Ruth Elizabeth O’Meade, née Jackson, will stop at nothing to make her marriage to the man of her dreams work. She believes they are a match made in Eden. But the bitter fruit of infidelity is threatening to destroy their paradise. The harder she fights to keep him, the more difficult it becomes.
When Ruth Jackson began dating Troy O’Meade, Esquire, it was to the disdain of Troy’s overbearing mother, Caroline O’Meade. But Ruth and Troy’s love for each other was stronger than Caroline's hatred towards Ruth, so they got married. Unfortunately, as fate would have it, Ruth was unable to have children, and that was a deal breaker for her powerful lawyer husband.
The harder Ruth fights to keep the man she loves, the deeper his mother pushes him into another woman’s arms to fulfill his desires, causing Ruth to flee. Blinded by rage from Troy’s infidelity, Ruth is rendered temporarily insane, and is involved in a fatal accident.
That tragedy forces love to grow wings and fly into the muscular arms of forever, aka Blake Alexander Walker, a celebrity pastor. But she is a fugitive in love, bound by the sins of her past.
Ruth Elizabeth O’Meade, née Jackson, will stop at nothing to make her marriage to the man of her dreams work. She believes they are a match made in Eden. But the bitter fruit of infidelity is threatening to destroy their paradise. The harder she fights to keep him, the more difficult it becomes.
When Ruth Jackson began dating Troy O’Meade, Esquire, it was to the disdain of Troy’s overbearing mother, Caroline O’Meade. But Ruth and Troy’s love for each other was stronger than Caroline's hatred towards Ruth, so they got married. Unfortunately, as fate would have it, Ruth was unable to have children, and that was a deal breaker for her powerful lawyer husband.
The harder Ruth fights to keep the man she loves, the deeper his mother pushes him into another woman’s arms to fulfill his desires, causing Ruth to flee. Blinded by rage from Troy’s infidelity, Ruth is rendered temporarily insane, and is involved in a fatal accident.
That tragedy forces love to grow wings and fly into the muscular arms of forever, aka Blake Alexander Walker, a celebrity pastor. But she is a fugitive in love, bound by the sins of her past.
“The lying viper that hissed this and they lived happily ever after deceit, should be imprisoned for life!” Ruth Elizabeth O’Meade growled to herself. “My prince did come, but not with a charm, but a curse. My knight had no shining armor, but a sharp dagger that drilled a permanent hole straight through my heart,” she continued, fighting back the impending tears. Vehemently, she slammed her front door shut behind the last representative of Intimate Dining for Lovers, a catering company she had hired to decorate and cater at home this special night. It was her three-year wedding anniversary to Troy O’Meade, a wealthy thirty-three-year-old trial lawyer in Orlando, Florida. But sadly, she had just asked the company to take back their exotic, tasty cuisine, fruit, expensive wines, candles, centerpieces and violinists that came with the package. Flushed with humiliation, she handed them a huge tip on top of the already pricey bill, hoping they would be so giddy with the figure displayed on the check that they’d not have time to ruminate on the lonely woman they’d left behind. The grandiosity was meant to be a surprise for Troy, but he’d never come home.
Wiping away unwelcome tears streaming down her face, she strutted into their dining room and plopped herself on a chair around the dining table. While nursing a broken heart and attempting to fortify a weary spirit, she slightly leaned forward, took a crystal wine glass and a bottle of wine from the copper pail of ice, poured a drink and began taking sips of the sweet spirit, hoping it would wash away her troubles and soothe her pain. But it was another evening alone in a house she dreamed was a home, a married life she wanted to live in and enjoy, not just exist in and endure. “Why am I still stuck in a stagnant, unsatisfying relationship with Troy? Why do three short years feel like fifty choking ones?” she questioned herself. Refilling her wine glass, she murmured, “As painful as it is, I love him. I am not giving up on us. I won’t!” Through teary eyes, she saw that the grandfather clock in the corner read 11:50 p.m. As she drained the wine bottle, she began feeling drowsier and drowsier, praying nonetheless that though he had not showed up earlier he would still be coming home to her, but the only thing came to her was sleep. Ruth had all the material possession her heart desired, but was devoid of the thing she wanted most, and yearned passionately for, and that was the love of her husband, Troy “Fierce” O’Meade.
Troy, a self-made millionaire from Atlanta, Georgia, earned the nickname “Fierce” because he was a trial lawyer in both civil and criminal litigation who took almost impossible cases and made them into high-ranking triumphs. He had good reliability, solid confidence, keen focus and he was super competitive. In the court room, he was known to have the spirit of a lion and the swiftness of an eagle, but to act cool as a dove. He was gorgeously intimidating in appearance and had the kind of face that would make cherubim blush and seraphim self-conscious. Women fell for him effortlessly. Unfortunately for Ruth, she’d married an only child who was the victim of parental pressure to procreate. Regrettably, during the first year of their marriage, they discovered that Ruth was infertile. That was an indictment. She hoped that tonight they would discuss her decision to attempt the fertility drug, again, even though she’d been warned by the fertility specialist that her health would be threatened by the procedure.
It was 3 a.m. when she forced her eyes open after crying herself to sleep on the couch earlier. “Jesus!” she cried, shakily rubbing her aching head, which was pounding like a bass drum. Slowly, she stood for a moment without moving, but not trusting herself to walk. She sat back down for a few minutes, ignoring the empty wine bottle on the floor and the overturned wine glass on the vanilla-colored carpet beneath the coffee table. The large red wine spill staining the rug next to the glass served as evidence that it had fallen during her stupor.
She got up and slowly began ascending the stairs to their master bedroom. It was raining outside, she thought, but getting closer to the bedroom, she realized that the flowing water she heard was coming from the shower in their bedroom. It was Troy, taking a shower after 3 a.m. Nothing seemed to hurt Ruth anymore, but her heart that began accelerating and the rage she’d felt earlier returned. She paused on the steps and coached herself. “Be calm. It’s ok. Be calm.” Again, she slowly walked towards the bedroom. She paused in the passageway, wondering if she should enter or go cool off in the guest room. Against her better judgement, she entered their master bedroom. The bathroom door was opened and she could see Troy behind the frameless glass shower door taking a shower. His bunch of keys was on the bed, along with an unfamiliar set of semiformal clothes he must have just taken off. Must be a gift, she thought, sitting on the bed beside his clothes. She sniffed his shirt. It was drenched in an unknown female fragrance, with brown powder smudges all over the shoulders, and her heartbeat raced. Anger and jealousy threatened her sanity. She wanted to swear or break something. Nevertheless, she closed her eyes, breathed a silent prayer for strength, threw his shirt on the floor and heatedly waited on him to exit the shower.
Minutes later, Troy left the shower, looking as fresh as a daisy. He grabbed the bath towel from the towel rack and wrapped it around his athletic body. After gazing at himself briefly in the foggy bathroom mirror, he turned on his heel to enter the bedroom. Startled, he stopped in his tracks when he saw Ruth sitting on the edge of the bed; her angry brown eyes gazed into challenging grey ones and an emotional time bomb was getting ready to explode out of her. He broke the glare, cleared his throat and walked over to the dresser, took a boxer and a white tank top out, then headed back to the bathroom. A million questions raced through her mind like a Bugatti Chiron on the racetrack, but the fastest ones were, What should I say to this man? Should I bring up his no-show or keep quiet? Either way an argument is inevitable.
Then his cell phone rang, derailing her train of thoughts and crashing her into a higher tumult of misery because it was Paula St. Claire! Ruth knew it was her calling him. Troy hastened from the bathroom, fighting to thrust his hands through his tank top so he could grab the phone on time before it ceased ringing. He succeeded, turned his back to Ruth and spoke to the other person. “I can’t talk right now.” Ruth strained to eavesdrop. Troy listened for a short while without saying another word to the caller, besides, “Yes.” And then he hung up. Immediately she sprung off the bed and the bomb detonated.
“Really, Troy O’Meade! Really? Who was that, huh? It was your homewrecker again. Wasn’t it?” she blasted.
He spun around angrily, “Who are you, my mother? Do not address any acquaintance of mine in such a manner, Ruth! You are out of control! Besides, don’t question me like I am a child. I am not your bloody child! I’m a grown man,” Troy shot back.
“It is 3:55 a.m. No normal friend calls at this inappropriate time!” she shouted. “Besides, I could hear her voice from here! Where were you earlier?” she demanded.
“Oh, so this is what it’s all about!” Troy flared. “You know what? I am sick of this!” He stormed out of the room and dashed towards the guest room down the short corridor.
Ruth shot off behind him shouting and screaming angrily, “Answer me! I am your wife for Heaven’s sake! I don’t deserve to be treated like this!” But before she could say another word or catch up with him, he quickly entered the guest room and slammed the door shut, creating permanent space between them. “Darn you! I hate you!” she screamed. “Open the door!” She held the door handle and rattled it, bellowing, hammering on the door at an increasingly rapid space, “Open the door! Open the door!” But he refused to let her in or respond to her angry outbursts. “Troy!” Bang, bang! “Troy!” Bang! Bang! “Troy! I know you can hear me. Open the door. I need to talk to you!” She kept beating on the door and shouting, but there was still no answer. Blinded by tears, she stood there a long time, staring at the closed door. Ultimately, she retreated, knowing he would never let her in or respond.
Feeling vanquished, she rested her forehead on the guest bedroom door and said softly, “Troy, please. Let us talk. I am sorry. I know we can fix us. I promise. I am sorry if I overdramatized. Let’s just talk. Please,” she begged. “I will do whatever you want for us to work. I love you, Troy. Please. Please talk to me,” she cried, pouring her heart out to him at the door. “I love you Troy. She can’t love you the way I do. Please, I beg you, don’t give up on us. We can go to counseling. I know we can work,” she said as she cried at the door. Feeling like her heart was falling from her chest, she continued. “Troy, please, your love is like oxygen to me. Don’t deny me of it. Baby, please.” After much pleading from her and what seemed to be permanent silence from him, she returned to their master bedroom, flung herself across the bed and cried an ocean.
Exasperated, he laid in the guest room motionless, drained of the fights that controlled their lives. He needed a child, and the prospect of not having one was not something he had signed up for. She knew how much having a child, especially a son to carry on his legacy, meant to him. His dream was to be successful, not just as his father was, but even more than he was, if possible. Troy had never just wanted to be seen as Edward Brian O’Meade, II’s son. Yes, he and his adopted brother James had their parents’ wealth to inherit, but he wanted to earn his own; make his own path and achieve his own success.
His father, the late Honorable Edward Brian O’Meade, II, had over forty years of experience as a trial judge, presiding over many real-estate-related disputes. Troy, upon the passing of his parents, would inherit acreage totaling millions. In the United States, Edward owned thousands of square miles of hunting grounds in South Carolina and Texas. He also had thousands of acres of land in the Algarve region of Portugal plus office buildings in New York. Troy did not glory in hand-me-downs. He welcomed it and was grateful, but he had dreams of his own and he refused to slow down or be distracted.
His busy work life served as an avenue to let out his frustration on his dying marriage. He loathed failing. That was never in his book. He’d never failed at anything before, but now he was failing at his marriage and it bothered him. Right now, he was too tired to be taken on an emotional rollercoaster ride with Ruth, again. As he laid there on the bed, his train of thought began riding down memory lane to the first time they’d met, at a Starbucks in downtown Orlando. It was almost love at first sight for the playboy. They’d bumped into each other when Ruth spun around abruptly, heading to the door after taking her coffee from the cashier. “I’m sorry,” said Troy, stooping to pick up the bagel that he’d accidently knocked from her hand, but she’d hissed through her teeth, looked past him and continued walking toward the exit. He quickly rushed ahead of her and opened the door so she could exit. She cut her eyes at him and blazed past without a thank you for opening the door or sorry for bumping into you. She was annoyed, and he was amused by the incident. He thought she was gorgeous. She thought he was clumsy. Ruth’s acclaimed cover-girl facial features were to die for, he thought. She was alluring and electrifying, and the minute he saw her, he wanted to put his “wild boy” days in the house of the dead.
Prior to the incident, he had noticed that she was friendly with one of the members of staff, who he also knew quite well. Troy went over to the staff member and coerced him to divulge Ruth’s information. The staff told him that Ruth got her coffee there every morning at 8 a.m. That was the beginning of Troy’s quest. He would present himself at that Starbucks every time she was there. One thing was for sure about Troy, he was tenacious, and never took no for an answer.
During his pursuit, she found out who he was, and she was not staggered by his prestige. As a matter of fact, she did not want to have anything to do with him. She believed a relationship with someone like Troy O’Meade had meant trouble, based on the grapevine. Infidelity trouble and all other kinds. He, on the other hand, would not accept her rejection, but was relentless at winning her heart and found her resistance of him very refreshing. He had never been turned down by a woman, and he had no intention of letting Ruth be his first defeat. So, he sought after her desperately and fervently. His presence was seen, and his intentions were known at every opportunity he got. He made her friends his friends, her wishes his command, her needs his priority, her wants his concern, and eventually, her heart his own. She relented and married him. Much to the displeasure of his mother, Caroline O’Meade, who thought that by marrying Ruth, Troy was marrying way beneath him.
Caroline had done all she could in her power to discourage Troy from marrying Ruth. She’d tried every trick in the book to sabotage their relationship, but nothing had worked, for he was determined to marry her. Caroline was always number one in Troy’s life, so she saw Ruth as her replacement. His commitment and defense of Ruth angered her. As sleep began forcing Troy’s eyelids closed, he wondered if he should have listened to his mother’s counsel after all and not married Ruth.
The next day it was mid-morning when the house phone rang and woke Ruth from her slumber. She grabbed it from the nightstand and spoke groggily. “Hello, hello,” she said, but no one answered. Then the caller hung up. Before rolling back over on the bed the phone rang again. “Hello,” she answered.
“Troy will not stay with you,” said the other woman on the phone, in a heavy British accent. “I am the one he loves. You shall see proof of that very soon.” Then there was a dial tone before Ruth could respond.
“Wretch!” Ruth said, angrily flinging the phone in the wall.
After a moment, Ruth sprung from the bed heatedly, retrieved the phone from the ground and attempted to trace the call, but the caller ID was blocked. She despised Paula’s audacity in calling her home twice in the last 24 hours. Ready to tell Troy what just happened, she searched the house for him. “Troy! Troy!” she called out a few times, but there was no answer. She went downstairs and looked in the garage—his car was gone. He had left. She started dialing his phone, but recalled their previous episode and hung up.
Thinking aloud, she questioned herself, “Should I even say anything to him? What am I going to do?” She asked pacing the living room while her stormy emotions took over, and her eyes became like a broken cistern pouring bitter, uncontrollable tears. She felt defeated and lost, so she dialed her best friend, Tracey Howard.
“Hey girl. How did it go last night?” asked Tracey excitedly. “Any luck with Mr. gentleman?” Tracey’s questions were answered by snuffles on the other end of the phone. “Ruth, oh my gosh! What’s going on? Talk to me!” she urged as her concern escalated into worry. But Ruth could not find the words to speak. “Look, I’m on my way over there to see you, like yesterday!” Tracey placed the home phone on the kitchen counter and yelled at the top of her lungs to her part-time housekeeper, “Gretchen, I’m heading to Ruth’s. Ask Patrick to call me when he gets home!” Then out the door she went, before her busy housekeeper responded. Tracey’s husband, Patrick Howard, was a police detective in Orlando, Florida, where they resided.
When Tracey walked into her friend’s mini-castle house and saw her seated in the living room, Tracey was in disbelief at how tired and worn out Ruth looked. Seeing Tracey, Ruth flew into her embrace and bawled even more. After a long time, she released herself from Tracey’s embrace, sat on the couch and through tears, explained what had happened within the past twenty-four hours. Then she asked, “What am I going to do? I am so tired of fighting Tracey.”
Tracey listened intently, concealing her anger at Troy. She was so over him and his nonsense. “Ruth, listen, you must stop doing this to yourself. Look around you,” Tracey said, casually gesturing at their physical environment. “He is never home. He treats you like crap and you keep letting him. Why do you choose to live in denial?”
“Stop saying that Tracey! We’re experiencing some rough weather in our marriage. It will be summer again. All couples experience climate change.”
“Yours is an emotional drought that is so severe your heart is cracked from its dryness and your soul’s dusty from lack of years of attention, Ruth.”
“Yes, but the heat of love still burns in my heart for him, Tracey,” she said quietly.
“That is the bloody problem! It is only within you that it burns. The feeling is unshared. Your love is burning like fire and his is as cold as the north pole. Go figure.”
“Troy loves me! You’re just being hateful! I know you don’t like him.”
“No. I don’t like the way he’s treating you. This is ridiculous! You need to stop defending him and stop letting this cocky bastard treat you this way.”
“He’s my husband!”
“Who treats you however he feels!”
“Don’t say that. He does not!”
“Yes, honey, he does. I know it is not the sweetest thing to hear but—”
“No buts! No buts!” Ruth said springing from her seat. “You know how it is.”
“No, I don’t know how it is Ruth! This has been going on for far too long. You have got to stop this.”
“Don’t judge me Tracey!” Ruth said angrily.
“You can’t—" Tracey began but Ruth waved her hand, signaling her to stop.
“Look at you and Patrick. Did you know you two would work out? You never had it easy either,” Ruth defended.
“No,” said Tracey. “We did not. But the problem was me. I personally sought the help I needed to save my marriage so I could have and hold the man I love. Troy is the problem Ruth, not you. It’s always a verbal boxing ring in this house. Not to mention his family, who constantly sides with him, regardless of whether he’s right or wrong. He does not want counselling and the more you tried, the more he resisted.” Tracey walked over to Ruth, held her hands, and continued, “Look at me Ruth.” When Ruth held up her head and looked at her, Tracey said, “Yes, I know you’re upset, but you deserve better. You cannot live this way.” Ruth knew she was right, and that Tracey’s anger was coming from a caring place.
“He won’t listen to me or anyone. What do I do now?” Ruth plead.
“Sweetie, you know what you have to do. My job as your friend is not to tell you how to run your life—not that you would listen to me or anyone for that matter. We want to see you happy again.”
“You know,” Ruth said wiping her eyes, “I’m going to talk to Troy one last time. I just have to try, Tracey.”
“But how?” asked Tracey, “He won’t listen to you. You have been down this road countless times and it only ends in a verbal battle.”
“Then what would you propose that I do then, since you seem to know it all.”
“Will you stop? I’m just trying to help.”
“Okay, then help and stop making me feel worse! What would you propose that I do?”
“Ruth, I don’t know.”
“Then this is my marriage. Let me handle it my way. I will talk to Troy and make him listen to me! Stay out of if!” she said dismissively. Immediately, Tracey’s cell phone rang and cut into their conversation. Reluctantly she looked at the screen and saw that it was her helper and quickly answered it. When she got off the phone she said,
“I am sorry Ruth, but I have to go and get Shara-Lee. The school called said she has a fever. I’ll come back when I get her. Okay?”
“Don’t worry, you don’t have to. I’ll call you if I need you. I promise.” They hugged and Tracey left. Upon her departure, Ruth decided to find Troy and speak with him. She was determined to hold on to her husband and her marriage. She was not giving up on them.
Ruth and Tracey had vowed to be best friends and never keep secrets from each other in first grade in St. Augustine, Florida. The main thing they shared was their humble beginnings. Tracey’s father, Thomas McCormick, was a farmer. His wife, June McCormick, a schoolteacher, died in her sleep when Tracy was a child. Thomas never remarried. Tracey and her two older sisters worked hard and helped their dad put them through universities. Today, they were all successful women with doctoral degrees in their respective professions, doing well, with families of their own. Tracey became a gynecologist and was contemplating opening her own practice.
Ruth’s parents had a tumultuous ten-year marriage and separated right after she graduated elementary school. Her dad left and joined the U.S. Air Force and never returned home. She watched her mother sink into a deep depression, to the point that she was hospitalized and died shortly after being diagnosed with stage four breast cancer. Ruth then moved in with Tracey’s family. Her final year in high school, she landed a short modeling gig with a famous clothing line, and the following year, while attending the University of Central Florida, she won the Ms. Florida State beauty pageant. Today she was a head-turning twenty-nine-year-old executive professional with a master’s degree in marketing and hospitality management working at a fortune 500 company as their chief marketing officer. This career introduced her to her current rival, Paula St. Claire, Caroline’s first choice of a wife for Troy and the woman he was allegedly having an affair with, which he constantly denied.
Paula was born and raised in London, England, and had moved to the United States on a full scholarship to Harvard University, where she obtained a MBA. Her wealthy British family owned a chain of international all-inclusive five-star hotels, the St. Claire International Hotels and Suites. Ruth and Paula met at a travel agency seminar in Daytona, Florida. Paula was attending the same seminar with her famous father, John Theodore St. Claire, the international hotel mogul. The two got on famously until Ruth introduced Paula to Troy. The minute Paula laid eyes on Troy, she was determined to stop at nothing to get him. Because of Paula’s connections in the hospitality market, Ruth gladly embraced her friendship, hoping that Paula would introduce her to some powerful connections in the hotel business, because of the influence her family had in that arena. However, Paula’s focus was dead set on an affair with Troy, not on Ruth and her ambitions. But if befriending Ruth would get her in Troy’s arms, then so be it.
When in-laws and naysayers do not know their place, this can have disastrous effects on a marriage. However, in-laws and naysayers can only break a marriage if one or both parties in that marriage allow the interference to cause a rift. In Infidelity & Forgiveness, Maxine Greene spins a cautionary tale about in-laws, friendship, marriage, deception, wisdom (or lack thereof), commonsense, guilt, anger, fear, secrets, pride, recklessness, dishonesty, disrespect, buffoonery, infidelity, forgiveness, and redemption.
The author has done a fantastic job of putting on paper something that is all too common today. You will not take long to complete this suspenseful romance because Maxine Greene’s style of writing will make you want to move quickly from one chapter to the next. There is a tinge of reality on every page and that’s what makes this such an excellent read. There are very few persons who can read Infidelity & Forgiveness and not recognize something familiar about relationships today.
Every mother-in-law (especially those who feel the need to choose their children’s spouse) should read Infidelity & Forgiveness. Perhaps this could teach them how to stay in their lane and not be so interfering when it comes to the relationship of their children.
Every woman (especially those who believe they can change a man) should read Infidelity & Forgiveness. Perhaps this would teach them to love themselves more than any man and to open the door wide whenever a man decides that he wants to go.
Every man (especially those who do not think before they act) should read Infidelity & Forgiveness. Perhaps this would teach them to be less pompous when it comes to relationships.
While this is a work of fiction this could easily be ripped from the headlines.