Whoever keeps their mouth closed, keeps their self out of trouble.
But iron sharpens iron and women sharpen one another. I must be the dullest knife in the bunch, or maybe the sharpest keeping secrets that I knew could kill.
“He filed for divorce. I think he wants to be with other women.” She posted in a Facebook group.
I saw her post. “Other women?” I thought. “Close but no cigar.” I kept scrolling.
I could tell her, if she were MY friend, but she’s not. She’s “OUR friend”, a “marriage friend”, which means that our friendship was built on the context that she is friends with not only me but my husband as well. So there are rules and the golden rule of “marriage friends” says “Stay out of MY marriage and I stay out of YOURS’.”
We BBQ during the summer and have game night during the winter but there are lines in our friendships that are never crossed.
So when I asked my husband “Are we going to tell her?”, he paused the Notre Dame game and looked at me like I was stupid. “Hell no” he said. It is none of our business.
How could the man I married tell me to keep this secret? He must not remember who he fell in love with?
I parked at the local Lowe’s where he worked. He didn’t notice me parked on the side of the building, watching. I noticed this man park beside me. He caught my eye because his stature reminded me of my husband. I automatically looked at his left ring finger as he got out of the car and noticed his ring.
“His wife is winning” I thought.
He was good looking and from outside appearances seemed to have it all together. Nice car. Nice clothes. In shape. He looked like Jesse Williams. He didn’t go inside the store though, he walked over to the Garden section that was empty.
“That must be him” I thought.
The next thing I knew, they were kissing. I felt sick to my stomach because my source was right. She already told me who he was and about their meet ups on the side of the building Thursdays at noon.
“This is wrong” I thought. “But my husband told me to mind my business”. Thank goodness for Iphones, I took a picture.
I interrupted my husband watching the game that night.
“This game is good” he said, frustrated with me. I am not talking about this again.
“Notre Dame loses every week” I said, “this is important”.
“What Juju?” he asked. “Just stop thinking about it, it will go away.”
“You don’t understand”, I said. “She knows something is up, she posted it in the marriage group on Facebook. I can’t imagine not knowing. What if he gives her something?”
“Mind your business.” He said. “I ain’t gay and you are good. Leave it alone.”
He turned the game back on. Notre Dame lost.
I logged onto Facebook and looked at her page. She just posted a picture of her two daughters. One had a birthday party and it was so cute. I loved the way they co-parented. Even though they were separated, her husband threw the most amazing Beyonce-inspired birthday party for their 7 year old daughter. Every detail was on point.
“How could she not know?” I thought. “I wish he could throw me a Beyonce party like that for my 30th birthday”. I felt guilty for having that thought but the pictures were amazing. I wish I were invited.
My source called me the next week. “Girl, you missed it.”
“Missed what?” I asked.
“His wife came into the store and had to be escorted out by police.” She said.
“What? What are you talking about?” I asked confused.
“She stormed to the flooring department with a piece of paper and smacked him with a wood sample. She was screaming about her blood work results. I don’t know the whole story. By the time I came out the breakroom, the police were already there.” My source told the story like it was some sort of ratchet Mediatakeout story.
I felt crushed because I knew her, and her daughters.
My husband got home that night before me so he didn’t notice when I arrived and I overheard him talking to Barry, our friend. I don’t know what Barry was saying but I heard my husband say he wasn’t snitching on the next man. When he noticed me in the doorway, his whole demeanor shifted and he hung up with Barry.
I walked into the room and went straight to the restroom. All of a sudden, I heard my husband’s phone ring.
“Hey” he said. “I can’t talk right now.”
I walked out the bathroom, asking who that was. He rolled his eyes and told the truth.
“What did he want?” I asked.
“His wife was arrested for domestic violence and I guess he wanted to tell me his side.” He said.
“Bad company ruins good morals” I told him. “Anything you want to tell me?”
For the first time during our marriage, my husband looked afraid.