It's as Simple as That.

The scent of deceit, pungent and overwhelming, fills the air after I open another heartless email from my estranged husband. The air gets colder, the room feels smaller, my breaths are shallow and suffocating, and the anger festers as if my skin is covered in burrs that constantly stab the open areas that are not yet pierced. The stunning news that he was leaving us behind and his cold and cruel demeanor is summed up in the phrase he repeated over and over as I pleaded for answers and conversation to his wildly abrupt decision: “End of. It’s as simple as that.” has been playing on loop in my mind for the past 4 months. These words may seem so simple in passing conversation, as if one were discussing basic instructions on a math equation or operating a washer and dryer. Still, these were the words that changed my children and me forever, and the ones that turned a once loving and generous human into a blank and stoic woman, buried in the hope of making the memory of him as distant as possible.

This relationship was anything but simple. It was a long, stressful journey for Grant to immigrate here to the USA. Filled with love (so I thought), hope, and vast endurance, the journey through the process of the K1 Visa is certainly not for the faint of heart. But I found out that the entire motive on his end was not fueled by love and devotion, but by the drive of a man filled with greed, lust, and the acting ability of an Oscar Award-winning individual, and the poker face of the devil himself. There is so much devastation served with this, as the heart of my profoundly autistic son’s feelings was involved and deeply affected, along with my daughter’s confusion about what a healthy love and marriage looks like; we were all duped. He was the closest to a father that my son had for over 3 years, as his biological father struggled with demons of his own. Grant proposed adopting him months before he asked for my hand in marriage, and my family and I were honored and delighted, as my son showed him the admiration a child would show his father. Who would have known that his love for my boy was as prosthetic in nature as the “love” he showered me with? This question is as rhetorical as the bullshit he fed my grandfather before he suddenly passed away while I was across the pond visiting him; the day after my 42nd birthday-the honorable man who raised me as his own. Grant asked for his permission and secured his trust that his granddaughter would be safe with him. Grant never mentioned that he would use her until she had nothing left and leave her on her birthday and the day after, being the first anniversary of his death. How is that for hindsight and a stab directly in the heart of the family that welcomed him with loving arms? A question I still haven't received any clarification for, and very well may never. Instead, he showed his respect by walking away in this man’s boots; literally, as my grandmother saw it fit to gift him these after we married. “He would want you to have these”, she said, with her soft eyes and loving grace. I will never fully understand how my husband had us all fooled, even the wisest woman I know, and how he could step on that airplane sporting these kicks in full confidence.

I still replay the day he left over and over in my mind, trying to make sense of the holes in the story that I may never really know. This was no ‘knock-down, drag-out’ fight. Rather, a contradiction in the feelings he regularly expressed. The process of remaining together was immensely challenging, and the tug-of-war with the government was not over even after we said our vows. Rather, they challenged us further after the marriage, prompting us to revisit the financial proof and my ability to sponsor him further. This was puzzling, as it was a non-issue when he came over before we married. Especially so after we were married, as the application to authorize him to work was also pending, which would allow him to contribute financially. We were pushing through, though, and have dealt with far greater adversity. He was once sent back promptly after he set foot on American soil, and another hardship was when I applied to marry him there in the UK; I was promptly denied due to the misconception on their part that I was not planning on leaving after the matrimony, regardless of the concrete ties I had in the USA. These are just a few examples. It seemed as though we could make it through anything after these near-defeating instances, but apparently not whatever this was and the diabolical plan between him and his family that I was certainly blind to.

His family seemed rather ordinary on the surface, as mine was more complicated and unconventional, in the traditional sense. As a child who suffered abuse and neglect from my mother and the men she allowed in my life, then rehomed with my maternal grandparents. I have had a troubled life and a diagnosis of PTSD, chronic anxiety, and rough spells of depression throughout my 43 years. He was from a more norm family dynamic: mum, dad, an older sister, and a younger brother, leaving him as the middle child. Although his father passed when he was in his early thirties, there were stories about his loving nature and grandious sense of humanity; this made it an honor to self-funnel this great man’s ashes into the custom-made wedding ring I got for Grant.

His mother, who had me refer to her as “Mum” and my children as “Nan,” seemed to have a loving and comical nature; I proudly presented her as my mother-in-law to others. She made us laugh quite often, passing wind unapologetically at any given moment with a grand smile and a carefree disposition reminiscent of a very happy toddler. Dorothy gave me the security of a mother that filled the void of the love I desperately craved from my own. In moments of despair I experienced in the tundra of chaos with my own mom, she would say, “Don’t worry, I am your mum now and will always love you.” The vulnerable little girl who was inside of me believed every last bit, and on February 11th, in a split second, her once-warm nature turned to cold stone for reasons still unexplained to me, and it is a clear depiction of where Grant’s deceptive nature was inherited from; I can see clearly now. I often found myself to be precocious since childhood, but the rose-colored glasses always seemed to slip on when it came to love, even so when she spoke poorly of her own troubled daughter and Grant’s older sister, Gloria.

Gloria was always kind to me up until about the same time. She never asked to be the “black sheep” of the family and earned it partly by having seven children by three separate fathers. Her mother and two brothers often expressed that she felt the need to give every man she met a baby, but it is apparent that she was in the same search for love as I. I found myself often in her defense when her immediate family picked her apart; therefore, I was not angered when she made a sad attempt to bash me in the Facebook comment section of my cry for help as he leaped back over the pond, yet frowned since she was advocating for a family that couldn’t care less for her and the ignorance she had about the situation at hand. I still wish her and her children well and pray she becomes educated in her own family dynamic, as she has lost the only discerning member of her family.

Peter, the youngest of Dorothy’s children, is an entirely different story. I could tell from the very beginning that he didn't care much for me and found his Type-A personality rather challenging to relate to. I sensed on every trip to England to visit my beau that he was intensely attempting to see through me and dissect my nature and intentions. I was never sure why, and I found myself with this Rubik's Cube of puzzling thoughts in my mind, trying to solve the puzzle of gaining his approval, as Grant seemed to look up to him as some wise prophet. Peter was very valiant in fulfilling the patriarch role that his father once possessed. This came with many lectures to Grant about his finances and employment decisions, and ultimately his choice to move to the States to be with his wife indefinitely. On the surface, during these visits, he was kind enough, but nearly every conversation felt like an interview. Peter’s girlfriend Carrie seemed to be the polar opposite of me; she was quiet and compliant with his agenda each day, and throughout my relationship with Grant I never knew her to challenge Peter in any way, which is why finding out about the affair she had a few months after we were married was a shock, to say the least. Peter phoned Grant from a hotel near her parents' home, where they reside, and informed him of the news. A few days later, Carrie reached out to my confused husband, pleading with him to ask his younger brother to wire her the money from their joint savings account. The news was startling, even more so when they decided to reconcile, and she announced her pregnancy just a few months after. All was swept under the rug, with no interference or voiced opinions from his family. It was difficult not to do the math and recognize the possibilities. Grant and I briefly discussed it between the two of us, but would never dream of whispering a word outside of it, as it was no business of ours. I couldn’t help but be flabbergasted, reflecting on a social media incident that occurred after our engagement, when we were still worlds apart. I was uncomfortable with a flirtatious comment from a female friend on his page, and Peter promptly recommended that he call off the marriage. This seemed so small compared to their situation, but I have witnessed these kinds of contradictions throughout my life and chalked it up to him making a desperate attempt to keep his big brother in England, where he fit perfectly under his thumb. Therefore, I was in no shock when he joined his sister in the public cruelty- further contradicting his relationship, in comparison to ours, as “perfect”. He joyfully told me that I was only upset because I was not “getting my way”; there I learned how much of a competition this was throughout the entire duration.

Now, four months later, my husband and I only communicate by hasty emails, and I tremble at the cold, heartless tone of his words, which I am positive are not his own but more than likely his brother’s. Grant’s verbiage has never been too sharp, as he abruptly quit school around the age of fourteen with the permission of his own mother. The conversations now are of the $3,200.81 he owes me, as I loaned it to him to save his own funds in the meantime for his green card application and work authorization fees. The 25K I poured into it all, with trips for us both to and fro and the many expenses in between, I find this amount to be fair, and it is insanely heartbreaking that it has come to this and that mine and my children’s pain is not even factored into the total. It seems the very least he could do after the immense amount of anguish, but I am seeing clearly now that it was all about this the entire time. A few days before he jumped, I was a little short on money and asked my grandmother for a loan, as the cold months of January and February are a slow time in my occupation, and I was waiting for Grant to gain employment so we could both pay off our joint debt. USCIS's abrupt demands were a setback, but in my mind, we would get through it, as we have many other hurdles before. Never mind the mental and emotional suffering, as I turned every corner to each room in my home, every store, traffic light, every article of clothing I wear, and so much more, stained with the residue of him and the prospect that we will never lock eyes again. The heartbreak and determination mean nothing, only the dry green paper that he was lusting after.

Hi Priscilla,

I’ve already explained that when my circumstances change, I will sort this out once and for all. I am still out of work and doing everything I can to find employment.

You are entitled to your opinion, but I know I have been honest about my current situation. I have not forgotten about any of this. I am simply not in a financial position to do anything right now. As I have explained several times, there is nothing further I can do until my circumstances improve. I cannot say when that will be, but I will reach out when they do.

I also want to be clear that I do not believe there is any outstanding loan or debt between us. However, I did agree to pay 50% once I am in a financial position to do so, and that commitment still stands.

I would appreciate it if the emails on this subject could stop, as I have already explained my position and there is nothing further I can do at present. I will return the boots and the pin badge once I am in a more stable financial situation.

For clarity, I have already informed USCIS that I am no longer in the country, and they are aware of that.

There is no cruelty so please stop with the false accusations and I won’t be engaging any further until my situation improves. I kept every single email for evidence.

Take care,

Grant

Sick to my stomach, yet again, and contemplating whether a reply will even have an impact, I begin to type, unsure if I will even hit send or if he will read with intent or skim by and send it over to baby brother as he stands behind him, towering over him with soft and unworked hands on his shoulders. At the same time, he solves all of his problems, as he always does. I turn as ice-cold as him and pray I can hold that stance.

Hi Grant,

I certainly do not believe you have not found some way of making an income or another vulnerable woman to take advantage of. Four months is far too long for the money-hungry greed that you possess.

This is not based on opinion. These are facts. You certainly have not forgotten, but will definitely continue to play this game to avoid any responsibility or accountability. You will not even give me the simple respect of closure, which is free of charge. You will not, because admitting you are a fraud is too damning to your ego. You say you take accountability, but that word has more syllables than the words you gave me to make anything make any logical sense. I did nothing other than ask for a little quiet time the night before. I was low on money at the time, which I am convinced was your only driving force throughout.

There is CERTAINLY an outstanding loan and debt, as I am stuck paying the credit card bills for all the expenses it took for us to remain together and get you YOUR green card and YOUR work authorization. These were not for me; I already have both. If you want to talk about 50%, then I can total up every other expense and halve them. It will be much more than 3K, I can guarantee you that.

They will stop once I have been paid or provided a logical explanation.

The entire situation is riddled with nothing but cold cruelty, and I truly hope you keep your “evidence” of the pain that you caused and the lives you have forever affected. There is no problem with ending a relationship, but the way you did it and WHEN was completely heinous and sinister.

Justice will certainly be served, and as you say, and have permission to paint this any color you'd like, “It’s as simple as that.”

"For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil. " Ecclesiastes 12:14

Your once loving and devoted wife,

Priscilla