200 Letters

By Amy Watkins

200 Letters is an inspirational romance suspense novel that follows two people, Angela and Ethan, as they try to escape abusive relationships. Their paths cross and their friendship quickly develops into a steamy romance. However, the tainted lovers from their past scheme in an attempt to break up the happy couple. This scheming leads to an unjust incarceration during which letters are written between the couple to motivate each other. It is through those letters they gain spiritual enlightenment and discernment which helps them discover who was really behind all the schemes. The book uses biblical scripture and relates it to modern life. Based on true events, it uncovers the ill effects of social injustice, mass incarceration, and prejudice. This page turner not only entertains but also mentally and spiritually challenges. Winner of a 2020 Readers' Favorite Award.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amy Watkins
• Release date: Jan 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9781736296004

Amy Watkins

Amy Watkins is a Washington, D.C. native who received an undergraduate degree from Frostburg State University and a medical degree from University of Maryland, Baltimore. She served in the US Navy for eight years. She currently works as a family medicine physician for the Navy. She identifies as a Nondenominational Christian and is an active member in her church in which she volunteers with the dance and flag ministries. She is also a strong supporter of equality for all, coexistence, and eliminating prejudice ideology. She currently resides in Virginia with her three children, her lifetime partner, and an adopted dog.

Book preview

200 Letters

By Amy Watkins

Dedication

Though this book is not based on a true story, but some of the events in this book were inspired by true events. This book is dedicated to the many people who are unfairly prejudged, imprisoned, enslaved, and condemned. This is for the imperfect Christian who wonders, Is God still there?

Do not be afraid of what you are about to suffer. I tell you, the devil will put some of you in prison to test you, and you will suffer persecution for ten days. Be faithful, even to the point of death, and I will give you life as your victor's crown. (Revelation 2:10 NIV)

Love never fails…1 Corinthians 13:8 (NIV)

Chapter 1 – Ethan

It was the Spring of 2011 in Northern Virginia when my wife of eleven years approached me and admitted, I’m in love with another man.  I was hurt, stunned even, but I didn’t want to show any emotion.

Well, okay, we know what we need to do, was my only response.

Deidra was a beautiful woman. Five foot five with an athletic build, she was of mixed ethnicity—Indian and Jamaican. Deidra was a little sassy and a little sweet, which is what I liked most about her.  We had one daughter together, Cierra, who had just turned 5 and was the perfect mixture of us both. Cierra had my almond shaped brown eyes and her mother’s smooth dark chocolate skin. She had my nose and her mother’s smile. She had her mom’s sass and my goofiness. Cierra’s hair was a full mane of loose curls, the perfect mixture of my thick, tight curly hair and her mom’s long, straight dark hair.

I counted myself lucky to have been married to Deidra all those years, but we had been on rocky ground for the last three. We tried to keep it together for Cierra but we both knew it wasn’t working. We were young when we got married and I was immature. I had an I’m the man, I don’t have to answer to anyone attitude. Deidra wanted me to check in and check up on her throughout the day, but I felt like I didn’t need a babysitter and neither did she. So, Deidra sought attention elsewhere. First, she focused on her girlfriends instead of our marriage, which led to more arguments. She cheated on me. I cheated on her. Then she met Tony and they fell in love.

I tried not to fall apart as I helped her pack up her belongings and moved her and Cierra two states away to live with the man who gave her the affection I had not. The divorce was amicable, so when the papers were all signed, I focused on the bright side. After all, I was back in the game and there were plenty of fish in the sea.

I worked as a corpsman for the Navy and everyone knows how girls love a guy in uniform. I stood all day at work and hit the gym several days a week, so I had a nice muscular build. I held a management position at the Naval Health Clinic. I had a wide circle of friends and a lot of girls who wanted to be my friend. I was the guy who anyone could go to with a problem and I’d solve it fairly and immediately. I was upbeat, happy, and always joking. I got along with most of my coworkers and I never got myself mixed up in petty drama.

A few weeks after Deidra left, I was walking the halls of the clinic when I was notified of a new provider. She had recently transferred from another clinic and my chief wanted me to check on her and see if she needed any help getting settled.

I walked toward the provider’s office when Ty, one of my junior sailors, met me in the hallway. Ty was a good guy who loved to joke around even more so than I did. He had a huge smile on his face when he greeted me.

Hey, boss man. Have you met the new doc yet?

I’m on my way to see her now.

She seems cool.

Ok, I said and walked into her office. I froze the second I saw her. A tall redbone with a pretty smile stood before me. Her long curly hair was pinned up in a bun. Her beauty rendered me speechless. The energy she gave off was inviting. She had an around-the-way-girl type of vibe. When her light brown eyes met mine, I felt warmth and a little flutter in my chest.

Hi! she cheerfully greeted me.

I choked up a little but managed to pull myself together to respond, Good morning, my name is HM1 Conner and I’m the manager for this section.

I’m Dr. Wallace and it’s nice to meet you, she replied, extending her hand.

I gave her a nice firm handshake, trying to show her that I was a strong secure man.

Welcome to the Health Clinic. If there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to let me know. Do you need anything? I sputtered.

She bit her lips to hide her grin. No, I’m good.

Oh, um, okay. Well, I will stop by and speak with you later when your day slows down so I can make sure everything is going smoothly.

I was intrigued by her and my mind raced after I left her office. I wondered who she was and where she came from. I wondered if I sounded corny to her. I wondered if she knew that I was attracted to her. I hoped I made the impression that I was professional and mature. I didn’t want her to think I was some horny little knucklehead.

Ty stood at the door, smiling at me like he knew what I was thinking.

Hey, does this mean you will be stopping by here more often? he asked jokingly.

Um, no. I will be as professional with Dr. Wallace as I am with all the other providers on this team, I assured him—but he wasn’t buying it.

Uh, huh. Sure, you will, he snickered.

Later that afternoon, I stopped by just as I told her I would. Dr. Wallace, how’s everything going so far?  Is the staff treating you good? Are you getting settled?

She gave a little nod. So far, so good. No complaints.

Here let me give you my number just in case you need anything later.

Okay, she gave me her phone so that I could enter my number.

And I need your number too. I mean for the clinic…for the roster. You know, in case there’s an emergency, the clinic needs to be able to reach you. I fumbled my words, hoping she didn’t take my asking for her number the wrong way. I really did need it for the clinic and I didn’t want her to feel awkward.

She didn’t bat an eye. She called my phone, There, now you have my number too.

We talked a little about work before we parted ways. She was nice. She smiled a lot. She laughed at my corny jokes. I sensed there was a connection, but I did not want to assume anything.

Every day for the next couple of weeks, I made sure to take a detour so that I passed by Dr. Wallace’s office. Ty caught on quickly. Whenever he saw me coming, he would smile and give me a hard time.

What you up to HM1? Ty asked.

Nothing. Just making my rounds.

Mmm, hmm. Don’t remember your rounds being three trips down this hallway every day. I might not be the smartest man, but I believe you are taking a liking to my doctor, he said sarcastically.

Listen here, little man. I like to get to know my staff members and I like to check on them and make sure they are okay.

Ty didn’t buy it; he kept up the wisecracks. Oh really, so that’s why you keep coming by?  You check on Dr. Gray and Dr. Weinstein like that, as well?  Drs. Gray and Weinstein were both middle aged male doctors and he knew I didn’t check on them as much as I did Dr. Wallace.

Mind your business, this here’s for grown folks, I replied.

I tried to hide my enthusiasm from Ty, but I was enjoying my conversations with Dr. Wallace. I could tell she was a beautiful woman, inside and out. Our brief conversations left me wanting to know more about her.

One day, she was walking down the hallway ahead of me and I couldn’t help but stare at her plump ass in that khaki uniform. I thought she was gorgeous and thought of how good we would look together. I was mesmerized by the sway in her hips. I imagined palming them in my hands as I made love to her. She looked back at me and caught me staring. I tried to play it off by looking away. She giggled.

I wanted her bad, but I had to snap out of it. The reality was I was enlisted and she was an officer. It was against Navy policy for us to date. I had to talk myself out of pursuing her, Come on, Ethan. Don’t risk your career, or hers. You are a professional. Continue to be professional.

What’s more, I wasn’t sure if Dr Wallace was single. I asked Ty but he wasn’t sure either. He did know that she had just broken up with the father of her child and she was a little sour on men. Pursuing her was out of the question but I couldn’t stop thinking about being with her.

I tried to play it cool. I limited how many times I stopped by her office. I kept the conversations we did have light. Occasionally, I’d get a little personal, but not too personal. Sometimes I’d drop a hint that I was single and thought she was beautiful. I wanted to see if she’d take the bait and maybe even try to pursue me—she never did. I’m not sure if she saw through my game or not; but I ran with it.

On top of that, Ty was always cock-blocking. I stopped by one day and he stood outside her door with his arms folded. I tried to push past him and go into her office.

Step aside, young blood. I’m tryna see my girl.

He laughed, Your girl? Not today, partna!

Ty, why you drinking hatorade?

What you talking ‘bout? We have work to do today. No socializing. Plus, MY doctor is having a bad day.

She may be your doctor but she’s MY future wife. Just give me a few minutes with her, I’ll cheer her up. I joked as I pushed past him. Ty just shook his head and grinned.

Hi, Dr. Wallace, how goes it? I asked.

Not bad. Just busy, like always,

Well, hopefully your day gets better. Don’t let the bull get you down. Remember, I’m here for you if you need.

She smiled, but I could tell she was stressed. She was not as bubbly as usual. I really wanted to stay and cheer her up with my goofy lines, but I knew she had work to do. Providers at the clinic stayed busy. I made a mental note to stop by and check on her later. I wanted to make sure she was okay.

See, I told ya, Ty snarked when I left.

Don’t worry. I will check on her later and work my magic. I responded, doing a little goofy dance.

What magic, old man?

Oh, I’m an old man, huh?  Well, watch your mouth and respect your elders, then I chuckled while walking away.

Later that day I stopped by her office, but she was gone.

Damn, you again, Ty said while laughing. She left early today so you are out of luck, light bright.

First of all, I’m a mocha-choca-latte complexion. And secondly, she forgot to stop by to let me know she was leaving early like she usually does, I said jokingly.

Come on man, you know she’s out of your league.

I shook my head. Mark my words, she will be my woman before you know it. All I need is to take her out on one date and she will fall in love.

Ty began to laugh hysterically, but I was serious. I played it off by laughing with him as I walked away, but in my head, I was thinking of ways to make her mine.

A week later, I decided I was going to take a step out on faith. I planned to walk into her office and ask her out for coffee. I had to rehearse my lines because I didn’t want to seem crazy or pushy. I had to think of ways to get around it if she brought up our differences in rank. Oh, no. What, you thought I meant on a date? Nah, I was just tryna see if you wanted to go out as friends, is what I thought of saying if she refused my advance.

I got a haircut the evening before. My uniform was freshly pressed, and I splashed on my favorite cologne.

As I walked up to her office, Ty was walking out. Hey, what are you doing here? he asked.

I’m here to ask your doctor out, I said smiling.

He laughed as if I was playing, but after a few seconds he realized I was serious.

You serious? he asked.

Hell yeah! I said. It’s time for me to make a move. Now or never.

Well, I don’t think that’s a good idea now, he shook his head.

What do you mean? I asked curiously.

Just not a good idea. You feel me? Ty cautioned.

I realized I was missing something and should heed Ty’s advice. There could have been several reasons for Ty’s warning, but the one that popped in my head was she must be dating someone else. I knew I wasn’t the only one who wanted her. She was a remarkable woman and probably had suitors more successful than I. Then again, she had been hurt before. I’m sure there were some wolves in sheep’s clothing after her as well. Maybe Ty was just trying to protect her.

Look, Ty, here me out. I’m really just trying to ask her out for coffee. You know?  Just a little friendly outing.

You’re too late, he said. She is dating someone. I don’t know if it’s anything serious, to be honest, but she in there talking to him right now.

Thanks for the heads up and I appreciate you looking out. I replied, feeling defeated. Walking away, I wondered if that was my sign to stay away. I wasn’t sure, but I decided to back off and focus on my career.

I was disappointed by the missed opportunity with Dr. Wallace, but it was cool. I wasn’t really looking for a serious relationship. However, my feelings changed when I met Tony.

I was picking Cierra up from Deidra’s house and there he was—this tall, muscular, brown, smooth brother with a baritone voice. Until that moment I had thought I was over Deidra, but I realized I was not the minute I laid eyes on him. I was even more devastated when I saw a large diamond ring on Deidra’s finger. It was twice the size of the ring I had bought for her. She seemed happy, so I faked like I was happy for her. In actuality, I wanted her to feel the pain I felt.

After that, I was on the prowl. I wanted someone sexy, sassy, freaky, and high maintenance; someone who would make Deidra cringe with jealousy when they met. And It didn’t take me long to find the perfect woman for the job.

Tracy was a medical assistant who also worked at the clinic. Short and curvy, she was cute, sweet, and sassy. Her mom was White and her dad Black, so she had a beautiful light complexion with freckles on her nose and cheeks. Her eyes were green and she had long brown hair with loose curls. She was always styling and profiling. Her make up, hair, and nails were always done. She always wore designer clothes. She was sexy, stylish, and cool. She wasn’t cool like Dr. Wallace, but she was gorgeous. When she started flirting with me, I thought it was in my best interest to flirt back. We started dating and were soon fucking.

Even though I was seeing Tracy, things were not official with us, so I continued to stop by and speak with Dr. Wallace. We talked about everything from work to politics to religion. A friendship developed. She would sometimes talk about this guy Terrell that she was dating, and I’d sometimes talk about Tracy. We respected each other and we were comfortable enough to be open and honest about everything. Well, almost everything. I still wanted Dr. Wallace. I kept that little secret from her, but we were honest about everything else.

Then, one day when we were talking about the drama at work, I had a bold moment.

Could you ever see yourself with a guy like me; I mean, if the situation was different? I asked.

She nodded. Yes, I could date a guy like you. We have a lot in common and get along well. The discussions we have about politics, religion, and family values are intriguing. She peered at me through lowered lashes. You’re intriguing. 

I liked that answer and I slipped, saying what I was thinking out loud. Damn, where have you been all my life? I smiled and laughed, trying to play it off like it was a joke; but I really meant it.

Probably somewhere with the wrong guy, she said, but she wasn’t smiling. She was hurting like she was reliving memories of men in the past who had done her wrong. I wanted to kiss her and hold her and show her that I could be a good man to her, but I was dating Tracy and Dr. Wallace was with Terrell.       

Chapter 2 – Angela

Who the fuck left this paper on the stairs?! Terrell yelled as soon as he walked through the front door. David! he bellowed. I don’t know where my husband went that evening, but I sure knew when he got home. Every day with Terrell was always something. If he wasn’t yelling at me, he was yelling at the kids. If he wasn’t yelling at someone, he sat in a dark room in the basement, not talking to anyone.

For five years, I endured my husband’s mood swings.  I had fallen out of love with him long ago. but I hung onto our marriage, praying and hoping God would change Terrell’s heart.  After each fight, Terrell claimed he was a changed man who would do any and everything to be a better for me and our kids. But it never failed, after about two weeks he would be back to the angry man I had come to know.

David, my oldest son, Terrell’s stepson, got bullied the most. David was a very easy-going thirteen-year-old. He kept to himself and never caused trouble. He didn’t make a lot of noise, didn’t get upset easily, and forgave almost as much as I did. Despite his calm nature, or maybe because of it, Terrell loved to use David as a scapegoat. Last week, Terrell was mad at David for picking up some papers that were not his. Now, he was mad that he did not move this piece of paper off the stairs, even though it was not his. No one could win when Terrell was on a rampage. It didn’t matter what we did.

Terrell! I interrupted, It’s eleven o’clock at night. David is sleeping. He has school and I have work tomorrow. Please, go to bed. 

Me and Terrell hadn’t slept in the same bed since the first year of our marriage. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to sleep with my husband—I longed to, but he viewed holding me at night as a chore and an inconvenience. So, he’d stay up all night in the basement watching tv and smoking weed while I slept in the master bedroom.

I don’t give a fuck!  He needs to learn to pick up after himself. If you can’t teach him, I WILL!  he yelled. Of course, Terrell didn’t care that we had work and school the next day because he did not have a job. He quit his job a little over year ago because it was too stressful, and I had been supporting us by myself ever since. I had hoped that he would be less stressed and be more tolerable to live with. However, he just got worse.

Ah! Go to bed. I said, It’s not that big of a deal.

Not that big of a deal?  Not that big of a deal?!  It is a big deal that you have a thirteen-year-old that can’t take care of himself.  He can’t pick up after himself, and you think you are doing a good job raising him?  The boy can’t even brush his own hair… Terrell went on and on. I had developed a strategy for when he got like this. I tuned him out. I sat down on the couch and focused on a spot on the wall while he continued fussing. Over and over in my mind, I just talked to God and gave myself reassurance. Lord, please protect me. Lord please keep me calm. Angela, it’s okay; just ignore him. Don’t let him get to you. All things are possible through God who strengthens me. God, you can change a king’s heart, surely you can change Terrell’s.

Angela, are you fucking listening to me? Terrell interrupted my thoughts. I heard him but I just stayed focused on the wall and didn’t respond.

He took the cigarette from his mouth and flung it on me. Even though it landed on my neck, I just brushed it off and continued to stare at the wall.

You act so fucking stupid, he growled. Then he hocked a loogie and spit it at me. Most of it got lost in his long free-formed dread locks but some of it landed on my left arm and face. I jumped to my feet, angry, upset, and hurt. I wiped off the spit and looked at him sternly, my fists clenched and ready. He laughed, "Oh, now you wanna listen. You’re fucking stupid."

You spit in my face, I sneered, and you flung a cigarette on me?  A cigarette I bought you?

Whatever. That shit ain’t hurt you. You the one who ignoring me. So, I had to do something. Ain’t that shit in the Bible?  Respect your husband. You one of them fake Christians, I see. Sheeeee-it. he stomped away shaking his head.

For years, he often used my Christianity to guilt me into staying with him. He also used it to justify his abuse of me and the kids. He was raised Catholic, so he knew some about the Bible. I was just starting to pursue God when I met Terrell, and he used that to his advantage. He misquoted or misinterpreted Bible scripture saying things like, You are to obey me; it says it in the Bible, and, If you leave me you will be turning away from God because God hates divorce. He also used, You shall not spare the rod, when I thought his discipline with the kids was excessive. And if he hit me and I refused to forgive him, he’d say things like, See, I have repented for my sins. So, if you don’t forgive me, you will go to hell.

His words were harsh and wrong; but oddly enough, it brought me so much closer to God. His rants prompted me to read the Bible for myself and see what God really said and meant. I wasn’t raised in the church. My dad was agnostic, and my mom was spiritual but not religious. And my stepdad was Christian twice a year, Christmas, and Easter, because those are the only two times he went to church.

Yes, women are supposed to honor and obey their husbands, but their husbands are supposed to love their wives and treat them with gentleness and respect (Ephesians 5:28 and 1 Peter 3:7). Discipline of a child is warranted but excessive discipline is harmful (Ephesians 6:4). Abuse is wrong (Psalm 11:5-6, James 1:19-20, Proverbs 19:19, Hebrews 12:5-11). Verbal abuse is just as harmful as physical (Proverbs 12:18, Ephesians 4:29-32, Proverbs 10:11, Matthew 5:21-22, Romans 3:13). God loves us and does not want us to be in an abusive relationship (Psalms 72:14, 1 Corinthians 7:15). God actually instructs us to stay away from abusive people (Proverbs 22:10, Ecclesiastes 7:26, Proverbs 22:24, 2 Timothy 3:1-5).

It is unfortunate that these principals are not taught in most churches. Instead, we are instructed to stay with our husbands no matter what. We are instructed to pray and have faith. We are instructed that if God wants us delivered, He will do it; but we should never pursue divorce. And for years, I was taught that and believed that. I prayed and had faith for many years, yet nothing ever changed. As I read the Bible for myself and as I continued to deal with Terrell’s abuse, my beliefs started to mature.

Yes, for most marriages we are to pray, have faith, and fight persistently for the perseverance of the marriage. However, there is an exception—when the marriage causes us, our spouse, or our children significant harm. Then survival takes precedence over the marriage.

See that’s why no one wants you, Terrell teased. You’re good for a fuck but nothing else.

I can’t believe you spit on me; you bitch!  You’re not a man!  You’re nothing!  Gonna spit on the one who takes care of you. Even dogs know not to bite the hand that feeds them.

He turned around and charged at me, What? What the fuck did you just say to me?! He got in my face, yelling at the top of his lungs, dread locks flying all around his head and spit flying out of his mouth. He held his right hand high and pointed it down at me for emphasis. I was livid. I was hurt. I was afraid.  I wanted him to shut the fuck up and get out of my face.

I smacked him. It wasn’t a strong slap. It was only meant to get his attention. "You are not going to talk to me like that."  I firmly said, hoping that this would defuse the situation. I hoped he would finally see I meant business. Today, that slap meant not to fuck with me, but it only made him angrier.

He clenched both hands around my neck and pushed me down on the ground. He straddled me and began strangling me while yelling all kinds of obscenities. It wasn’t the first time he’d wrapped his hands around my neck; but God willing it would be the last.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t yell for help. I struggled and clawed at his hands, kicking my legs, and praying to get free. I grabbed ahold of his thumbs and pulled them backward, a self-defense technique I learned in high school. It was enough that he lost his grip on my neck and I was able to break free. I ran upstairs to our bedroom and slammed the door, leaning against it to keep him out. The last time this happened, I warned him I would call the police if he ever put his hands on me again. I pressed the nine. Terrell was at the door kicking and yelling. I pressed the one.  Terrell kicked some more and while I pressed one a second time, Terrell succeeded in breaking the door’s frame and kicked it in. He charged into the room and knocked the phone out of my hand.

Get out! I screamed, Get out!  I called the fucking cops. That’s the last time you’re ever gonna put your hands on me.

All the noise woke up the kids. I heard our two-year-old son Aaron crying from his bedroom. Abigail, our five-year-old, stood in the broken doorway yelling, Daddy, please stop. Don’t hurt mommy! Lana, our pit bull, just sat there, not knowing what to do. She never got in the middle when Terrell and I fought.

You ain’t called shit.  Terrell said as he grabbed my hands and wrestled me down to the ground again. He had a strong hold on both my wrists as he straddled me.

Let go of me. Let go! I yelled as I clawed at his hands, trying to get away again.

He let go just enough to punch me in the face. I saw stars and his hands pinned my wrists again.

Stop! he yelled, Calm down. I’m not letting you go till you calm down.

I scratched at his wrists hoping to free myself. I tried to bite his forearm and he punched me again.

Stop. You bite me or scratch me, you get punched.

Let me go! Let. Me. GO!

Punch. A third blow to the face. I’m not letting you go until you say you are not going to call the cops.

I looked up and saw all three children standing at the doorway, staring, unsure what they should do.

Call the cops! I yelled at them.

Don’t call the cops, he interjected. Punch. Punch. I’m not letting you go until you stop.

Fine! I surrendered, I won’t call the cops. Please, just let me go!

Punch. My vision went black for a brief moment. Terrell loosened his grip to get a closer look at me and I used it as an opportunity to break free. I grabbed the phone as I ran out the door. I ran downstairs, but he was too close behind me. He grabbed my hair from behind and threw me to the ground.

Okay, stop. Stop! Please. I surrender. I said as I kneeled holding my hands up and putting my head down.

He grabbed me by my wrist, picked me up, and dropped me headfirst onto the ground. I heard the crack when my head hit.  I was dazed and shocked. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. I no longer heard what was going on around me. I didn’t notice someone knocking on our front door. I touched my head to see if it was bleeding. I pressed again to see if my skull was broken. I could feel the side of my head starting to swell. I barely noticed when Terrell stomped toward the front door.

He came back followed by three police officers. I heard him talking to the cops about how I hit him first, demanding that I be arrested. I was still sitting on the floor dazed and repeatedly touching my head and looking for blood.

Officer Jameson was the first through the door. I recognized him from previous visits. He was growing increasingly tired of responding to our domestic disputes and became less understanding with each call. Jameson told the second officer to get my statement then instructed a female officer to sit with my kids.

You’re pretty, Abigail said to the female officer as she escorted them upstairs. Abigail had always been a charmer. Kind, caring, and empathetic. She saw the beauty in almost every situation, but she no longer saw the beauty in her mom and dad staying together. She’d said to me on numerous occasions, Mom, you need to leave daddy and get a new husband.  I didn’t have the heart to tell her life is never that simple.

Leaving would have been disastrous for me. You see, the house we lived in was solely in my name. I paid all the bills as well as all the child support for my husband’s two other children. Any extra money went to whatever my husband felt he needed—cigarettes, alcohol, a night out with his boys. I got so tired of hearing him fuss and fight about how his needs were not being met that I just started to give him everything. I had nothing left for myself. I couldn’t afford a lawyer and I couldn’t afford to leave.

If I left, I’d have to continue to pay for two houses—this one and a new one. I couldn’t leave my house and let it go into foreclosure because that would ruin my credit. My job depended on my credit. I had served as a doctor in the military. I separated from the military in 2015 and became a civilian working for the military. It was the same job in the same clinic, only I didn’t have to wear a uniform or deploy. My job required a security clearance, so I’d get fired if my credit tanked. I would also get fired if I went to jail.

Plus, the law in Virginia stated it was considered abandonment if you left your house. You could be penalized in a court of law, especially during a divorce. Terrell knew this and refused to leave.

The law in Virginia also stated you could not kick your spouse out of the house or change the locks. So, I couldn’t do that either.

I asked Terrell for a divorce multiple times and he always refused. He promised to sue me for alimony and for the house if I ever decided to file for divorce. Because we live and I work in Virginia—and because I am working, and he is not—he would be entitled to those benefits. I couldn’t afford alimony and raise three kids by myself. I couldn’t even afford a lawyer to represent me in court. I was stuck.

For years, I prayed for answers and patiently waited for the Lord to either provide a way out or change Terrell into the good man he had the potential to be. I had lost all hope for Terrell but still had hope in the Lord. I went to church. I fasted. I remained faithful. Most of all, I prayed. I prayed for Terrell. I prayed for a miracle to occur in our marriage. And I also prayed for myself. I prayed that God would change any fault He found in me. I prayed for my own patience, endurance, and improvement.

I tried to be a better wife to Terrell. I tried to do more and complain less. I tried to be a lady in the street and a freak with him in the sheets. I tried to be supportive, thankful, and affectionate. Despite all my efforts, we continued to argue.

I gave my statement to the one officer and by that time Officer Jameson was done taking Terrell’s statement. The two officers briefly compared notes before walking over to talk with me.

I don’t believe you. Officer Jameson said to me. Where are your bruises? I see none.

I pull my hair back to reveal the forming hematoma on the side of my head.

Sssss, oooh, the second officer winced. He could clearly see the forming wound.

I don’t see anything, Officer Jameson announced but he really didn’t look. Look, the only thing that you and Terrell’s story have in common was that Terrell flung a cigarette at you. Because of that, we are going to take him into custody. He held his thumb and index finger slightly apart, But I was this close to arresting you.

I understand. I looked down and nodded my head. The adrenaline was wearing off and pain was taking over, but God was there, keeping me calm.

I watched silently as they handcuffed Terrell and took him away.

After they left, I went upstairs. All three kids were huddled in a corner holding onto each other. You guys okay? I asked.

Abigail ran to me and gave me a hug. I was scared, she said, I thought they were going to arrest you.

No, I’m still here.

The truth? I was afraid, too. Virginia police just love locking up Black folk. Doesn’t matter if you are man, woman, or child. One of the women who goes to my church was arrested and prosecuted for pushing her husband. She was on probation for two years and had to pay all kinds of legal fees.

Another of my church friends got arrested and was prosecuted for spanking her child. No marks. No bruises. A regular open hand pat on the leg when he was being disobedient. She spent three days in jail followed by a year’s probation and, of course, legal fees. She was a teacher, so she lost her job. I remember praying with them and for them.

I tossed and turned the rest of the night. The next day, I got up at six in the morning, same as any other day.  I decided to wear my hair down to hide the bruise. Like any other day, I got the kids ready, dropped them off at daycare and went to work. I smiled, laughed with coworkers, and treated patients as if nothing had happened. I had become good at leaving my sorrows at home and wearing a smiling mask at work. No one there knew my pain. 

My heart raced as I pulled into the driveway that evening. I wasn’t sure where Terrell was. Was he still in jail?  Was he at the house?  I unbuckled Aaron from his car seat and held him while I walked into the house. David and Abigail followed behind me.

Hello?

No answer. The house was the same shambled mess, remnants of the fight the night before. Relief replaced anxiety as I realized that we were the only ones in the house.

Okay kids, homework time. I started dinner and cleaned while the kids pulled out books and papers.

Tap, tap, tap. I froze, realizing someone was knocking on the back door. I snuck over to investigate and saw it was my husband. I paused for a moment, not exactly sure what I should do.

Let me in, Angela. It’s freezing out here.

I sighed as I unlocked the door and slowly opened it to let him in.

Geesh, he shook his head, the cops didn’t let me get my jacket. I’ve been out on the street since ten when they let me go. They knew I shouldn’t have been in there in the first place. I had to walk in the freezing cold all the way from the station cause you want to lie to the cops and get me arrested. Now I have to go to court next month. Damn. And you sitting here taking your precious time to open the door while I’m out here freezing.

It was September and a typical autumn in northern Virginia. Cool, but not freezing. And I didn’t lie, but Terrell always had a way of making himself appear to be the victim.

I tried to change the subject. I cooked dinner.

I’m not hungry, he responded and went down to the basement. I focused on the kids; I went over homework, sat down to eat dinner with them, and supervised chores.  After our bathing and bedtime routines, I stretched out on the couch to read the Bible for a few minutes before I got some shut eye. I knew I would repeat the same routine the next day. . . and the next.

The following few weeks were quiet. Terrell stayed in the basement, smoking and watching TV. I followed my routine and Terrell did not talk to me. He did shoot me an angry glare whenever we happened to cross paths.

I missed intimacy. I missed love. I wanted to be loved and to be held. I craved romance and flowers. I knew an apology was a stretch, but it didn’t keep me from hoping. Regardless, I was hurt when I never got so much as a hello after walking through the door after a long day at work.

Yeah, yeah. I know what you’re thinking. How did I, a successful, beautiful, and confident child of God, end up with a man like this? Well, he wasn’t always like this. Two things I really enjoy are romance and sex, and he was good at both. I had just broken up with David’s father because he was cheating on me.  I was vulnerable and, well, Terrell was there. He was very handsome when I first met him. Smooth, dark brown skin. Short, clean-cut, curly hair. Nice clean goatee, light brown eyes, and dimples. I am a sucker for dimples. He stood about six foot five and had a nice muscular build. In the beginning, he was very romantic. He took me out to dinner and brought me flowers. He pulled out my chair and always assured me that he was a faithful good man who would never cheat or lie. He had no difficulty expressing how sexy and beautiful he thought I was, and how infatuated he was with every little thing I did. He looked at me like I was the only girl in the world. I thought it was love. We got pregnant early in the relationship and the abuse started shortly after.

Our first fight was over a Scrabble game. He got so mad at me for playing the word cunt that he threw all the tiles at me and then threw me and all my clothes out of our apartment. I was suddenly alone, pregnant, and hurt. The next day he came running with flowers and apologies. He cried and begged on his knees for my forgiveness. He made some excuse for why he was so upset and told me how much he loved me and our baby. He promised he would be a better man to me and the child, that he would never do it again. He vowed he would do whatever it took to make it right.

Things were good for a while, until our second