Chapter 10: The Road to Removal Pt.2

Hey sis, I hope you had time to read and received my letter of apology. Things haven’t been the easiest lately but I want to stay committed to you to myself and to this cause. So with that being said lets jump right into it.

Now, Where were we…

Through all my research, I started learning more than I ever thought I would — not just about Cipher, but about myself. The deeper I dug, the more I came face-to-face with the truth of what I was living through. I understood the danger, I knew it was real… what I didn’t know was just how much worse it would get before it got better.

I held onto my rituals like they were life rafts — journaling, exercising, anything to keep my stress from swallowing me whole. But the more I wrote, the more I moved, the more I searched for answers… the more mentally drained I became. My brain felt like it was running on empty. I knew I needed to rest.

But real sleep? That was never an option. I never felt safe enough to fully let go, not in a home where Cipher slept next to me. So I learned to find rest in other ways. I’d sneak in short moments of peace during the day while he was gone. Meditating helped. Sometimes just sitting in front of the TV and letting the noise drown out my thoughts was all I could manage.

One of the biggest acts of self-care during that time was stepping away from social media. That was a huge source of stress for me. I was constantly comparing my pain-filled reality to the highlight reels of other women’s lives — the perfect marriages, the smiling family photos, the loving captions. And then there was Cipher’s feed…

He had mastered the art of manipulation through social media. He painted himself as this incredible, doting father — always posting sweet tributes about me and the girls. The world adored him for it. Women I didn’t even know would flood his comments with praise:

“You’re such an amazing dad.”
“She’s so lucky to have you.”
“I love how you love her.”

If only they knew.

If only they could see behind the filter. If they had a bird’s-eye view of what life was really like in our home, their words would’ve dried up instantly. But instead, those lies were used as weapons. Cipher would throw them in my face whenever he needed to put me in my place.

“You know women would love to be you, right?”

He’d smirk like he was doing me a favor just by existing.

But I started tuning it all out. I had to. I stopped engaging with the noise, stopped feeding into the fake reality. I turned inward instead, focused on what I could control — and that meant quietly, steadily organizing my escape plan.

The first real step toward organizing my escape plan was figuring out how to build some type of financial independence — or at the very least, a steady stream of income. I knew I couldn’t leave Cipher without money, and I knew that no one was going to hand it to me. So, I decided to go back to work. I returned to Applebee’s and — believe it or not — convinced Cipher that he should take a break from working.

It wasn’t hard. He jumped at the chance. Anything that meant less responsibility on his end, he welcomed with open arms. He was excited about it. And me? I was just grateful for a chance to re-enter the workforce and take one more step toward freedom.

Only a few weeks in, I met someone who would unknowingly change the entire trajectory of my life. Let’s call him Jimmy. He was one of my tables at Applebee’s — full of charm, big smiles, and that friendly energy you don’t forget. After I served him, he looked me in the eyes and asked, “How much are you making here a day?”

I gave him a ballpark number based on my tips. He chuckled and said, “That’s it? I can take you somewhere where you’ll make more than you ever imagined.”

He handed me his number and told me to reach out — said to check out a place called Playa Largo in Key Largo, just minutes from where I lived. Honestly, I almost didn’t believe him. The numbers he was talking about? I had never seen or heard of anything like it. But something in my spirit told me to try.

I called Jimmy. He set up an interview. I got hired on the spot.

My first few paychecks were over $2,000 a week. I had never made money like that before — not even close. And in that moment, I knew: this was my ticket out. This wasn’t just a job. This was freedom money. I worked like my life depended on it — because, in a way, it did. I picked up every shift I could, doubles, different positions all over the resort. Anything to make money, cover bills, and start stashing away my escape fund.

But, of course, Cipher eventually caught on.

I don’t even remember how, but he got a hold of one of my paychecks. He was furious. “You’re hiding money from the family?” he barked. “What kind of crap is this? What are you planning?”

Thank God by then, I had already started rebuilding my relationship with my mother. She became my safe place, my anchor. I had been secretly sending her money to keep for me. So when Cipher demanded full access to my account, I gave it to him — and spun a lie that I was saving for our daughters’ future. It calmed him down for the moment, but I knew I had to move fast. That close call could’ve cost me everything.

Having my mom as an ally was heaven-sent. It’s the only way I managed to hide money from Cipher. But as he got smarter about my schedule and income, I had to take smaller and smaller portions from my checks — just enough to stay under the radar.

Meanwhile, something else was happening.

Working at the resort didn’t just give me money — it gave me life. I started discovering myself again. I made real friends, people who saw me, not Cipher’s version of me. I even brought some of my old coworkers from Applebee’s over to Playa Largo. They became family. My tribe. Lifelong friends.

And I discovered something else, too — my passion. Mixology. Cuisine. Applebee’s had just been a way to survive, but Largo? Largo awakened something real. I learned every part of food and beverage — hosting, busing, serving, bar-backing, bar-tending, inventory, prep chef, all of it. I soaked up every skill like a sponge.

But bar-tending? That was where I shined. Guests adored me. They came back just to see me, to drink my creations. My reviews were through the roof. I was one of the most requested bartenders on the property.

Eventually, I felt it was time for the next step — something more professional, more long-term. That’s when I met Travis, a food and beverage manager at another resort in the Keys. He practically begged me to apply for an Assistant Food and Beverage Manager position at his property.

At first, I doubted myself. Thought I wasn’t qualified. But after a few interviews and some real encouragement, I landed the job. And that’s when I met someone who would, once again, change my life.

Let’s call him James. Now sis, James was FINE. Think Idris Elba but younger. I’m talking tall, dark and handsome! I’m talking strong, kind, and very easy on the eyes!

The very first day I walked into my new role, I saw him. Handsome. Confident. There was just something about him. He caught my eye immediately. But I knew I couldn’t act on anything — I was technically his boss. So we kept it light. Smiles. Glances. Flirting from a distance.

Until one day… James asked if he could take me out.

Now STOP- I know exactly what you’re thinking!
“This b*tch cheated on Cipher!???” 

Go easy on me, girl — because back then, I was just trying to figure things out. I didn’t have it all together. I didn’t have a game plan. I was just a woman who hadn’t been seen or genuinely noticed in what felt like forever.

James looked at me like I mattered… like I was beautiful… like I was someone — I felt something I hadn’t felt in years. Adored. Desired. Respected. Alive.

So yeah, I said yes when he asked to take me out but just as friends.

Saying yes was the easy part. The hard part? Figuring out how to actually go out without Cipher breathing down my neck.

I had to think quick. There was no way I could tell the truth — that I had plans, that I had somewhere to be, that I was even considering a moment of joy without his permission. So I lied. I told him I had a work dinner with some coworkers. Said it was just a staff thing — something routine, nothing special.

My heart was pounding the entire time, but I was determined. I deserved one night. One breath of fresh air. One reminder that I was still human. That I was still me.

That night with James felt like a dream. Magical, even. He had two kids just like me, and he spoke about them with so much love and pride. He didn’t bash their mother — he uplifted her. That alone said a lot. He opened the car door for me. He asked me questions and listened when I answered. He was gentle… kind… safe. Looking back now, I think he could tell I was hurting. Men like him can sense that — the silent kind of pain. But in that moment, his presence was exactly what I needed.

Somewhere in the middle of dinner, I opened up — just a little. I shared that I had been going through a rough situation at home. I didn’t go into much detail, but enough for him to understand I was dealing with something heavy. He didn’t push, didn’t pry. Instead, he looked me in my eyes and said, “You don’t deserve that. Someone like him doesn’t deserve you.” Those words… they hit deep. No one had ever said that to me before.

And when the night ended, he embraced me— softly, slow, and electric. And then he said “You’re a beautiful, strong women. I’m here for you. Everything is going to be ok. You deserve a good life.” In my heart it felt like the fourth of July. Fireworks. I hadn’t felt that alive in years. I felt like a woman again. Like I wasn’t invisible. And right then, I knew: I couldn’t keep living the way I was living. I had to tell Cypher it was over.

No more games. No more abuse. No more pretending.

Fuck the master plan. Forget the organizing. He needed to go and he needed to go NOW.

I got home that night with my heart pounding, but not from fear — from freedom. And I let it all out.

When I stepped into the house, my eyes locked on them instantly — lilies, perfectly arranged in a vase on the living room table.

But no flower — no matter how beautiful — could silence the storm that was roaring inside me.

Those lilies weren’t just flowers. They were the first mourners to show up to the funeral of what I used to call a marriage.

It was at that moment, I knew.

A part of him already understood that the end was near. The flowers were his version of an apology. A peace offering. A delay tactic. But I couldn’t let myself soften. Not this time. I barely let my eyes rest on the flowers — afraid if I did, I’d start second-guessing everything I’d worked so hard to prepare for

From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of him — sitting on the balcony, blunt in hand, lost in thought. The smoke curled around him like a shield.

I stepped outside, heart pounding, voice steady.
“We need to talk,” I said.

He didn’t look at me at first. Just took a long drag and exhaled.
“About what?” he said flatly.

And that was my cue.

“About the fact that I’m done. That I’m done letting you drag me through the mud. You’re a disgusting pig, and I want you out of this house. I don’t want to be with you anymore. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever. You’ve taken advantage of me. You’ve lied to me. Cheated on me. You’ve abused me — mentally, physically, emotionally, sexually and spiritually. I’ve had enough. This is it. We are done.”

There was no yelling. No screaming. Just truth — spoken with a clarity I hadn’t felt in years.

And just like that, I watched the smoke stop rising.

He switched up immediately. First came the waterworks. He cried, trembled, begged — “Is there someone else? Who’s putting this battery in your back?” And when the tears didn’t work, the rage stepped in. Mr. Hyde.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he growled. “Call the cops if you want — my name is on the lease.”

But I wasn’t the same girl he once broke down. I had a plan.

“Fine,” I said calmly. “If you won’t leave, I will. Me and the girls. We’re moving out.”

It caught him off guard. He stared at me like I was a stranger.

And then the questioning started: “Who is it? Who are you seeing? Is it someone from your job?” I tried to ignore him. I refused to give him too much information. I locked myself in my room. He banged on the door, shouting. “Answer me!”

And finally, to end it all, I gave him what he wanted.
“You know what? Yeah. I’m seeing someone. It’s over.”

The silence that followed wasn’t peace — it was the calm before a storm.
He kicked down the door. His eyes were wild. “Say that shit again.”

I stayed silent.

“Did he f*** you?”  he screamed. I stood quietly. No answer.

Then he snapped. He grabbed me, threw me onto the bed, ripped my dress, and raped me — again.

As he assaulted me, he growled, “You wanna be a slut? I’ll show you a slut. You wanna give it away? Then you’re gonna give it to me too.”

When it was over, he got dressed, grabbed a bag, and left. That was the last I saw of him for almost a month.

I didn’t know where he went, and I didn’t care. I just knew something inside him cracked — and something inside me finally broke free.

James kept in touch. Kind as ever. Gentle with his words. We started spending more time together. It was actually…nice.

When I was with him, I was the center of his attention. He’d constantly take photos of me, always reminding me how beautiful I was. That brings me to this week’s blog photo — one taken on a sunny Miami day, during a walk we shared along the beach. It looked like I was happy, and I was. It felt like something real. But like so many things, the picture tells only part of the story.

My good friend and coworker Samantha started helping me with the girls. For a moment, things felt… almost normal. Like life was finally beginning. I started to hope again. Maybe I really was going to make it out.

But peace never lasts long when you’re trying to escape a monster.

Shortly after leaving Cipher started stalking me.

Following my car.

Showing up at my job. Samantha’s house — everywhere.

And then it went from bad to worse.

One day, he showed up at James’s house. Screaming. Violent. “That’s my wife! Come outside and fight like a man!”

I’ll never forget what happened next.
James looked me dead in the eyes and said, “I can’t have this kind of drama in my life. Get your stuff. You both need to go.”

I froze. “You have no idea what you’re doing,” I said. “You’re sending me back into hell.”
But he just turned away.

I grabbed my bag. Walked out. Cipher stood there, smug.
“This is the man you chose over me. Look at you stupid. I Told you he didn’t want you. No one does. You’re mine You’re my baby mother”. You’ll always be mine.”

I drove home in tears. Another man who wouldn’t protect me. Another man who didn’t see me.
He liked the idea of me — not the reality.

When I got back, I parked around the corner by the leasing office in a guest parking spot, I ran to my place, got inside, locked every door, and turned off all the lights.

Then — bang, bang, bang — Cipher was back. He knocked and knocked for almost 20 minutes.

He screamed “Open this f***ing door!” “I just wanna talk!”  “Indo, I need to talk to you.”

I stayed quiet. Frozen. Then I screamed through the door, “You need to leave. Enough of this shit! Or someone is calling the cops.”

It went quiet. Too quiet.

Then suddenly — BANG BANG BANG — this time, from the back patio door.
Glass shaking. His voice rising.

“You think you can ignore me?! Open the f***ing door!”

I backed away. My heart was racing. I didn’t know what he’d do next — and I couldn’t run forever.

I picked up my phone… but before I could call anyone. There was a knock at the front door. Another unexpected guest thanks to my concerned upstairs neighbors… the cops.

And just like that was when it all went from bad…to worse.

Chapter 11: The last chapter…