Marlon said, sounding confused.

“Yes it does,” I said, putting my hand on my hips and turning around to look at him in his face. “And I think it’s smart. I think all couples should talk about it before they make a big step like that. I wish we had taken time to talk about it first.”

“We didn’t need to talk about it. It just made sense for us to be together and get married.” He looked down at his watch and then over to the clock that hung on the wall to verify the time. He was obviously super late now as he started rushing out the kitchen, but not before there was a knock at the door. “Who can that be?” he asked inquisitively.

He opened the door and there stood two big black gentlemen dressed in all black. They looked as if they were bodyguards or security for someone important. One of them spoke in a plain tone, just telling Marlon that the Boss needed to see him. I had never seen them before and it made me question who they were. But, of course, I wasn’t going to ask him at that time. Not responding to their statement, he grabbed his briefcase and walked out the door.

“Have a good day,” I murmured in the same disappointed voice from earlier, not thinking much of the men that were just at the door. I couldn’t help but realize and say to myself, “Again, no kiss. No hug. No ‘I love you’. Just work, work, and more work.” I watched Marlon slam the door and listened to the footsteps down the stairs of all the men. Then thought to myself aloud, “I guess that’s why I make myself busy. To keep my mind off the lack of attention I’m receiving.” That’s when I picked up my cellphone and started making calls to fill up my days and weeks with appearances and meetings for myself. That was one way to keep my mind off Marlon’s busy work schedule. Even though I don’t approve of him being so busy, I still mention a word of prayer for his well-being and that he have a safe and productive day.

“Lord, help him throughout his day. Allow him to be guided by You and please show him the right way. Relieve some of his stress and keep him motivated to do his job well. While You at it Lord, can You please help him realize he has a good wife that needs a little attention too? Just whisper it in his ear God. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.”

As I walked out the kitchen, I realized that I pray for him more than I pray for myself. I guess that’s what a Christian wife is supposed to do.





Chapter 2 – Nicole

As the sun rises, I just couldn’t find a way to escape all the chaos. I wanted to escape to silence. Away from the noise from my ten-year-old twin girls, Dawn and Debra, arguing over what to wear. Away from the bumps and rumbles of the basketball being thrown by my seven-year-old son Donald, plus the yells to ‘keep quiet and don’t wake up your mother’ from my blue collared factory worker husband, Brian. I just grabbed a pillow to put over my head until I could hear nothing but the ticks from the clock that hung adjacent to the window that was open, pushing out sounds from the morning trash truck as it obviously was trying to back up, making that loud beeping sound. The house phone rang several times, but no one answered it. Then it was Brian’s cellphone that sat on the nightstand right beside the bed. It is on vibrate but it made that buzzing sound and moved, as if it’s about to fall to the floor. I realized that whoever it is calling was desperately trying to get in touch with my very active husband.

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