“Well, that was fast,” I said as I discovered Jeff had already remarried.

We hadn’t been divorced for four months yet, and Jeff was already on his second wife. Teresa, one of my former friends. A self-proclaimed sex addict. I say former because she tried to get with Jeff on multiple occasions.

“She can have him,” I shook my head as I unfollowed them on my socials.

I had tried to talk to Jeff before we finalized the divorce, asking if there was a middle ground, allowing me to think about his interests, but his mind was made up. So, I gave him the divorce he wanted.

Now he was with her, and I was sure Teresa would give him exactly what he wanted; she was well known within our small circle for trying to steal our husbands and sleeping with any man that would give her attention.

Her infidelity and promiscuity caused rifts in her relationships as her boyfriends would dump her as soon as they found out she cheated; now, she found someone in Jeff who would love it for her to bring someone home.

Teresa had claimed the title of ‘hot wife,’ whatever that meant.

“She is just doing it to get you back,” Lauren said as we met for lunch.

I once told Teresa I would be glad to talk to her about sex addiction after her last boyfriend threw her out of his house. She claimed it was his fault that she slept with his cousin, but that was always her reasoning.

I didn’t shrink my friends, as some would call it. My specialty or field of study was bullying, especially in teens and young adults.

I had been bullied as a teenager, which led me to multiple trips to the therapist’s office and other dark places.

Having four brothers that teased and mocked me all the time was hard enough; entering puberty earlier than most was even more challenging.

By the time I hit high school, I had a bigger chest than most female faculty members, so the names and insults came daily.

“I can’t believe he left you the house,” Lauren exclaimed.

“He did it so I wouldn’t fight him on the boat,” I shrugged.

I liked the boat; it was something we both liked to do on a hot summer’s day. The lake wasn’t too far from our house. We would take it out and have a good time.

“So, he got the boat and the rentals,” Lauren shook her head. “It seems you lost that one.”

I made more than Jeff, which was alarming for him being a fire investigator for the city. But the schools and the state were cutting down on suicides as our state had skyrocketed to near the top in the nation.

I knew some people made fun of people that got bullied, but it wasn’t something to be laughed at or made fun of; for some, it was severe.

“I have the kids,” I smiled. “They know their father, and they sided with me.”

Jeff hadn’t always been it’s my way or the highway type, not when we got together, but after we started our family, that side of him came out quickly. He kept saying that his parents were strict when he was a kid.

‘Kids are to be seen and not heard’ was his favorite thing to say if the kids got too loud or didn’t do as he said.

Frederick, being the oldest, took the brunt of it. When the other two would get in trouble, he would always stand up for them; that’s why when he decided to go into the military, I wasn’t surprised. Frederick always stood up for anyone that needed it.

“What about the other guy?” Lauren asked.

“What guy?” I asked, knowing who Lauren was talking about, but I wanted her to say it.

“You know the black guy,” Lauren said in a whisper.

“You don’t have to whisper,” I shook my head.

We were in a large restaurant, and no one was near our booth.

“I know, but you know how people are,” Lauren shook her head. “Can’t say anything without someone getting hurt.”

I nodded; it was part of the new world we lived in. While I was an advocate for not bullying, there was definitely a line between saying what you wanted and bullying. If someone said to stop, you stopped. It didn’t mean I expected them never to say it, just not to them.

That’s where people got the lines crossed. Someone saying you hurt their feelings didn’t mean they were soft or wanted you to stop saying how you felt; it just meant that word hurt them. There was a massive difference between the two, but no one wanted to meet in the middle.

Like Jeff, people these days were all about them. The us versus them mentality had taken over everything from politics to religion, raising kids, and even teaching.

If you didn’t see it their way, you were the enemy, period! No, if’s or but’s about it. They were like little children. They started it so that we will end it.

I remember my father saying before he passed away there was a time when people kept their opinions to themselves, and if you didn’t agree with someone, you agreed to disagree and moved the fuck on.

Not today. If you disagreed with someone from the right, you were a lefty and a libtard; if you agreed with someone from the left, you were a bigot or a racist; no middle ground on either.

Lauren, like me, was independent. We viewed things in the gray area. I could see both sides and agreed with many things, but I was told many times. “You have to pick a side!” My reply was always. “No, the fuck I don’t!”

“Nothing came out of it,” I shrugged.

Gregg was way too young for me. We talked a lot after the divorce, mainly online, and that’s where I saw a vast difference in opinions and interests.

Gregg liked rap music, which was okay with me, but he liked the new stuff, which I had to say was like nails on a chalkboard to me. I liked the older stuff.

I liked boating and fishing as well as camping. Gregg hated the outdoors. Soon our talks got less and less. And eventually, it just stopped.

“Too bad,” Lauren said with her usual smile.

“You know, would like to have known,” Lauren shrugged.

I shook my head. “It’s a rumor, trust me,” I said.

“How do you know?” Lauren said as she stared at me.

I motioned to lower her voice as I looked around.

A New Direction Chapter Two: Good Out of Bad.

Cynthia starts focusing on the good things and not the bad.

“Well, that was fast,” I said as I discovered Jeff had already remarried.

We hadn’t been divorced for four months yet, and Jeff was already on his second wife. Teresa, one of my former friends. A self-proclaimed sex addict. I say former because she tried to get with Jeff on multiple occasions.



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A New Direction Chapter Two: Good Out of Bad.

Cynthia starts focusing on the good things and not the bad.

About the Creator

Alexander Martin

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