I didn’t doubt Jeremy’s sincerity. He had begged me just about every day in every conversation we had for another chance. But I was like that tree planted by the water, and when Jeremy finally realized that I could not be moved, he’d told his attorney to give me whatever I wanted. I’d been hurt, but I wasn’t vindictive, so through our attorneys, we worked together for a settlement that was fair.

His pleas hadn’t ended there, though. Jeremy asked me for another chance right up until the moment I signed my name on those papers, ending our union and his chances.

"So, how was the anniversary celebration?" I asked, bringing my thoughts back to the present.

"It was nice.” She nodded. “I’m glad I went. It was a far cry from the drama of the tenth anniversary."

I shook my head as I recalled that fiasco. On the day of the tenth anniversary celebration, my children and I were on Interstate 81, still five hours away from my mother’s home in Dallas. But while I didn’t show up, Sharonne did. With her baby boy in tow.

Dru had filled me in (and Lizzy had done the same for my mom) on every word and every moment of the debacle: How Sharonne had slinked down the center aisle of the church, wearing one of her signature spandex dresses, while Jeremy gave his sermon of appreciation for all that God had done for him. How he’d started to stutter when he noticed Sharron and even though he’d signaled the deacons, it was too late to stop her. How she’d shouted above the noise (somehow, the church band had begun playing a song in the middle of the madness), telling Jeremy that it was time for him to introduce his son to his congregation.

And how when after Sharonne’s announcement and hell had broken loose, Jeremy had broken out. The deacons had shuttled him out of and away from that church and he hadn’t been seen or heard from for a week after that. The only way I was sure he was all right was that he called the kids diligently every evening to ask about their day and to tell them good night.

But he didn’t show up again in public until the following Sunday, standing on the pulpit before his congregation with tears already sliding down his cheek. He’d cried out his mea culpa, “Forgive me Lord, for I have sinned,” taking me all the way back to our beginning.

When Dru had told me that story, all I could do was thank God for making sure the kids and I were already twelve hours into our seventeen hour drive away from D.C.

“I had nightmares about that anniversary for weeks after.” Dru shook her head. “That’s why I just never went back to New Kingdom, until today.”