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A GDWOODSBOOKS PUBLICATION
It Won’t Prosper by Genevieve D. Woods
First Edition: October 2016
Copyright © 2016 Genevieve D. Woods
All Rights Reserved.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Some places are real but they are not actual event unless cited. Otherwise, any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Get Ready: A New Miniseries Featured on www.gdwoodsbooks.com
It Won’t Prosper!
Hi Readers,
I would love to introduce you to Seth and Janine Owens.
Seth and Janine have been married for several years and are happy. Well, Janine is beginning to think there may be something wrong in their marriage. After hiring a private investigator, she discovers her husband is having an affair.
Janine, a woman of faith, is determined that she will not allow infidelity to break up her marriage. She exercises her faith and declares that no weapon formed against them shall prosper.
Please enjoy an excerpt from the miniseries featured on www.gdwoodsbooks.com. Subscribe to the newsletter to get first glances at new episodes.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to Deborah Dunson, who urged me to publish what was meant to be a free mini-series for my website and group.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to the members of facebook.com/groups/gdwoodsbooks/. Thank you for all the feedback and laughs we had with this mini-series.
A special thanks to my husband who has spent the past twenty-years being one with me. It’s because of our enduring and passionate love that I could write It Won’t Prosper.
Thanks to my fabulous and patient editor Melissa S. Harrison, and to Cover Artist JB Logic Covers.
Episode One
Janine
I look at the pictures one by one, over and over for what feels like hours. How could Seth do this to me, to what we have shared? We’ve been married for five years and dated for two before vowing in front of God, family, and friends to love each other like no other could until the breath left our bodies. Looking at these pictures of him greeting another woman with a kiss that he promised only to be for me, enfolding her in the arms that are designed to comfort me, taking her by the hand and leading her into the hotel to consummate a relationship with the love that was to cover me—is heartbreaking. The pain is like none I’ve ever felt. A broken heart feels like a machete has torn into my chest and swiftly sliced my heart into a million unrecognizable pieces.
In that pile of pieces is my trust in him.
In that pile of pieces is my dream for forever.
In that pile of pieces is my joy.
In that pile of pieces is my peace.
In that pile of pieces is my future.
In that pile of pieces is my naivety.
What is not in that pile is my faith in God and the belief that all things work together for the good, for those who love the Lord and are called according to his purpose. For this cause, I bow my knees and pray to my Father in Heaven for guidance and direction. As I pray, the verse that says a husband is sanctified by his believing wife comes to my shattered heart, and I feel the power of the Spirit mending my broken heart. I am still devastated by his actions, but I have sinned and come short of the glory of God in many different areas of my life. I continue with my prayers to my Father in Heaven that His will be done in my life and my relationship. I pray until my tears turn into determination that this unholy woman will not have my husband. I pray until I am positive that this will not be the end of my union with the man I adore, Seth Owens. I will fight this spiritual wickedness that has come against the harmony of my life with the most powerful weapon created . . . The word of God. My eyes are open, and I see my husband is not perfect. He has fallen into temptation, but greater is He that is within me, and I will not allow this attack on my marriage to prosper. This woman had better enjoyed these rendezvous; it will soon be over because she is about to be sidelined.
I finish my prayer by saying “In Jesus name, I pray.” I put the evidence of my husband’s betrayal back in the envelope the private investigator gave me, and I rise to put it into the back of my closet. But not before I write on it, no weapon formed against us shall prosper. I leave my home office where I do freelance writing for several faith-based magazines and children’s Christian books. I head toward the bathroom in the master bedroom that I share with my husband and head for the shower. In the shower, I let the disappointment wash off of me, and I resolve I will keep my vows to my husband and love him, like no other can.
I’m in the kitchen cooking dinner when I hear our home alarm system alert that the front door is opening. I still can’t get used to that monotone voice, but it is something he had to have. It’s been a few hours since my shower, and I’ve completed another book to send to my editor entitled Children’s Church. I am shocked to my core to see my tall, dark, and handsome husband enter the kitchen with a bouquet of beautiful flowers, but I wouldn’t be honest if I did not admit I get butterflies in my stomach. I love my husband. When he comes over and pulls me by my waist into his toned body, images of the pictures enter my mind. However, I don’t recoil from his embrace; I am the one who belongs in his arms, not her. He leans down to kiss me on the lips, and I return it completely loving the taste that I have known for years that is a mixture of his unique scent and his favorite gum. I love my husband. We kiss like we’re teenagers. Our kiss ends with the sound of the oven’s timer. Our dinner is ready.
“Honey, this meal is delicious. Did you get any writing done today?”
“Yes, I finished Children’s Church, completed some investigation projects, and even had some prayer time.”
“Babe, you are everything. All that and you made my perfect meal, Spaghetti and Meatballs, Fried Chicken, Green Beans, Yams. Corn Bread, and Apple Pie. I’m living the dream.” He reaches over to me and puckers his lips for a kiss. I oblige. While kissing him, I know this is the reason it took a private investigator to make me accept the truth about my husband. Seth has always treated me like his queen. He never yells, even when we disagree. He has always been supportive of my dreams. When I told him I wanted to leave the six figure career in journalism to concentrate on Christian writing, he said: “Just DO it.” Then there are moments like this after I cook for him, he showers me with appreciation like he is doing now. He has gotten up from his seat and scooped me up in his arms taking me into our boudoir, where the bed is undefiled.
As he makes love to me, possessively but tenderly, I can’t stop the tears from flowing as I try to push his betrayal out of my eyes. He must feel them as he stops his ministrations and positions himself to me look me in the eyes.
“Janine, sweetheart, why are you crying?” I decide to be upfront and honest.
“I love you so much, and I don’t want to lose you to anyone else.”
Episode Two
Seth
What did she just say? Can she
possibly know my secret, my weakness, my shame? My mind tells me no way, but my heart and my gut know different. I stop worshiping her body with my hands and mouth and lift myself to look into her eyes. The brokenness I see sends a dagger to my heart. She knows. How?
“Sweetheart, why are you thinking of losing me?” I ask hoping I am wrong, and she doesn’t know about or suspect my infidelity. I gently wipe the tears away from her beautiful caramel face with the tips of my thumbs. She allows me to do it, so I lean in to kiss each of her cheeks.
“Seth, I know.” She says in the softest whisper that I almost missed it. I stop again, but this time, my heart is beating so hard, I know she hears it.
“You know what, Janine?” Dear Lord, let this be about something else. If you can do this for me, I promise I will live for you. I think this prayer, knowing better that I can’t make deals with God when my actions have caught up with me. Janine is my everything. I don’t know why I have risked it all for someone that doesn’t matter.
“I know where you were this afternoon. I know where you were last Tuesday and all the Tuesdays before that.” She says that as more tears stream down. Guilt hits me like I’ve never felt. My wife, my love, is telling me she knows about my infidelity, in the sweetest way. I am an evil man. I rise off of her and off the bed. I can no longer look her in the eye. I put on the t-shirt I had previously discarded when I thought this night would end differently. I make my way over to the recliner in our bedroom and drop down there. I then look up at her while she sits up in the bed.
“Honey, I’m sorry. It means nothing. I won’t see her again.” Even to myself, that sounds lame, but all other words fail me.
“Why Seth? Have I not been good to you? What would make you need to go somewhere else?”
Episode Three
Seth
“Seriously? That’s your answer?” Janine looks at me with a raised eyebrow as she folds her arms over her breasts. She is waiting for a better answer; the only problem is I don’t have one.
“Babe, I’m sorry. I just got caught up. It doesn’t mean anything. I’ll end it.” I get up and walk toward the nightstand where my phone is on the charger. I will call Monica right now. She is not worth me losing my wife. I’ve always known that, but couldn’t stop seeing her. Now that my infidelity is exposed, it’s over.
“What are you doing?” She asks me with a look of incredulity.
“I’m calling Monica, to tell her it’s over.” I unplug my phone, scroll down my call list, and select the number for Monica. My wife looks on, and I’m feeling nervous about her calm demeanor.
Monica
I’m enjoying a nice hot shower, and the water is massaging my aching limbs. Seth always leaves me tired after our hook ups. I am thinking of all the ways we pleasured each other when I hear his ring tone, “Saving All My Love for You” by Whitney Houston. It's old school, but it rings true for my current situation. I don’t shut the water off, not wanting to miss his call, and almost trip over myself opening my shower door. I get it open and scurry to my phone, sitting on the counter, while I’m dripping wet.
“Hi, there, handsome.”
“Hi, Monica, I want to make you aware that I have placed our call on speaker, and my wife can hear us.” What the . . .? I’m not sure why I look at the phone, it’s not as if he called me via video chat, but I look at it all the same.
“Monica, are you there?” I hear Seth call out.
“Yes, I am here, and what is the purpose of your call?” Maybe he needs me to cover for him—or us—so we can continue. That is the only reason I don’t hang up in his face. He clears his throat before speaking.
“My wife is aware of our affair, and I am calling to let you know it’s over.” My breath catches in my throat, and I feel like he is ending my life, not just our affair. Do I respond to this? Can I form words to tell him this is not the end, I say how and when? That has been the nature of our affair for the past year and a half. I do what his wife can’t or won’t, and he caters to my needs. Surely, he is just saying this not to get kicked out of his house. But Seth doesn’t have to worry about a place, he pays my rent, he can live here. I choose not to act irrationally. I don’t hear his wife Janine saying a word, so I won’t either.
I only say, “Okay, Seth.”
I disconnect and get back in the shower that luckily is still hot. I will pretend like that conversation never happened.
Episode Four
Seth
I’m sitting at A & J’s Catfish Station after ordering Monica's and my lunch. I asked her here today to make sure she understands our affair has come to an end. The location on Knight Arnold, is one of her favorite spots, while the fried fish is southern cuisine I usually try to stay away from, but this is a parting gift of sorts. As usual, she is behind schedule giving me time to think about last night, and this morning with Janine. When Janine came out of the bathroom last night, she asked me to pray with her, and we did, praying for forgiveness and for the power of the Holy Spirit to allow us to be one as Christ designed couples to be. After the prayer, Janine gave me a tender kiss, and we got into our bed. I didn’t know what to expect, but she crawled into my arms as she did every night, and I had a sweet sleep. This morning, I awoke with my beloved wife on top of me, giving her body to me to satisfy my carnal needs. How could I risk losing her? What a fool I’ve been. When we finished making love, we showered together. She cooked me breakfast where we had a normal conversation. She even walked me to the garage and waved goodbye to me. As I backed out and let the garage door down, I promised myself—I would do right by her. That brings me here to this farewell lunch with Monica, who is walking in the door now.
Monica is a beautiful, tall, and sexy redbone. She turns heads wherever she goes, and she knows what a bad woman she is. Monica wears her hair cut short and keeps fire-red lipstick on her full, pouty lips. She has curves for days, in all the right places, and knows how to use them. I catch myself because these are the kind of thoughts that have led me astray. When she nears the table, I stand to pull out her chair.
To my surprise, before I can pull out her chair, she reaches for the back of my neck with both her hands and pulls me into her. She gives me the most sensual kiss in this catfish joint, which is most inappropriate. Janine was right; she didn’t get the message. As much as I have grown accustomed to her taste, I have to end this kiss and affair. I pull her arms down from around my neck and take a step back, pushing her away. I forfeit pulling her chair out and return to my seat. Monica stands there with her smeared, lipsticked mouth agape, and a stunned expression displayed across her face.
“Monica, please have a seat. I’ve ordered our lunch, and the food should be out shortly.” She reluctantly takes her place and scoots up to the table.
“Seth, why did you stop our kiss like that?” She inquires with her arched eyebrow raised.
“I’m a married man. We’ve never kissed in public like that, and you know it. Why would you do that today?”
“I figured you needed some comfort because of what that witch put you through last night. I mean, for you to call me and put me on the spot like that, she had to be holding you at gunpoint right?” Her words are laced with sarcasm and put me on immediate defense.
“No, not at all. Janine, my wife, found out about our affair. In an attempt to reassure her, that this relationship pales in comparisons to our marriage, I called you and ended it.” That was cold, but she had pissed me off. She knew her position was the side-chick. There was no need for her to be acting brand new to this situation. Monica gave an audible gasp but covered her mouth as a waitress came over with our lunch. I ordered us both the one-piece whole, fried catfish with fries and coleslaw platter with sweet iced tea to drink. The server was friendly, but my companion was not in the mood for niceties.
“Here y’all go, two whole catfish platters. Can I get God’s beautiful people anything else? Do y’all have enough sweet tea? Do—”
“We are fine, ma’am. We will raise our hand or
something if we need anything else,” Monica spewed out rudely. Janine would never behave in such a manner. She would taste the food and send her compliments to the chef even though this establishment employed cooks. Again I think to myself, how could I have risked it all for Monica, who is loading up her fish with so much hot sauce that I only see red. Red is what Monica must be seeing as she starts stabbing the entrée while giving me a death stare.
“So, why did you bring me here, Seth? Are you here to insult me? Will that make you feel better about cheating on your precious wife?”
“I’m not trying to feel better about cheating. I’m here to let you know I’m finished cheating.”
“Oh, you think it is that easy?” Ugh, she is talking with her mouth full, I hate that.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full of fish; it’s disgusting.” I look around for our waitress and wave my hand. I suddenly don’t want any food. She rushes over with a smile, and I see her name tag says, Gwen.
“Yes, sir, is something wrong with your food?” Gwen frowns at the uneaten food on my plate and looks at me with concern.
“No, ma’am, Mrs. Gwen. I have lost my appetite and would appreciate a carryout box if you don’t mind bringing me one.” Mrs. Gwen looks at Monica with an understanding look.
“I can see why you lost ya appetite, sweetie. Mrs. Gwen will take your plate and box it up for you, okay.”
We both look to the side as we hear a slam to the table. To no surprise, it is Monica with her fists pressed onto it.
“Listen, you old heifer.”
I rise to my feet and put my hand in a stop signal for Monica to shut her trap. I then turn to Mrs. Gwen.
“Mrs. Gwen, that would be wonderful if you could box it up for me. Please have someone else bring it out for me, okay?”
It Won't Prosper: Parable On Infidelity In Marriage Page 1
