A Bad Decision

By Rita Giuliani

Bad decisions are the crux of this novel. The main characters strive to unravel their unfortunate bad mistakes and choices.

Marco Berryfield, a highly motivated, honest, bright and career-minded CPA, and hardly a negative individual, continually faces significant and unsurmountable obstacles which he gradually overcomes but not before he experiences the devastation of the loss of his parents in a car accident and his impending divorce.

He becomes convinced that his hopes and dreams of a very happy and successful life could easily be accomplished until his stable marriage to a woman of a different race abruptly and surprisingly comes to an end. He is now facing the shock of his wife’s insistence on terminating their short marital agreement. Oddly enough, the breakup has nothing to do with their interracial marriage.

Marco is crushed and suffers extreme guilt thinking he is the cause of the breakup. He never expected or anticipated that his future would become so challenged and eventually collapse. He experiences serious ups and downs. In the meantime, he was completely unaware of his wife’s devious nighttime activities and is faced with the shocking awareness of her sly and deceitful behavior. He is forced to deal with yet another bad decision that he has made.

Following his divorce, he meets up with a bizarre, but rich, elderly billionaire under very strange circumstances and accompanies him to Atlantic City. Marco is unaware he is leading a double life. While in Atlantic City, he meets and becomes completely enthralled by the Assistant Manager of the hotel and his life dramatically turns around.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664150416

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Suddenly his whole world was turned upside down. Everything was happening so suddenly and everything was much too sudden for him. The suddenness of everything was getting to him. What he didn’t realize was that the worst was yet to come for which he was totally unprepared.

He found himself becoming more and more fidgety and on edge and up against circumstances beyond his comprehension. He was beginning to lose his easy-going disposition. He always prided himself on maintaining a happy and pleasant outlook on life no matter what he was confronted with. Although he was very determined to never let life’s challenges prevent him from achieving a happy frame of mind, however, at this point, he felt mentally torn and confused. The torment was getting to him. He was besieged by self-doubt. There was no sequence to his life, rather, it was completely off-track and out of control. The reason?

To begin with, unlike his previous forty-one years of life, the current year was turning out to be extremely unusual and challenging for him. Marco Berryfield really believed he more than had his share of sadness starting with the sudden loss of his parents in a fatal car accident to which he had not recovered from the shock—a mere few months ago. It was a struggle for him to put this horrific accident behind him and go on with his life.

A brilliant CPA, he was so absorbed with maintaining his job and his health following the accidental death of his parents and the multiple issues he had to contend with after their passing that he wasn’t paying attention to his immediate and personal concerns and issues—specifically, the deterioration of his marriage.

It completely stunned him--although he had been forewarned by the fortune teller he had been seeing frequently in New York City and whose psychic powers he found amazing. Much to his disappointment, the fortune teller foresaw difficulties and significant changes and challenges for him in the year ahead. He was hoping for a brighter and more happy prediction but such was not the case. Instead, it was the complete opposite.

In recent years, he had become so obsessed with the art of fortune telling that he subscribed to online courses and, with no difficulty, completed each. He was fully aware that the skeptics believed this was based on magical thinking and superstition. Simultaneous with this pastime, he had also become enthralled by the gypsy culture and had travelled through Europe where most reside to learn more about their lifestyle. He also had a secret desire to join a gypsy caravan but realized this idea would be highly impractical and, in many respects, utterly absurd and impossible given his position as a CPA and his professional associations. He didn’t want anyone looking at him askance, and didn’t want to become known as an itinerant. He had to remain socially and professionally acceptable and not be rejected by his peers.

He also went as far as to learn palm reading and how to read tarot cards although he was aware that more women are psychic mediums rather than men possibly because they appear to be more intuitive. He never mentioned or discussed these distractions with anyone—not even his parents knowing many people view these pursuits with much skepticism and might think he was possessed or superstitious. It distressed him to think that he would be considered distorted or odd which would cause great discomfort on his part that he was preoccupied with these kinds of pursuits. He could easily become an outcast because of this. He really wasn’t sure what motivated him to pursue these unusual and outlandish activities. This caused him to become flustered with himself when he didn’t know his own mind. He really wanted, above all, to be considered just a regular guy and was proud to have served in the US military as an Army sergeant which was one of his biggest accomplishments. He often boasted about his tour of duty overseas and his overall experiences as a soldier.

On the lighter side, however, he was an avid bowler and belonged to a local bowling league where he developed many friendships with the other male members. Bowling was like a release for him, and he excelled in the sport and helped his team win many trophies. Additionally, he was an excellent golfer and enjoyed playing softball—weather permitting. Most especially, he loved going to the theater. Over the years, he attended many plays in the Manhattan theaters and fantasized about writing a play himself. He really believed he had the ability to carry out this ambition. He studied the art of playwriting and felt very positive and hopeful that it would not be long before he would tackle this endeavor. His other interests included literature, art, popular culture, and he was continually fascinated with cyberculture.

He also acquired a gambling habit which had gone completely out of control over the last several years. It was a fixation he acquired during vacations to the Caribbean Islands, Las Vegas, and Atlantic City. There was no doubt that the Las Vegas strip was one of his favorite gambling destinations. He was, indeed, mesmerized by the Strip lined with its upscale casino hotels, bright neon lights, and the entertainment and attractions were unequalled, in particular, the Fountains of Bellagio which he found utterly spectacular. It was an indescribable fascination to him.

Once he started, he couldn’t stop and made several weekend trips to the Las Vegas casinos where he lost a substantial amount of money which led to psychological distress and depression. He almost lost his luxurious condominium and his life’s savings. He knew if anything got that worse, he could always count on his parents to bail him out but he did not want them to know about this obsessive habit. For that matter no one knew how out of control this habit had become. He finally sought the support of Gamblers Anonymous which helped him bring this compulsive habit under control although every now and then he felt the temptation and urge to gamble. It took him quite a while to bring his life back to some semblance of normalcy. In the meantime, he was pleased with himself that he managed to drop his smoking habit.

CHAPTER 2

Here he was in the den of his beautiful home which he had custom-built for both him and his wife. It was now early evening in late October. The days were considerably short as compared to even a month ago. Daylight disappeared earlier and earlier as the northern hemisphere braced for winter. The beauty of the foliage took away from the grim anticipation of what to expect in the coming season. For Marco Berryfield it was, in many respects, his favorite time of the year. He could never get enough of the spectacular and stunning foliage and the brilliant colors everywhere he went throughout the fall season.

He wasn’t prepared for what he was about to hear. You simply don’t like being married, do you, Miraclen? he shouted, leaning over her. Still dressed in his business attire and now showing a five o’clock shadow on his face, he wore a wild and upsetting look on his face. Miraclen tearfully nodded her head in agreement.

Yes, she meekly replied.

Marcola Barry Berryfield walked over to the fireplace which he always found soothing. This beautiful den was like a retreat to him. He personally decorated it. Over his wife’s objections, he insisted upon warm colors and a custom window seat adjacent to library shelves. He had a look of disgust all over his face as he stared over at his wife who was seated on the couch. Then why did you marry me? he asked, searching for an answer and with perspiration dripping down his face. Because you had nothing better to do? he screamed at her. Was this like an amusement or some form of entertainment for you? He tended to become very overheated in situations like this. For God’s sake, you know how difficult this past year has been for me and now you drop this on me?

I was getting old, Marcola, she meekly responded. She seldom called him ‘Marcola’ preferring instead ‘Marco’ except when she was either angry or serious about her discussions with him such as now. I’m sorry, she said drying the tears in her eyes. As always, she was immaculately, but casually dressed in fashionable clothes, which did much to become her appearance. Her head down, her beautifully styled straight black hair fell over her face. She sat up and sighed as she leaned back against the couch. She couldn’t make eye contact with him. She hated when he pressed her. She just wanted out. She, herself, never thought it would come to this. It certainly wasn’t planned. It really wasn’t like her to do something like this, or, at least, she didn’t think so.

You like your freedom, don’t you? Don’t like being tied down, am I, at least, getting warm? he asked, now standing over her with bulging eyes. He couldn’t help his ambivalent feelings towards her. He really believed he was still in love with her.

Uh-huh, yes, you’re right.

Enough so that you want to terminate this marriage? he asked, still standing—his eyes showing intense anger.

It’s not that I want to terminate this marriage and please don’t stand over me.

He starkly interrupted her without moving away from her. You’re being very vague, and downright pointless, and making absolutely no sense, you know that? In the two years I have been married to you, I have never known you to be so indecisive. So let me understand where you’re coming from. You don’t want to terminate this marriage, but you just don’t want to be married anymore either, am I comprehending you correctly? Yes or no? he sharply asked, finally turning away from her.

Yes.

What do you take me for? Some kind of a fool? he asked with disgust in his voice. To make sure we understand each other, let’s start from the beginning. That okay with you?

Yes, yes, she replied with much guilt in her voice.

Okay, you’re done with this marriage and for reasons incomprehensible and inconceivable to me. Yet, you can’t seem to express to me exactly what it is that’s gotten to you about this marriage. Am I right so far?

Well, yes and no.

What do you mean by yes and no? he demanded of her.

I, I, I really don’t know, was all she could say.

You know, you’re really getting to me. Here all this time, I thought I married a very intelligent woman and now I have to stand here listening to your nonsense and, on top of that, tolerate your inability to verbalize and/or identify the problems, issues, and so forth, that you’re having with this marriage so we can work them out. Anything wrong with that?

She couldn’t respond. I wish you would stop interrogating or grilling me as though I’m on trial for God’s sake.

This is not an interrogation, Miraclen. I’m only trying to get to the bottom of why you suddenly decided to terminate our marriage. I don’t know about you, but I’m very bothered by what I’m hearing.

He walked over to the other side of the den and stared out the huge windows.

He turned around. Here all this time, I thought you and I had built a very meaningful and loving relationship. I should have known better because you know why? Well, let me tell you why—you can and have been very manipulative, and, I, the fool that I am put up with it. Don’t think I didn’t notice it over the last couple of years, but I chose to be the loving husband, and overlook it or ignore it—anyway you want to put it. You see, I’m committed to my conscience and the vows I took at the altar where you’re not. I have no problem believing that you could not have found a better husband than me. I did everything possible to make you happy except cradle you unless that’s what you were looking for, he said with cynicism.

She still would not respond. Inwardly, she knew he was right.

The argument intensified. There was so much contention between them.

You know, something is very wrong with this picture. What I mean is here you are an exceedingly bright, intelligent, gifted, creative woman who graduated from college with honors, is very active in the community and does volunteer work in the soup kitchens, tutors children of low-income families, and, most of all, has received recognition from the mayor and, yet, you can’t seem to handle this marriage. I really don’t understand, he said with a frustrated and bewildered look on his face. Thankfully, my life does not depend upon this marriage, he said with sarcasm in his voice. And what I’m understanding from this absolutely ludicrous conversation, this marriage amounted to nothing more to you than a farce, and was sheer misery, correct? I’m really feeling bad for you, if you know what I mean.

As she looked, despairingly, at him, it occurred to her that she confided in no one prior to her divorce. She just sprung it on him. She suddenly came to the realization that they were very diametrically different from each other. She sought no advice from anyone—not family or friends. She wanted this to be strictly her decision, but realized now that, perhaps, she should have discussed this monumental decision with a professional, a family member, or a good friend and given him some advance notice or some prior indication that she had no intentions of staying in the marriage. However, she realized now, although it was too late, that, perhaps, she should not simply have trusted her own judgment to make a big decision like this.

She stared at him. She could not respond.

He hated when she wouldn’t respond to him. He wasn’t sure what her silence meant.

He looked around. He really loved the house, the solar heated pool with expansive decking and, in particular, the den which he found comfortable and useful to relax and be alone particularly after a long, hard day at work. It was like a retreat for him where he could withdraw from the world. Miraclen, on the other hand, hardly ever used the den preferring, instead, to work in her upstairs office. He realized that they were over their heads financially having bought an expensive home in a pricey, although diverse neighborhood. They struggled with the exorbitant costs associated with living in an exclusive section, but, so far, were able to manage. Having sold his condominium at an above-average price helped.

In many respects, they were very different from each other. He, an extrovert, she, an introvert. He was always in search of adventure and promised himself he would climb Mount Everest before he left this earth, while she, on the other hand, had no interest in his adventuresome ideas and settled for the status quo. In his eyes, she was very laid back although he did not realize it until now.

He walked back to where she was sitting. To continue this highly intelligent conversation, you want to be both single and married at the same time? Answer me, he yelled at her. You know what I think? You’re something of a cheat, and, furthermore, you’re not making any sense at all, and I don’t have to stand for this nonsense. This is outrageous to say the least. Get it? he asked, turning his back on her.

Yes, she yelled back at him. One thing you cannot accuse me of is cheating on you, and don’t ever say that again, and, furthermore, just to set you straight I’m not looking to be coddled or cradled by you or anyone for that matter.

Okay, then . . . isn’t this a little odd at your age, I mean, after all, you are thirty-seven years old, wanting to terminate a marriage after two years? he yelled as he looked her in the eye. Usually, at this age most normal people are entrenched in their marriages and settled down and thinking about raising a family.

Or getting out of their marriages, she snidely interjected. And by the way, this is quite a performance you’re putting on and with all the dramatics—keep it going and you may be nominated for an academy award, she said sarcastically.

He ignored what she just said and, instead, abruptly turned away from her. So, just what are your plans after we end this wonderful marriage of ours? Do you have someone else lined up to fill the gap, the void, relieve your boredom with me or however you want to phrase it? Someone who will give you a charge? Man, woman, anybody? Was I that overbearing? Did I stifle you? he asked, his face beat red. Sounds to me like you have to go out and refresh yourself, your mind, whatever. Am I at least getting hot for the reasons for your bizarre attitude? He turned himself around so that he was face to face with her. Well? Answer me! he shouted. You’re completely incoherent, and I can’t stand much more of this utter nonsense. What about marriage counseling?

First of all, Marco there is no one else. Why would I leave you to go into another claustrophobic situation? And, by the way, you should know by now that I’m a straight woman, Marco. No, Marco, you did not smother me . . . it’s just a mental condition I have of feeling closed in and trapped, she answered, finding it difficult to look up at him with tears streaming down her face. Furthermore, marriage counseling would never work for me. I really don’t believe in it and I have doubts it does much good.

Okay, so forget the marriage counseling. I’m with you on that. At the same time, I really love your forthrightness. How the hell can you feel closed in and trapped? Answer me, he screamed at her. Do I have a chain wrapped around you or have I barricaded you or handcuffed you that you feel so tied down or is this just a lot of drama on your part? You talk as though you’re locked up in jail. You sound like I’m holding you out in exchange for ransom. Your life is your own, lady. I have never dictated to you how to go about your affairs. And, by the way, when was the last time you ever had to cook dinner for me or do my laundry? Well let me answer that—NEVER! he shouted. If anything, it was the other way around. I did all the cooking—true, I had a flair for preparing meals, and I enjoyed it which you obviously don’t, and try and remember that I took responsibility for all of my personal needs and never bothered you or intruded on you for anything and you must know that. What I’m getting at is that you’ve had no domestic responsibilities. Right?

Yes, that’s right, Marco. I did the best I could. So, what do you want me to do? Apologize that I’m not as talented as you are when it comes to cooking, and that I’m no gourmet chef and no connoisseur? Aren’t you getting a little ridiculous about all this?

He decided to disregard her comments. He didn’t want to tangle with her any further if he could help it. But it was getting harder and harder for him to restrain himself listening to her feeble excuses for wanting this divorce. He never in his life felt so used and abused.

He continued, And, furthermore, why didn’t you tell me about all your so-called drawbacks, problems, weaknesses, idiosyncrasies, and, so on and so forth, before we got married? Did it ever occur to you that I, as your future husband, had a right to know these small insignificant details, that is, if you’re getting my drift? he asked sarcastically. I didn’t need this aggravation, at my age. I’m forty-two years old and could have taken up with someone more honest and sincere than you, he yelled at her. You know all the women I dated before I met you? Women who were sincere and truthful and respected me, he yelled, pointing his finger at her. One thing I sure as hell didn’t need was to have been taken by a fraud like you, he said with much emphasis.

Then why the hell didn’t you marry one of those so-called honest and sincere women? After all, according to what you just said, they meant soo much to you, she shouted out in a high-pitched tone of voice to ridicule him.

You know, your articulateness, that is, if you want to call it that, is wearing thin—very thin. Don’t give me any of your sarcasm. I don’t have to explain anything to you. Understand? All I know is that I shouldn’t have trusted those lousy dating sites, he shouted, reminding her as to how they met.

I never insisted on anything, mister. You pursued me, remember? And you saw I was of a different race and kept right on coming.

This has nothing to do with your race, he hollered. Don’t ever say that again! It’s you, you’re the problem, he shouted with a look of revenge on his face. I suppose there wasn’t enough glamour in this marriage or, maybe, you felt attention-deprived. If that’s the case, to that I can only tell you to wise up! You can’t be the center of attention all your life. Well, what have you to say? he screamed at her. I think I deserve some kind of an answer, don’t you? he asked as he walked closer to her. Well? He nervously stood over her, grabbed her shoulder, and squeezed it getting no answer from her. If nothing else, I was, without question, out to make this interracial marriage a loving and permanent relationship and don’t you ever forget that. So, tell me just what is it that you’re lacking in this marriage? Help me to understand, he said, grabbing her by the shoulder to get the answers he was looking for.

Ouch, you’re hurting me, she yelled at him. Let go of me.

Oh no kidding—you’re hurting. And just what about me? Answer the question. Why the hell didn’t you explain all this lousy nonsense to me before we got married? he screamed in her ear. Here you deceived me into thinking we would start raising a family and live happily ever after and now this bullshit! And if you can remember correctly, I’m still your husband and deserve answers.

Not for too much longer, I hope, she replied sardonically which further enraged him.

Don’t get smart with me! he hostilely demanded. It hurts. Answer me, answer me, I said. What made you decide to suddenly terminate this marriage? he asked glaring at her, his eyes practically bulging. What am I to tell my divorce lawyer?" He was losing his temper which could be dangerous for both and they both knew the consequences were he to let go.

"I guess I was just being selfish. I wanted to be known as ‘Mrs. Somebody’ but now I see it was just A Bad Decision."

"Oh, so I’m supposed to be satisfied with that answer—it was just A Bad Decision. Gee, how about that? You know what? You’re nothing but a lying, two-faced phony. Trouble with you is that you think you’re entitled and above everyone. I supposed this marriage was very much in the way of your career aspirations. Well, am I right? he screamed at her. Furthermore, you have just wasted almost two years of my