Taste of Reality Read Online Free PDF Page A

like either of you are sleeping around with other people, like Xavier was. And as far as I’m concerned, any other disagreement or problem can be fixed.”
    “Maybe. But who’s to say whether it can be or not, because we both know every man isn’t like Marc.”
    “No, I admit, he is a wonderful person. Almost too good to betrue when I dwell on it for too long. Sometimes when he’s sleeping, I stare at him and wonder what I did so great for God to bring him into my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier, but the tough part about being this happy is that you spend at least a quick moment every day wondering when it’s all going to blow up in your face.”
    “You shouldn’t think that way, because we all deserve some happiness.”
    “I know, but every now and then, I can’t help thinking about the fact that he had a drinking problem before I met him. He hasn’t even drunk beer since I’ve been with him, but still, I sometimes worry about it.”
    “I can understand that, but you just have to believe that everything is going to be fine.”
    Monica opened her mouth to speak again, but the phone rang.
    “Shoot, I forgot to bring out the cordless. I’ll be right back,” she said, darting into the house.
    A warm breeze swept across my face, and I closed my eyes savoring the moment. I sighed when I thought about the problems in my life. If my grandmother were still alive, she’d tell me to say, “Hallelujah anyhow.” She’d tell me that I should stop complaining and thank God for waking me up in my right mind, for giving me all the necessities I need to survive and for keeping me in good health. Which I did all the time, because I was extremely gracious toward His blessings. But even though I wholeheartedly believed that God never placed any more on us than we could bear, it really was starting to feel like it. I was so terribly overwhelmed, and for the most part, just plain miserable. I kept asking myself what happened to the life I lived barely two years ago. I wasn’t having much success with my career back then either, but at least I’d just started a new position at Reed Meyers, and David and I were happier than ever. We did everything together, and we took more trips to Jamaica,
Mexico, and Hawaii in one year than most couples did in a lifetime. Then I became consumed with trying to get ahead in the businessworld, and David started working much longer hours, sometimes calling to say it was too late to drive all the way home, and that it would be more convenient to grab a hotel room instead. His company was generous enough to pay for it, but I noticed that his overnight stays in Chicago eventually became more frequent as time went on and his two-day business trips turned into weeklong conferences. I’d questioned him a number of times about how limited his time was at home, but he always responded by telling me that traveling was part of the business, and that he had no choice in the matter.
    I didn’t know whether he was telling the truth or whether he used those excuses as a means to disguise what he was really up to. I knew he was upset about my not getting pregnant, but it just seemed to me that there was something else bothering him. Like there was something or someone else distracting him. Maybe it was just my imagination or maybe even the guilt I kept feeling for not doing everything I could as a wife to make him happy. But I couldn’t avoid the fact that he wasn’t being the best husband either. The least he could do was give me the support any husband should give any career-oriented wife who was possibly being shafted by her employer. I had basically remained the same in terms of my values and morals in life. He, however, had changed completely with this whole why-can’t-I-be-white mentality, and I didn’t see how I could ever get used to it, now or in the future. But maybe he’d be willing to change if I calmly explained how derogatory his thinking was. Maybe
I needed to spend more