“Yes, our heartbeats,” I said. “Our oldest is seven. Our daughter is five.”

Even though I smiled, this was an uncomfortable part of our lives for me. The producers of the show had asked for our children to be on with us, but I had nixed that. I always tried to operate from my faith and push aside fear, but it was difficult when it came to our children because of what Jeremy and I had endured over the years. We’d had women stalking Jeremy constantly and a few guys had gotten too close to me. We’d received hate mail from folks who said we were going to burn in hell because of Jeremy’s prosperity preaching and even had people turn up at our door, claiming to be relatives so often, we’d finally moved to this exclusive neighborhood three years ago where gates were around every home and President and Mrs. Obama had moved to last year after their years in the White House.

So, I wasn’t excited about my children being around too many people I didn’t call friends. Last year, Jeremy had tried to assuage my concerns by hiring bodyguards — one for him, one for me and a part-time one who protected our children when they were out of our sight. Still, I kept our children’s faces away from all of the lights-cameras-action that had become Reverend Jeremy William’s life.

"Our children are the biggest blessing of all in the last ten years. And we’re trying our best to give them a normal life.”

“Well,” Angela sat back in her chair a bit, “that's going to be difficult because Reverend Williams, word on the street is that you're about to get your own television show," Angela said.

It was shock that made our eyes widen. That was true, but it was a top-secret truth, known only by our closest associates.

Before we could say anything, Angela waved her hand and said, “Don't worry, your secret is safe with me.” And then, she laughed.

Did she think this was funny?

She explained, “Clearly, I have my sources, so we won’t air this until after the press release is mailed out next week.”

Behind the camera, Dru’s eyes were as wide as mine and she shook her head. I knew she wasn’t denying anything, she didn’t have to; Dru was my ride and die. There was nothing but shock all over her face.

Jeremy said, "Wow, so, you even know about the announcement.”

"A good reporter is willing to do her homework...and willing to do other things.”

Angela was ridiculous, over the top, but I wondered how many times I’d said those same words over the years. Women flirted with my husband right in front of my face, giving him their numbers, asking if he would stop by their homes for prayer, letting their hands linger for too long all over his body. I was living the life of my mother, the life that I’d promised myself I’d never accept. But I’d accepted it, embraced it, while giving up so many of my dreams to make sure Jeremy fulfilled his.