Chapter 1 Not Gon’ Cry – Tarana Morgan aka Tara #2
From the moment I had him served with divorce papers, he wasted no time moving into a home with her and starting a new life, which meant our kids bouncing from their home to his new family house every other weekend.
There was no such thing as an adjustment period for the sake of our children when it came to Jason moving on.
Whatever moral compass she was trying to reset didn’t have anything to do with me.
I could be cordial to Amber for the sake of my children and my sanity, but I didn’t have anything more to offer her.
Though she was well-deserving of my disrespect, I knew being evil hearted toward her would only be damaging to me in the long run.
Going from one child’s room to the next, I managed to reluctantly get them out of the house with the reminder they would only be gone for the weekend. I would see them first thing Monday morning when we all made it to school.
As a teacher at North Brooke Port Academy, NBP’s finest private school, one thing I loved was that I could teach at the school my children attended.
Teaching wasn’t my initial career choice, but from the moment I stepped into my first classroom eleven years ago, it had easily become my passion.
I honestly couldn’t imagine doing anything else with my life.
It was far more rewarding than being a news editor assistant which was my occupation before I transitioned to the classroom.
Taking my English degree and getting a teacher certification was one of the best choices I’d ever made for myself.
The ringing of my phone pulled me away from the mindless cleaning I began doing once my children said their goodbyes to me.
“Hey, E,” I greeted into the phone, answering for my best friend since middle school, Eva.
“Hey, T,” she greeted in response. “Are my godchildren gone with their sorry ass daddy yet?”
There was so much noise in her background that I had to turn my phone’s volume up. Luckily, Eva had always been quite a vociferous person, so it didn’t take much to still hear what she was saying despite the various sounds in her background.
“E, don’t say that,” I chastised, shaking my head as if she could see my nonverbal disapproval.
“I will stop calling him sorry when he stops acting like a bit—”
“Eva!” I yelled to interrupt her, and I couldn’t help but to laugh at her exaggerated bluntness.
Even though we had all known each other since middle school, she had never been on Jason’s team, and when his cheating came to light, Eva didn’t take it easy on him about playing with my heart and killing our family dynamic.
“You’re right. I’ll save my aggression for the next time I see him.”
“Girl, you are a mess.”
“You know how I feel about you and your wellbeing, T, and before I go off again, let me change the subject,” she stated and took a dramatic inhale. “Do you have any plans this weekend with the kids out of the house?”
“I was going to have a night in. That’s about it.”
“In other words, you aren’t going to do anything except for stay in your pajamas this weekend,” she confirmed, calling my bluff.
We had known each other so long I shouldn’t have been surprised at her reading through my generic answer.
“I knew you wouldn’t be doing anything, which is why I made plans for us.
Get sexy and be ready for me to pick you up in two hours. Love you. Bye.”
Racing to end the call, she didn’t bother giving me a chance to reject her proposal.
I appreciated her offer, but a part of her invitation caused an intense level of fear to ignite in my heart. Get sexy. I replayed her words in my mind, and I didn’t know where to start.
Take a shower, and then get dressed. I mentally and casually reasoned to myself, attempting to minimize the level of anxiety I was experiencing.
Okay.
I figured a task I completed every day was easy enough. It wasn’t as if I didn’t wear stylish clothes on a daily basis. Yet, I knew just because I was stylish didn’t mean I was sexy.
Admittedly, Jason’s affair had done a number on my confidence and self-esteem, and no matter how hard I worked to rebuild myself, I still found myself wondering why I failed at being good enough for my husband.
That was the part of divorce no one could quite prepare you for. It was the part where when everything was said and done, you wondered why you weren’t good enough. You wondered if you could have done anything differently, and lastly, you questioned why it had to be you.
Out of all the husbands who could have cheated on their wives and gotten their mistress pregnant, why did it have to be mine?
Choosing not to ruin my night by giving life to the self-sabotaging thoughts occupying space in my mind, I pushed them all the way to the back and finished cleaning.
By the time everything was to my liking, I had a little over an hour left in the two-hour window Eva had given me to get dressed, or in her words get sexy.
I had an hour and fifteen minutes to redefine sexy and bring it to life… Great .