The voice note turned blue. They all had listened. They all knew.
Desh was the first on the ball, “Nah, nah, nah, nah! You not serious. Honestly, I’m in shock!”
It was shock to everyone. Of course it was, we were the beautiful black couple with the beautiful baby and beautiful story. We climbed from nothing, we were in the making of becoming something. To the public eye, we supported each other’s dreams, careers and education. We even shared our anniversary celebrations publicizing our love and devotion, despite being at each other’s throats between camera snaps. We were loving and adoring fans of the other always posting about the other’s achievements on social media and how proud we were of the other. We were diligent, aspiring entrepreneurs with matched ambitions and drives. Lord only knows how grossly mismatched we were, but we wore the facade well.
I sent the picture I found.
Red faced emojis followed in response.
I sent screen shots of the Facebook conversation I had with the young lady.
Lin began typing, “So if their friendship is so innocent, why lie about how they knew each other?”
“I don’t know. I’ve always been very accepting of his female colleagues. He thought it was a safe bet.” I rationalized. “You know, I always believed that men are just bred to cheat. But for some unfathomable reason, I thought he would be different.” My mind fazed to my father, dead now, he too was afflicted by the plague upon Caribbean men to spread their seed with little regard. This was evidenced by my two brothers born in 1992 but were not twins.
“I don’t know what to say, doll. What are you going to do now?” Lin attempted to assess where my head was at.
“I don’t know. Counselling I guess. I’ve been begging for us to go to counselling for months but he insisted we don’t need it. We definitely need it now.”
Lene, while online, didn’t type a syllable. Lene had a different connection with him. He was more than her old friend’s husband. He was her God-son, as she stayed for him when he converted to Catholicism through R.C.I.A. He was the colleague who taught her the ropes at her new job. He was her friend too. He was also her last hope that there may still be good men in the world.
“Whatsapp needs an angry emoji with no tears.”
Lin sent one, encouraging me to use it as much as I needed to.
Lene finally joined the conversation “I’m not believing any story. I’m not believing anything he has to say. I’m just so f***ing pissed right now!” Ever the pious catholic, she couldn’t bring herself to type the word. “Girl, I’m crying on my side right now. How could he do that to you after everything.”
“Men cheat. It’s not a matter of if but when.” I addressed it nonchalantly.
“But he was one of the good ones.” I can almost hear her voice crack as I read her words.
“Was.” I quipped. Desh echoed my nonchalance by pointing at my one word response with a brown hand emoji.
“Well ladies, this bullshit has cost me enough sleep tonight. I’ll try to reach out to the Deacon in the morning about counselling and I’ll keep you posted.
“Alright doll. Let us know what’s happening and if I need to dismount my knives from my wall.” Desh attempted to lighten the mood with her trademarked dark humour.
One by one they attempted to console me that night from their beds. Three hug emojis each.