"What do you do in shipping?" my mother asked Tyrone.
"I’m the chairman of the board, actually."
"Oh" was all my mother could say.
"Did you say you were the chairman of the board?"
"Yes sir. I lost my father recently, and I had to step in and run the company."
"Which he hates," I threw in.
"Actually, Avonte, I’m starting to get into it," Tyrone said, and put his arm around me and I almost fainted; but it was about to get deeper than that very soon.
"Well, thank you for coming out to see our girl walk," my father said. "If you are looking for a English major with a lot of drive and initiative, that’s your girl."
"I know that, sir. I’m sure that Avonte will make an excellent addition to anybody’s staff. But I was hoping that she would be interested in accepting a different position."
"What position is that?" I wanted to know.
We had talked many times over the years about what I wanted to do when I graduated, but he never mentioned anything about a job at his company. Since we really weren’t seeing each other on a regular basis, I had naturally assumed that he had moved on to somebody new, and I was just an occasional convenience. So I was surprised that he even showed up. And now he was about to offer me a job. Making big money, I hoped.
Tyrone looked at me, and then at my parents, before turning back to me. "I want to marry you, Avonte. Would you be my wife?"
So there my parents were, two simple black folks from the Bronx, and this rich white man just asked if he could marry their daughter. Needless to say, they were in shock, and so was I. I truly didn’t see that coming.
I stood there speechless, truly not believing the words that came out of Tyrone’s mouth. My father looked at me. "Avonte!
"
"Huh?"
"Ain’t you gonna answer the man?" my mother asked.
"Would y’all excuse us for a minute? I need to talk to Tyrone," I said, grabbing Tyrone by the hand and leading him anyway from my parents.
"Did you just ask me to marry you?"
"Yes Avonte. I love you, and I want to marry you. Do you want me to get down on one knee?" And then he actually started to do it.
I grabbed him before he got down there. "No."
He reached in his pocket, took out a ring box and handed it to me. I excitedly opened the box to reveal a platinum engagement ring with the biggest diamond I’d ever seen. He took the box from me and took the ring out of the box. He took my left hand and eased the ring on my finger. "What do you say, Avonte? Will you marry me?"
There was no way I was taking that ring off my finger, nor was I going to refuse to marry a millionaire. "Of course I will. I mean, the ring fits and all," I said, and held out my hand.
"Right; and it looks so good on your beautiful hand," Tyrone said, and kissed it.
That was five years ago, and during that time, we had what I considered, a very happy marriage. One filled with great sex, travel around the world, and of course, there was the money. Lots and lots of money; and I loved having money.
But all that changed about six months ago. Tyrone started spending more time at work and less time with me. "We are right in the middle of a major acquisition—one that will make us a much stronger company. I know you’re not happy about this, but once it’s a done deal, I promise to make it up to you, darling." He was right. I wasn’t happy about it, but I had no choice but to except it.
I rolled along, finding new things to occupy my time. I even volunteered for this charity and that charity, but then Tyrone came home one day and said we needed to talk. I joined him in the living room, and sat down of the couch. Tyrone chose to stand.
"What do you want to talk about?" I asked.
"I want a divorce."
Just like that.