Against the Odds: A Love Story

BOOK: Against the Odds: A Love Story
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Against The Odds

J. Adams

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Against the Odds 2
nd
Edition

Copyright
©
2011 J. Adams

Jewel of the West Publishing

All Rights Reserved

 

Cover
 
design
 
by Laura J Miller

anaurthorsart.com

 

T
o every woman who has ever reached for something better

and defied the odds to achieve it. This one is for you!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A heart is never truly restless until love enters the equation.

Of course, when this intense sentiment materializes,

odds are, you will find that the wretched internal organ

was only sleeping.

 

J.A.

Hard-won freedom is priceless

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Atlanta, GA

 

I
was angry. No, correction, I was livid! But more than anything, I was just plain tired.

“Sign them,” I said, tossing the folded divorce papers on the desk.

When Jerome looked up at me, I saw a mixture of incredulity, arrogance, and even a little sorrow play across his features. He stood and came around the desk.

“Raine,” he said, drawing out my name in the whiny way that had grown to be completely annoying a long time ago. “Come on, girl. You don't want to do this.”

I knew that same old tired line was coming, but it still amazed me that he was continuing to hang on, even when there was absolutely nothing left to hang on to. I stood silently for a moment, allowing my eyes to roam from his expensive Italian loafers, up his dark gray double-breasted three-piece suit, crisp white shirt and silk tie, finally resting my gaze on what I once thought was a handsome face.

I took in his smooth, dark skin and immaculately trimmed hair. Not able to help it, my thoughts went back to a time when I thought he was the most amazing black man in the world. I was eighteen, fresh out of high school, young and naive. He was smooth, he was sharp, and he was sexy.

None of these things should have been the basis for marriage, but sadly, for me they were. Oh, I knew it had been more lust than love. Still, when Jerome proposed to me over seven years ago during a candle-lit dinner in his Peachtree Towers office, I had accepted. I had been mesmerized by his money, his power, and his position, which he used to help me get into Zuri, one of the top modeling agencies in Atlanta. Everything seemed right with the world when I was with him. And he was pleased to have me adorning his arm at the many social functions we attended.

Through the years I grew to care about him very deeply. I thought I might even love him. Then came Jerome's first indiscretion, which as it turned out, was the beginning of the end for me. I forgave him for that act of infidelity. I even forgave him for the second one that occurred a year later. But this latest one . . . Shuniqua, this hoochie of a home-wrecker who I had even entertained at our backyard parties on several occasions, was more than I could stomach. I was tired of forgiving and forgetting. The forgiving fountain had run completely dry. I mean, good grief, we haven't even slept in the same bed in over six months because of his decision to seek intimacy elsewhere. Our sham of a marriage should have ended a long time ago. I had tried to end it, but Jerome kept holding on. Why, I didn't know. He sure made me feel worthless enough. All I seem to be good for now was decoration. In another few years my looks would begin to fade. Then what? I would most likely wait to be tossed aside like a worn pair of jeans that had seen better days. In some ways I felt like that now, worn and weary. He had used up the best of me, and I didn't know if there was much of me left to ever give to anyone else, or if I could even allow that to happen.

Pulling my mind forward, I sighed and tried to rid myself of the depressing thoughts. “You know what, Jerome? I
do
want to do this.” I tapped my manicured nails on the desk next to a framed photo of the two of us. It had been taken last year during a Caribbean vacation Jerome took me on to make up for his previous act of infidelity. To anyone who looked at the photo we looked like the perfect couple, so in love and so into each other. It was very deceiving. Our whole marriage had been a lie.

“Just sign the papers.”

He sat on the edge of the desk and reached for my hand. I moved away abruptly. “Come on now, Raine. You know that girl don't mean nothing to me.”

I couldn't stop the throaty chuckle from escaping me. “That girl, huh? Does Shuniqua know she's just that girl? Did you tell her straight up that she doesn't mean anything?” When he looked away, I added, “Humph. Well, I guess you had better tell her that. Only don't do it on my account, because this bank is closed.”

“Raine, you and I have been together a long time. We have too much history to just give up.”

I shifted my feet impatiently and began tapping a velvet black pump on the tile floor. “Give up what? There's nothing holy about this matrimony anymore. Your actions caused that term to wither away a long time ago, and I'm tired of letting things slide.”

I have always been good at keeping my voice level and my emotions in check. Through the years I  even managed to control the involuntary neck roll that usually accompanied my 'getting some attitude' emotion, but now all that practiced control was slipping, and the desire to rein it in was gone. Gone just like my feelings for him.

I pushed a long spiraled lock of hair behind my ear and placed my hands on my hips, slightly crinkling my designer suit.

“I'm tired, Jerome,” I repeated again. “I'm tired of playing Mrs. Jerome Edmunds. I'm ready to be Miss Raine Allen again.” I looked at him intently. “You know what? I've got proof. I've got lawyers. I've got the money and the time to take your sorry behind to the cleaners if I have to. So just sign the damn papers and let me be!”

Having said the magic phrase, namely the one to do with his money, I finally got the desired effect. I watched his shoulders sag in defeat as he picked the papers up from the desk. He took an expensive silver pen from his coat pocket–the silver pen I bought for him, I might add–flipped through the papers, and added his signature.

I sighed inwardly, a feeling of victorious freedom filling me, breathing life back into a heart that had been completely bled dry.

Jerome handed the papers to me, then sat back on the desk and folded his arms. “So, I guess your attorney will be in touch with mine to go over things.”

I folded the papers and put them in my purse. “Yes, he will.”

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes roaming the length of me. “I'm sorry, Raine. I messed up . . . I'm sorry.”

“So am I.”

He rubbed his smooth chin. “What are your plans now?”

I smiled and walked to the door, pausing with my hand on the knob. “Caroline and David McKade have invited me to come out and spend some time with them.”

He grinned. “So you're going to just leave everything and move to New Mexico? Girl, give me a break. That's white man's land for sure. You'll be back here before you know it. That ain't your kind of life.”

I turned back to face him fully. “Have you forgotten Caroline and David
are
white? Their skin color never seemed to matter to you when you were handling some of their investments.”

“That's because money is the same color no matter whose hand it's in.”

I shook my head but didn't comment. I wasn't about to touch that one.

“What about your mama? You know she's going to have a fit.”

“Mama will understand.” I snorted. “I'm sure of that.” I again turned to leave.

“Well, what about your contract with Zuri?”

You're reaching, Jerome,
I mused. “I only have a few months left and I'm done.” I looked at him intently. “Completely.”

“So, this is how it's gonna be, huh? No hug or kiss goodbye?”

“You gave all of that up the moment you went to Shuniqua's bed.”

“Why you being so cold?”

I again shook my head and opened the door. “Have a good life, Jerome. If you can that is.”

“Don't worry, I will. You just go on running from yours.”

I chuckled inwardly, thinking how quickly he'd mashed out his earlier apology. “I'm not running
from
my life, Jerome. I'm running to it.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Change is an adventure.

 

 

 

 

 

One

Six months later

Roswell, New Mexico

I
can't believe I'm really in
alien
territory,” I joked, sitting across from Caroline.

She laughed and handed me a glass of cold lemonade. “Yeah, right. The closest we ever get to aliens is when some of the ranch hands come back to work after a weekend of drinking and carousing around the valley. They're usually so green, they look like aliens. And just between you and me, that's when David slams the bunkhouse door the hardest.”

I smiled, loving her sense of humor. “It serves them right.” Sighing, I sipped my lemonade. “I've missed you so much, Caroline.”

“I've missed you too, Raine. I've even missed Atlanta a little, if you can believe that.” She smiled. “We hated moving, but when David's father died, the ranch went to David and his brother, Hayden, so we had to leave. I'm sure Hayden could have handled the place alone, but it was half David's responsibility too, and he felt obligated to come.” She gazed out of the kitchen window across the land. “Now I'm glad we came. I love it here.”

I quietly stared out the window as my thoughts drifted back to the first time I met Caroline and David. Jerome was hosting a party at his office for both his new, and perspective clients. Caroline and David were in the process of making a final decision about Jerome's company handling some of their investments. They were being wined and dined by Jerome and his staff to solidify the deal. I connected with Caroline immediately and we were soon the best of friends.

Jerome and I saw quite a bit of the couple after that. Though Jerome and David had nothing in common, they got along well and the friendship was good. Good that is until David and Caroline moved away, taking their money with them. Caroline and I remained close, but Jerome had no use for them after that. Of course that was always the way with Jerome.

Pulling my thoughts to the present, I stared at Caroline for a moment, taking in her youthful, motherly smile. There were streaks of gray in her dark hair and deep lines appeared around her blue eyes when she smiled, but she had gained an earthy beauty that wasn't there before. And it only added to the regal gracefulness she had always possessed. “I think this life suits you,” I finally said.

“Well, what about you?” she asked with a grin. “You've only been here for a week and just look at you! With that beautiful curly mane of yours pulled back and you walking around in Wranglers and boots, girl, you're already wearing this life well, too.”

Grinning, I looked down at my hands. After a week of helping Caroline with work around the house, my perfect manicure wasn't perfect anymore. Gone were the designer clothes and shoes. They were now replaced by feminine plaid shirts, t-shirts, jeans, and western boots. Also gone was the heavy makeup. Now my light brown eyes were only adorned with a little eyeliner and mascara, and my lips touched with clear gloss.

After studying these changes in the mirror earlier that morning, I decided I liked them. I liked them a lot. Having been a very busy model for five years and being made up daily, this more natural look was a refreshing change for me. Besides, walking away from that life was no sacrifice. I had done well. Now I was done, period.

Most of the people in Atlanta who knew me couldn't believe or understand my decision to leave it all and walk away. Sometimes I still found it hard to believe myself. To everyone that knew me, I had everything. And for a short while, I believed that as well.
All my life I had dreamed of being a model. I wanted the glamor and the glitz that came with it. Not to mention the money. But I never dreamed of the complications that would come with that life. When I was younger I thought,
This is how I'm going to make my mark on the world
. Had it been worth it? Maybe. Had it brought me happiness? Some. But in the grand scheme of things, I knew now that none of it mattered. It was all really insignificant to what was really important. A family, something I could call my own. That's what was important to me. I thought I'd had that with Jerome. As unfaithful as he had been, I had been willing to keep trying. But it turned out that those things weren't important to him. Truthfully, I think I had known that all along, but I let myself be strung along for the ride because of what a life with him would give me. A supposed family and financial security. I thought I could have it all, but it eventually became too much. The lies and deceit had drowned what feelings I had for him and washed them away like a sandcastle on a beach. I finally grew up.

I again looked down at my hands. I thought about Jerome and couldn't help but smile as I contemplated what he would think if he saw me now. I would get a kick out of his reaction to be sure. His black Barbie doll was history.

Caroline must have read my thoughts in my expression. “Raine, that man is a horse's hind end to treat you the way he did. I think if he was here now, I'd strap him to the back of one and let it drag his tail up and down this valley. Goodness knows he deserves it.”

I covered my mouth and laughed out loud. “The closest you will ever get Jerome to a horse is watching a race from the comfort of his leather recliner. And that's only if he has a bet riding on it.”

She chuckled a moment, shaking her head, her straight hair tumbling around her shoulders. Then she sobered and looked at me intently. “So, how are you really?” she asked earnestly.

“I'm doing okay. You know it had been a long time coming. Our marriage was over long before I got his John Hancock on the papers.”

“I know. And I keep thinking that in a way, it's good you didn't have any children.”

“I do, too,” I agreed with a sigh. “But it wasn't from lack of trying, at least on my part.”

“I know that, too.” Caroline took a drink from her glass. “Maybe it wasn't in the cards for you and Jerome. Or, maybe it just wasn't the time.”

“Well, either way, I can see now that a child wouldn't have made much difference in our relationship. As much as I wanted to be a mother, and still want to be one day, it sure wouldn't be good for a child to be in this situation now, being pulled back and forth between divorced parents. I know it happens, but it's still a sad way to grow up.”

We sat for a moment in silence as I pondered that thought. Truthfully, I really did feel grateful now that there were no kids between us. As unfaithful as Jerome had been in our marriage, any child of ours would most likely have a brother or sister or two running around somewhere in Atlanta. That would have been all I needed. To have one of Jerome's illegitimate children knocking on my door one day looking for his
daddy
.

I closed my eyes and shook my head as feelings of anger slowly entered me again. “Unfaithful jerk!” I muttered softly.

Caroline's snicker pulled me from my thoughts. “All right, girl. Come back to Roswell.”

I smiled. “I'm here. Just doing some therapeutic reminiscing. Purely therapy.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Opening one's eyes can clear the view.

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