Diary of a Mad First Lady Read Free

said?”
    “No. I’m sorry. I was just thinking about Daphne,” I admitted.
    “Honey, there’s no need to think about her anymore. This time Daphne is out of our lives for good,” he said reassuringly. He put his arm around the small of my back and led me out of the courtroom.
    A few reporters had gathered outside to ask a few questions, but it had been already decided that Christopher Tate, Darvin’s best friend and our attorney, would make statements on our behalf until we were ready to hold a press conference.
    “Are you hungry?” Darvin asked.
    “A little. I’m mainly tired. I would prefer to go home and get some rest.”
    He looked at his watch. “I have a meeting with the new sound technician at the church in two hours. You want to just grab something to go and then head home?”
    I glared at him. “How could you set a meeting today? Do you know how taxing this whole thing with Daphne has been on me? I was hoping to enjoy a quiet evening with you free of church business.”
    He rolled his eyes in frustration. “How many times do we have to go over this, Michelle? I’m sorry, but I can’t allow this situation—or should I say this former situation with Daphne—ruin the rest of my day.” He looked around and realized that people were beginning to stare at us as we stood on the courthouse steps. He dropped his voice lower. “Look, I promise when I get home tonight, it’ll just be me and you.”
    “Darvin, that’s not my issue,” I said, frustrated with his failed attempt to pacify me. “Every night when you get home, it’s me and you. The baby is already asleep when you arrive. But, once you’re there, our routine consists of the same thing every single night. We eat dinner, and then you’re off to your office to prepare a sermon. There is hardly ever any intimate time spent between us. When it is, it only involves sex.” I felt my eyes get moist. “I just want us to have a day free of anyone else or any other business. I want us to maintain our relationship.” I stroked his cheek.
    For a minute, I thought he was actually considering my plea. But then, he looked deep into my eyes, and I could tell that he was searching for a way to let me down gently. I had grown to know when I’d actually gotten through to him, and I could feel that this was not one of those times.
    “Why don’t I call Greg and see if he can meet me right now instead of in two hours? How does that sound? That way, I can take this off of my to-do list and spend the rest of the evening home in bed with you, watching old movies.”
    I stared holes into him. I concluded that he must have a fever. Either that or he couldn’t hear. I didn’t want to be brushed off while he scratched off another item on his to-do list. I was always taking a back seat to his stupid list. Matter of fact, at times I felt that if there were ten things on it, I was number ten.
    I started walking away. If I spoke right now, I would say the wrong thing. We had only been married for a few years, but I could remember our pre-marital counselor saying, “When you are in a heated moment that’s too intense for a response, walk away; for it’s better to walk away than to do or say something that you’ll later regret.”
    “Michelle!” he called.
    I kept walking.
    “Michelle, girl, you know you hear me talking to you.”
    I still kept walking. I crossed the street to the parking lot where I had parked my car. Suddenly, I heard car horns blowing. I turned around to see Darvin’s tall behind trying to stop cars by holding his hand up in the stop formation. If I wasn’t so frustrated, I would have laughed at his silly self.
    He ran up to me. “What are you trying to do? Get me killed?”
    “Nobody told you to be deceived into thinking that you were some type of rubber, able to endure being run over by a car if it should hit you,” I said sarcastically.
    “Listen, honey,” he said as he caressed my arm. “I’m sorry. I know that I’ve been