Page 4 of The Heart Of A Real Woman: Marilyn & Moses

Moses

Mary was serious about that divorce. She had filed and had me served.

So here we were three months later, sitting in court-ordered mediation.

The conference room was designed to foster peace and clarity, with soft lighting and fancy-ass artwork.

Yet for me, it felt suffocating as fuck in this bitch, far from serene.

I leaned back in my chair as my heart pounded inside my chest. Not much typically shook me, but the thought of losing Mary forever had me on the brink. And the fact I had not been this close to her in months drove me crazy, too. All I wanted was to hold her in my arms.

The mahogany table between us was cluttered with papers, numbers, and terms I dreaded facing.

I was a street nigga and a business owner, which meant I was sharp as hell when it came to negotiations.

But this was different. This was my wife, my life, my family, or what was left of it.

And I was not looking to negotiate about that.

Mary sat across from me, dressed in a neutral-colored pantsuit and heels, looking stunning as ever. Even the firm expression on her face could not overshadow her vibrant presence. She radiated warmth, shining like a diamond, always the light in my life. A real-ass woman.

Beside her sat her attorney, going on about joint custody for my son.

It was a reasonable ask since Mary had been in his life since he was four months old.

I would never try to sever their bond. Shit, I couldn’t even if I wanted to.

In Jr.’s heart, she was his one and only mother, even though I had told him the truth long ago.

Mary had raised him, fed him, and nurtured him like she had pushed him out herself, imprinting her mark on both me and his soul.

There could never be another; she was irreplaceable.

While the attorneys talked, my eyes stayed locked on Mary, searching for any flicker of hesitation in her eyes.

..any sign that, despite dragging us here, she still wanted me.

But I found nothing. Her expression was unreadable as ever.

She did not look my way once. Instead, her attorney spoke about splitting our accounts, properties, and even throwing out a monthly alimony figure.

When her attorney turned and asked mine if we agreed with the proposal, I lost my composure.

Not because I was against her having anything.

Mary could have whatever she wanted from me, even my last breath if it came to that.

I would give my life for hers, no question.

I lost it because I could not picture living my life without her. ..a life apart from her.

“Hell nah,” I cut my attorney off just as he started to answer, and silence slammed down over the room.

Mary’s attorney shifted in his seat, looking between us with confusion. He cleared his throat. “Mr. Mikaelson, can you clarify what you disagree with?”

“I don’t agree with none of that shit.” I shot back, my frustration boiling over. I felt every stare, including the mediators.

My attorney jumped in fast, trying to salvage the meeting and earn every dollar I had paid him. But the truth was, I had wasted my fucking money. I was not about to divorce my wife. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

“Please forgive my client,” he said, adjusting his tie. “Emotions are running high, and this transition has been very difficult for him. What Mr. Mikaelson means is—”

I interrupted again, lifting my hand. “I meant just what the fuck I said. I do not agree with none of this because I do not agree with the divorce.”

I leaned forward in my seat, hoping Mary would look my way and put a stop to this. Instead, she exhaled sharply and rubbed her temple, still avoiding eye contact with me.

“First, you duck and dodge being served. Now this. Stop being difficult and just sign the papers, Moses.” She said, her tone laced with a disdain that cut deeper than any argument we had ever had, and trust we had plenty.

But I refused to let it end like this, not without a fight.

“I ain’t signing nothing. I need to talk to you, baby. Alone. Please .”

“Mr. Mikaelson,” her attorney interjected quickly with bass in his tone as if he had no idea I would cut the same fucking throat he tried to check me with.

“My client is fully committed to moving forward with the divorce. If we cannot reach an agreement today, we will have to set a court date, and then the judge will make the decisions. We would prefer to avoid that route, as you both know your lives better than anyone. It is more beneficial if we can resolve the details of the divorce here.”

“Say, I’m done talking to you.” I warned, shooting that muthafucka a deadly glare.

“So, do not say another word to me about divorcing my wife, understand?” I was on the edge, ready to knock his bitch ass out of that chair and stomp him the fuck out.

It was just something about him that didn’t sit too well with me.

Again, my attorney tried to intervene, leaning in to whisper something in my ear, but I snapped before he could get a word out.

“Fuck off,” I said, locking eyes with him.

Ignoring the shock on everyone’s faces, I reached for Mary’s hand.

The red haze of anger that had clouded my vision began to fade, leaving me exposed in a way I did not give a fuck if others saw.

That was what she did to me… how she made me feel.

Just the touch of her skin against mine steadied me.

And finally, she gave a nigga eye contact.

Our eyes met for the first time in a long while, and my heart slammed even harder inside my chest as we stared at each other.

I clung to her hand like my life depended on it.

I needed her to see that I was not ready to walk away from everything we had built, from the love that still clung to the edges of our chaos.

But the words that left her mouth next told me she did not feel the same.

“Ain’t nothing changed with me, Moses. I still do not want to talk, and I still want a divorce.”

“Ain’t shit changed with me either, Mary. I still don’t want a divorce, and I ain’t signing them papers.”

“Then I will see you in court.”

∞∞∞

Marilyn

After the mediation meeting, I stood in the lobby, my mind still fixed on the show Moses had just put on.

I knew he could be the devil, but I didn’t expect him to show his ass in front of these people like that.

It got so bad, the mediator had to call security to escort him out, and they even threatened to call the cops.

My head was so far gone that I barely registered the sound of my attorney’s voice as he spoke.

“Mrs. Mikaelson?” The voice cut through my daze, firmer this time.

I blinked and turned toward it. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Woods. Yes?”

He studied me with a level of concern that I felt went beyond legal obligation. “Are you okay?” he asked, and the way his hand came to rest gently on my arm made me pause. It wasn’t the touch of a stranger. It felt… personal.

I let out a breath, the weight of everything settling on my shoulders. “No,” I admitted quietly. “But hopefully, my feelings will level out soon. I just…I don’t know.”

The truth was, I felt a whirlwind of emotions. When Moses touched me in that meeting, everything in me wanted to leap over that desk straight into his arms. I missed him, but I knew I had to stay strong. He had fucked up, and I could not let that slide. I loved him hard, but I valued myself more.

Mr. Woods nodded, his expression softening.

“I know this is hard, and today was disappointing. But do not be discouraged. These kinds of things often take time. We will keep moving forward, and I will make sure we stay on track to get you the resolution you deserve. I will file the paperwork to request a trial date sometime next week, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered, taking a deep breath. One day at a time , I thought.

Mr. Woods didn’t move right away. Just stood there with me for a few more seconds like he knew I needed to breathe before I could move again. Then, with a small nod and a brief smile, he stepped back and gave me space.

After he and I discovered that Moses was long gone, I made my way to the first floor, where my bodyguard and driver awaited me.

Fear was the last thing on my mind concerning Moses.

I knew he would never harm me. But I was certain he would try to get me to talk to him, and that was completely out of the question.

“Mrs. Mikaelson, can you tell us what prompted your decision to file for divorce?”

“Mrs. Mikaelson, how are you coping with everything?”

“Is there a chance this divorce will turn ugly, Mrs. Mikaelson? We saw that Moses was escorted out by security. Can you elaborate on that? Is there any violence we should be concerned about?”

“What is the real story behind your separation?”

Ignoring the paparazzi swarming outside and their relentless questions, I settled into the plush seats of the Maybach.

All of this attention was new to me. It seemed like the more hits Moses’s artists dropped, the bigger he was becoming.

His plan had always been to make his money and stay behind the scenes.

However, because the world had never seen talent discovered out of Melrose before, people wanted to know who was responsible for it, giving him an equal share of the spotlight.

“They just don’t give a damn about what a muthafucka is going through. But I’d be wrong if I ran their asses over.” My driver, Joe, said, shaking his head at how rude and intrusive the paparazzi could be.

I managed to laugh despite the turmoil in my heart. “Yeah…it’s messed up. But don’t run anyone over, then we will really be making headlines.”

We both shared a laugh, lightening the mood for a moment as I got comfortable in my seat. “Can you please turn up the radio, Joe?” I asked, hearing my favorite song come on from my playlist.

“Of course. You know I got you.”