The First Lady's Choice

Chapter Eight

Stranger things have happened...

All of the promises William made to do better, to be there more, and to have my back have been nothing but promises. Broken promises at that because he has not kept a one of them. From the time I returned to Dallas after my father's funeral services until this very day, he has thrust back into full connection schedule. Hobnobbing with the bishop and his family, business trips to different areas, and so much more.

Due to my abundance of depression issues, I haven't been able to scrape up enough energy to fight about it. Nor have I bothered to point out his faults or the fact that he is truly neglectful of my needs. The sad part is I almost feel like a huge chunk of me died when my daddy died. My mother only wants to talk about me having babies when we do manage to catch up. That was a tender subject for me seeing as though I want to have a child so desperately.

My dear husband doesn't see things my way so that was next to impossible of accomplishing that goal. Not to mention that we haven't had sex since Florida. I tried to get my mojo back and tap back into my seductress persona but when he is hardly ever around, those plans get soiled easily. Here I sit in my little window seat overlooking our backyard, with a book in my lap, all alone for two more days.

My wonderful workers at the floral shop has kept everything running smoothly in my absence. My friends are trying to be patient in my abrupt conversations with them but even I know that will only last so long before they come beating down my door. Church life is the hardest chore that I am faced with. Constantly having to keep up a front as if I am coping with my loss. When in reality, that couldn't be further from the truth.

Smiles, nods, and supposedly comforting hugs is what I get every Sunday. They are all met with sincere gratitude but I'm seriously growing tired of the pitying looks. There is something else behind the eyes of the congregation. I can't get over the fact that it seems more than just feeling sorry for my mourning state of appearance. Seeing as though everyone is so closed lipped, I doubt I will ever really get to the bottom of the stares.

If I were honest with myself, I would say I really don't care too much. Whatever it is, it can't be that bad. A deep feeling of self-loathing is overpowering any other emotions at the moment anyway. I hate myself for being so selfish. All I seem to think about is my pitiful self. How I'm feeling, how I'm fairing, how I'm grieving, how unattractive I feel, and so on. It's all about me in my head and I hate it. I hate my life at this point. I hate my fake smile. I hate I have gained weight because all I do is eat, sleep, and sit. Something has got to give, but what and most importantly when? I pray it doesn't be too late.

~

"Hey, what are you doing here?" I answered the door. The persistent ringing of the doorbell was driving me crazy. Obviously the unannounced visiting person was not leaving until the land of the living answered.

"Good afternoon to you too sunshine," Tre beamed.

"I repeat, what are you doing here? Don't you have clients to hassle?"

"None of them are as important as the one I'm looking at right now."

"Excuse me," I hated I was being a bitch to one of my closest friends but I just wasn't feeling the banter right now.

"You're excused. Especially answering the door looking the way you do."

"Tre, don't make me curse you out."

"Such foul language coming from the preachers wife, now that sounds interesting. Tell me more."

"I swear you make me sick, what do you want boy!"

"I want you to move around so I can enter for one." Tre said nudging me out of the doorway and sauntering into the living room. "Second, go take a shower and make yourself presentable. Preferably in some workout gear."