Sister Girls 2 (9 page)

Ruthless was his middle name. He gave Bella her share of the money, telling her, “I'll see you when I see you.”

Bella continued to let Black take care of her and during that time, she saved just about every penny he gave her. She went back to school and got her high school diploma and then onto college. Black supported her every choice.

It was in college when she developed an interest in philosophy and religion, it was also what sent her on a quest for God.

Bella started attending various churches and Bible studies.

Black noticed the changes in her. He also knew it was time to let her go and grow. Plus, he found another woman, one that wasn't motivated to change.

To this day, Bella still thought about Black and how if he had not come into her life when he did, her life just might have been over. She was thankful for him and for a while they kept in touch. Black was more than a john to Bella, he was her guardian angel.

FAITH

A
nother hang up. Faith was tired of this shit. It'd been going on for so long now, too damn long and she was getting tired of the games, of pretending like things were okay between them, tired of accepting the fact that he had mistresses.

She was his wife, damn it! It was either time to work it out or move on. Who was she kidding? There would be no moving on. The truth about their situation was there was nothing left to work on. The, I love you so much, I don't know what I'd do without you, feeling was gone. The “I can't live without you” had turned into “I'm grateful to you, love.” That is not the type of love that kept a marriage together.

Faith refused to let Raheem walk all over her anymore. She refused to let him think he could see other women and that it was okay.

It amazed her the way some men seriously thought they could do whatever they wanted to and however they want to as long as they were paying the bills.

The night of Susan's party, listening to Timothy's friend, Malik, showed Faith that this crazy way of thinking didn't only pertain to her household, that it was going on in a number of homes as well. Homes where the wives were treated as doormats, homes where they dealt with it because the men were financially well-off. Homes where outward appearances represented something different than what was actually going on, homes where the money was plentiful but the love was not.

The funny thing was when she'd counseled women that were in abusive relationships, women stayed in spite of what they were going through. She would try to convince them otherwise, she would try to talk them into leaving. “You don't have to live like that!” she'd tell them, but she was living the same way but under different circumstances.

Faith believed that she was getting too old for games, she wanted to be loved and cherished, not treated like a piece of property. She didn't want to feel like she was owned or like she owed anyone. She didn't want to feel like she had to love someone because they helped her survive.

Faith finally beat her addiction and it had been years since she'd used. Put those years clean with years of use and you'd get a woman that still had inner struggles and inner demons. She wanted to rid herself of her personal demons; she needed to in order to continue helping others rid themselves of theirs.

On and off of cocaine for months at a time, a year off here and a year off there and a few binges in between had taken its toll on her physically, spiritually, and mentally. Each time she returned to her habit, it had gotten worse. She attended meetings on and off, following a step here and a step there but never ready to surrender.

It was that
surrender
word Faith couldn't get past. Surrender to Faith meant giving her life up for someone else to run. She wasn't ready to do that.

What changed is when after a three-day binge, Faith got into a car accident and almost totaled the car. She didn't remember anything about the accident and that scared the shit out of her.

Faith decided to start attending meetings again and this time she was going to listen and learn instead of just sitting there and doubting. This time she was going to take part and tell her story instead of getting engrossed in others. This time she was going to get up the nerves and ask for a sponsor. That sponsor ended up being Susan and with Susan's support, her sobriety became a reality.

It was Susan that kept it gully and asked her how the hell she could be telling others what to do with their lives when hers was fucked-up. It was Susan that told her she was a fraud. Susan even advised her to take a step back from counseling and counsel her damn self.

It took a while for those words to soak in. But when they did, Faith went looking for an African American therapist, someone like herself, someone she felt would be able to better relate to her. It turned out the person's race didn't matter. She ended up using a black and a white therapist. They both offered something different.

It wasn't only therapy that helped her heal and become clean but it was also the prescription of antidepressants.

When they were first prescribed to her, Faith was like, there's no way she was going to take one drug to replace another. Hell, she wasn't so crazy that she needed a pill, she just needed time to get it together mentally, and she could figure it out on her own.

“Have you been able to figure it out yet?” Susan would ask her.

Just when she thought it was figured out, Faith would relapse. After going back and forth with sobriety and Susan finally saying she couldn't continue to be her sponsor if she didn't pull it together, Faith decided to give the antidepressants a try and this time to stick with it.

Maybe what she had was a chemical imbalance and if these little “helpers” did just that—helped her—then it would all work out for the best.

It did. The pills helped to balance her emotions and once that happened, she had clarity and once she had clarity she was able to make better choices and better decisions.

The funny thing about this was, when Raheem saw that she was doing better, that she was becoming stronger, he grew suspicious. He started going through her things and when he came across the antidepressants, he asked her, “What the hell do you need antidepressants for? You've got me to help you.”

His reaction reminded Faith of something she'd heard in the NA room: very often people wanted a person to stay where they were in life, even if it was stagnant, especially when they felt they had one up on you. Change made a lot of people feel uncomfortable, especially loved ones and when they saw that change for better was happening they often tried to jeopardize it in some way.

Faith was afraid that this is what would happen, therefore she tried to keep the fact that she was taking the pills a secret. She was also afraid she would be seen as being even weaker than she already was.

Faith was thankful for her “happy pill.” She even noticed the difference in her behaviors. She wondered if it meant she really was emotionally unstable? How much longer could she have operated that way? How much longer before she was sent over the edge?

With Faith's newfound sense of self, she was ready to sit Raheem down and tell him what she'd finally realized and accepted herself, that she wanted a divorce.

There was some guilt with this decision because Raheem was an above-average provider. He did give her the option of working full- or part-time or not working at all, which is what happened when his kids from a previous marriage were living with them. She stayed home and took care of them. Now mind you, initially she was not feeling mothering someone else's children and she let Raheem know this.

“But that's what a good wife is supposed to do,” Raheem told her. “I've taken good care of you, I've supported you, and I've been there for you. I'm asking that you do this for me.”

So she did.

When she left him, Faith knew that the financial security he provided her with, the lifestyle she'd grown accustomed to, would be a challenge giving up.

She had a top-of-the-line Mercedes, she lived in a house that realistically was too big for the both of them, and he gave her spending money every week, even with her earning her own money. She knew she should have stopped that a long time ago, but she loved having the extra money. Her situation was a fantasy to other women, what more could she possibly want? She had access to all the material things any woman would desire.

Faith realized this situation was about more than material things and status, it was about her dignity. It was about him respecting her as a person and not as property. It was about love, genuine love, real love, a love that surpasses all understanding, as the Bible put it. It was about the love she simply wasn't getting enough of.

In a way, Faith believed Raheem loved her but it was the love of a caretaker, not the love of husband and wife, not “till death do us apart” love.

Even with his other women, Faith allowed him to get up inside her. They made love once every couple of weeks, like it was a duty. She was a paid whore, at least that's how she was starting to feel. There'd been so many other women that she stopped caring. Faith started to accept Raheem for what he was. A provider only and in exchange for this provision she gave him the pussy.

 

 

Faith discovered his infidelities by the numerous hang ups on the phone, numbers he left lying around, and whispered conversations she'd catch him having. She'd also had him followed on more than one occasion only to confirm what she already knew. Even with that evidence she wasn't ready to leave.

But for some reason, this morning was different. When the phone rang and she answered it, the silence on the other end didn't affect her the way it used to, it didn't upset her as much. Faith just moved the phone from her ear, looked at it, shook her head, and just hung up. She was done. She was getting too old to play these games. It was time for a confrontation.

Faith looked at the time on the oven and saw that it was nearing 6:00
PM
. Raheem told her he was coming home after work. Whenever he made it a point to tell her this, she knew what he was really saying is that he expected a home-cooked meal on the table.

Well, too fucking bad, he could tell the bitch that hung up on her to cook his dinner and Faith meant that from the bottom of her heart. She would no longer hop, jump, and skip when he told her to. It just wasn't happening.

Faith was well aware that there would be a price to pay and in her mind she was willing to pay it.

“A half an hour,” Faith said out loud, counting down the minutes before he arrived.

 

 

Faith thought back to the night they met on the beach and he saw her NA pamphlet. Raheem was kind enough not to judge or question her. What he did instead was ask her if she wanted him to go with her. Faith surprised herself by saying yes and together they found an open meeting that allowed outsiders to attend.

All Faith did that first night was cry while Raheem held her hand. After the meeting she went home with him and she never left. Now in her thirties, Faith realized that she'd never really been alone and on her own except for the time she ran away.

After she moved out from her aunt, she went from man to man, not allowing herself to get to know who she was as a person.

Could she make it on her own? Would she fall apart? Would she relapse or would she be the strong woman she tried to counsel other women to be? Faith sat on the couch and was dozing off when she felt someone touch her shoulders. She opened her eyes to find Raheem standing over her asking, “Where's my dinner?”

Faith didn't answer him immediately. She was trying to get up the nerve to say to what she wanted to say.

He looked toward the kitchen. “I asked you a question.”

Faith looked up at him and said, “Well, let me ask you a question. What bitch are you seeing now?”

Not one to deny or even try to play it off he said, “Listen, I don't have time for this shit. I had a long day at work. I'm here and hungry.”

“Answer my question, Raheem.” Faith was not going to let it go that easy. “How come every time I turn around, some skank is calling my house, breathing or hanging up in my ear?”

Raheem started walking toward the kitchen. “I'll fix myself a sandwich.”

Not willing to back down, Faith stepped in front of him. “Who is she?”

Raheem fixed his gaze on Faith. “I don't know what you're talking about. Ain't nobody calling this house. You're always starting this shit, every few months, Faith, and it's starting to wear on me. I'm getting tired of it. It has to end, or else.”

In the past when he would say something like that, it scared the hell out of her. She had a fear of being by herself and having to take of herself, but this time, she placed her hands on her hips and asked, “Or else what? Or else you're going to leave me?”

When he didn't answer her, Faith went on, “I'm getting tired of your empty threats. Say what you want to say, out with it.”

Raheem told Faith to step out of his way.

“Or what, you're going to hit me like you used to?” This time she wouldn't allow it, she would fight him if necessary.

“What the hell has gotten into you? You're losing it, Faith.” Raheem frowned. “Are you getting high again? Is that it? Are you coming down from a high and that's what's got you acting all bold and shit.”

She should have known he would throw that up in her face. “No, I'm not high, I'm not high at all, all I am is ready for a divorce.” She waited on a reaction and there was none. So she repeated it: “I want a divorce.”

Raheem sighed and moved past her. He walked into the kitchen with her following him. “Did you just say you want a divorce?”

“Yes.” Faith was not backing down. “Look at us, Raheem; I mean, really take a look, are we happy together? Are we really happy? Or are we just passing each other by, pretending to be in a marriage? We're not a couple, we're living separate lives.”