Big Girls Drama (9 page)

I thought it was about time for this conversation I was about to have. I figured I had some time to spare before meeting with my friends for lunch so now was as good a time as any to confront the woman who was causing so much dissension in my marriage. I didn't know why I was so nervous. As I stood at her front door, a part of me wanted to turn and walk away. But I knew this was long overdue, so I rang the doorbell and waited for someone to open the door.

“Monica, what are you doing here?” Isabelle greeted with rigidity. She looked as flawless as ever, wearing a belted yellow, white, and tan floral print fit and flare dress with a soft yellow cardigan.

“Good morning, Isabelle. I was wondering if I could speak with you for a moment.”

She seemed skeptical as she asked, “Why didn't you call first?”

“I did, but no one answered.”

Her expression let me know she knew I called. She just didn't pick up. I should have used my home phone because she would have answered thinking it was Devin. But since I called from my cell, she deliberately ignored it.

“Can I come in?” I asked, still waiting for her decide.

“Well, I guess since you're here,” she said tersely as she stepped to the side, allowing me to enter.

“Please, follow me to the kitchen,” she commanded, and I did as she asked.

When we entered her kitchen, I had a seat at the kitchen table and watched as Isabelle went over to the cabinet to retrieve a mug. Pouring herself a cup of coffee, I wondered if she was going to be hospitable enough to offer me a cup. But when she sat down across from me placing the ceramic mug in front of her, I knew this was just another way she was letting me know she didn't like me. Again . . . church people.

You would think since I'd been married to her son for seven years, she would have come around already. But the conversation I overheard the other night let me know she still felt some type of way about me. It was time to get our issues out in the open once and for all.

“Okay, Monica, what is it that you need to speak to me about?”

“I want to know why you have so much animosity toward me.”

“Excuse me?” she asked like she didn't know what I meant.

“I know you don't care for me. I want to know why,” I said.

I looked Isabelle squarely in her eyes awaiting her answer. She returned the glare as she stirred her coffee before taking a careful sip. Placing the mug down, she began to address me.

“You are not the woman Everson and I wanted for our son.”

She was straight and to the point as she looked impassively at me. I nervously shifted in my seat before responding.

“I get that, but Devin chose me. Isn't that enough of a reason for you to at least try to get to know me?”

“Monica, you are Devin's rebound. You know it. I know it. Everyone knows this,” she responded coldly. “So to me, there is no reason to get to know you any better because I think it's a matter of time before my son comes to his senses and moves on to someone more fitting for him.”

More fitting I thought. Did she just say that to me? Yes, she did. You know why, because there is no one around for her to hold back her negative comments. I had to inhale before continuing to speak to her because I knew if I didn't, this conversation was going to take a turn for the worse, and I was going to be the one who took it there this time.

“Regardless of what you and others think, Devin still chose me. He saw something in me that he loved enough to want to marry me,” I spoke firmly.

Isabelle picked up her cup and took another sip before leaning back assertively. She asked, “Monica, who are you really?”

This question caught me off guard.

“What do you mean?” I asked with a frown.

“Seriously, who are you? As long as you've been with my son, we haven't met any of your family.”

“I know he's told you I had a brother who died. My parents are no longer living.”

“We know that's the story you told our son.”

“Story?”

“Monica, I've had you investigated, and it's almost like you never existed.”

My heart began to beat rapidly at the mention of her investigating me. You would think I wouldn't be shocked by anything this woman did, but I was. The mischievous look she was giving me made me wonder if she found out about my past. Was this a game of who was going to break first? Maybe she had nothing and was waiting for me to spill my life story to her, but that was never going to happen. If she was a real woman, she would have asked me about my past before having me investigated. I would have respected her more for it.

“Why would you do that?” I asked coolly.

“Mr. Woods and I are prominent figures in the community and have a reputation to uphold. More importantly, you are with our only child, whom we love dearly. Knowing whom my son is married to is understandable, don't you think?”

“What I think is you had me investigated to see if you could find out some dirt on me.”

“So dirt
does
exist on you?” she asked with a raised brow.

“Everyone has dirt, Isabelle. So, please don't sit there like your past is pristine. As I recall this happily ever after marriage you and Mr. Woods are portraying is not so happy since it rumored he's had numerous affairs on you.”

Her condescending gaze quickly changed to anger at the mention of her husband's “indiscretions.” She was so busy trying to dig up dirt on my past, she needed to use that same private investigator to find out what her husband's been up to lately.

Clearing her throat, Isabelle leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as she clasped her hands together.

“Monica, if you want the real, here it is. I don't like you. You are an okay-looking woman, but you need to pull away from the table. I'm still trying to figure out how my son could stomach laying up with you. Now, Georgiana, she's beautiful and a model.”

“Excuse me?”

“I think you are an opportunist who took advantage of my son during a difficult time. You dug your claws in him as soon as you got the opportunity and ran with him to the alter. Georgiana is the love of his life, and I think you know that already. You are nothing to my son, and the quicker you get that through your head, the better we will all be. Now, as for my marriage, my husband and I are happily married. Believe the rumors all you want, but the fact still remains, my son does not love you, not like he loves Georgiana.”

A seething hatred rose within me as I absorbed this “Christian woman's” words. I watched as she confidently picked up her coffee again and sipped it like we were having a pleasant conversation.

“Devin does love me,” I insisted.

“Keep telling yourself that, honey. I know my son, and it's only a matter of time before he divorces you.”

“Do you really think I'm going to give up that easily?”

“It's in your best interest to,” she said sharply.

“Why? So Devin and Georgiana can get back together, and you all can play the perfect church family?” I asked angrily.

“Exactly. You
are
getting the picture already. I'm
glad
we had this talk.”

I couldn't believe Isabelle was sitting here talking to me like I was going to actually walk away from my marriage. I married Devin because I loved him. We'd had our trying times, but what marriage doesn't. When I said I do, I meant that for a lifetime—not until his ex decided she wanted him again.

“If you think I'm going to divorce Devin, you have another think coming.”

“Honey, stop torturing yourself. I know my son has already filed the paperwork. He's already informed you he wants to divorce you. So please, save yourself the trouble and heartache and sign the papers so we all can move on with our lives.”

How did this woman know about the divorce and him asking me? I guess my husband went running to mommy, telling her what happened last night. Or maybe it was her idea in the first place, and she helped him file the papers. Knowing this conniving woman, she's behind why Devin has been pushing me away.

“Isabelle, you better get on a move if you don't want to be late,” a familiar voice said entering the kitchen. And to my dismay, it was Georgiana fastening a bracelet around her wrist. And closely following behind her . . . was my husband.

“What the hell is this?” I yelled, shooting up out of my seat.

Georgiana looked back at Devin, who seemed stunned by my presence. I didn't recall seeing his car outside, but he did park it in the garage many times when he came to his parents' home.

“Monica, what are you doing here?” he asked nervously.

“You asking
me
what
I'm
doing here? What the hell are
you
doing with
her?
” I pointed.

“I'm not with her,” he retorted.

“Your ass walked in here like you with her,” I yelled.

“Don't curse in my parents' home, please.”

“I can't curse, but you can cheat on me with your ex?” I shot back.

“I'm not cheating.”

Ignoring him I asked, “Is this why you left this morning without saying anything to me? You had to get over here to your whore.”

“Monica, I haven't disrespected you, so please don't disrespect me,” Georgiana defended.

“How did I disrespect you?” I asked, taking a couple of steps toward her. Devin stepped in between us.

“You called me a whore.”

“You cheated on Devin with his cousin, right?”

All heads dropped at the mention of her “misdeed.” As much as Isabelle would like to think Georgiana was the perfect woman for Devin, Georgiana was also the one who broke her son's heart.

“Oh, everybody quiet now. That's what you did, right? Isn't that the actions of a whore?”

“I made a mistake,” she said regretfully, cutting her eye at Devin.

“One that cost you the love of your life who is now the love of mine. So stop creeping around trying to rekindle a love you never respected anyway.”

“I will admit, I hurt Devin,” Georgiana said. When she said this, she peered into Devin's eyes.

“I've apologize over and over again for my actions. Not only did I ruin our future, I caused friction in your family and humiliation in the church. Devin has been wonderful enough to forgive me and remain friends with me.”

Devin dropped his head at her words before looking back at me.

Turning to me, she continued.

“He's a friend who I love dearly. The one thing you will never take from me is the love I have for this man, Monica. So, think what you want. Little do you realize your own actions are probably what's ruined your relationship.”

“Are you done? Because I don't need someone like you giving me advice about my relationship when you clearly don't have one and couldn't keep one of your own.”

“Monica, please.”

“No, Devin, she had her chance with you, and she ruined it. Don't allow her to come in now and ruin what we have,” I pleaded.

“You see, this is why I don't deal with ratchet women,” Georgiana murmured.

“Ratchet?” I roared.

“You are in a minister's home acting like this,” Georgiana stated. “You're yelling and not giving Devin the opportunity to explain to you what's really going on.”

“I
see
what's going on.”

“What you
see
is a son at his parents' house.”

“A house that happens to also be occupied by his ex-fiancée. If you were me and walked in on this situation, what would
you
think?”

Georgiana had nothing to say now.

“Exactly. So please exit left so I can talk with my husband alone.”

Devin's forehead creased at my words. I looked at his mother who gloated with a pompous sneer.

“So this is how church people do. They break up marriages. Should I go to the alter tomorrow and confess what is happening? What will the congregation think when I tell them your parents are helping in the demise of our relationship because they are busy trying to reconnect a past love with their
married
son?”

Isabelle's superior grin was quickly replaced with a fearful one.

“Oh, now I got a reaction out of the first lady. Just like I suspected. The church and your precious appearance is what's more important. You know just like I do people wouldn't be happy about you breaking up the sanctity of marriage.”

“Devin, please escort your Monica out of our home,” his mother demanded.

“I'm his
wife
. You can say it. And as long as I have breath in my body, I will
always
be his wife.”

“Come on, Georgiana. Come help me finish getting ready. We don't need to continue to listen to this woman.”

I watched as both of them exited the kitchen, leaving me standing with my husband who looked dumbfounded at what was going down.

“Really, Devin?
This
is how you do me?”

“Monica, I told you, nothing was going on.”

“I'm supposed to believe that when you asked me for a divorce? To me, it seems like you are not wasting any time. You are already attaching yourself to another woman when we are still married to each other.”

“You can take it how you want. It's evident I can't change your mind,” he said.

“I'm
still
your wife. And being that I am, you will respect me as such. We are
not
divorced. I'm
not
giving up on us. Not like this.”