TERRY LANDED A JOB WITH NBC ON THE SHOW American Gladiators, which was shot in Los Angeles—the one place I thought he didn’t want to be. I think Terry thought this would take him to a higher level financially and that’s one of the reasons he wanted me to sign a midnuptial agreement. He was already preparing to split assets and discontinue sharing any future income. Huh! What a kick in the teeth! I remember helping him talk to producers and discuss creative issues on the show.
It was clear that my husband was already moving on with his life, even though he knew I was hopeful that we could get past these hurdles and try to keep our marriage together.
Despite all of the drama, I thought at least we’d be a family together on Thanksgiving. I pressed him to find out if he would be around for the holiday. However, his meetings, work, filming, and other business always took precedence over seeing his family. After all, we moved to L.A. without Terry. Now it was November. I guess I was just plain stupid for not seeing it for what it was. I was hopeful and trying to give him his space if that was what he needed, but enough was enough.
He told me that he was going to spend the holiday with his mother back in Florida since she was getting old. Well, in the end, he didn’t even see his mom on Thanksgiving. Instead, he spent it with his buddy, and who knows who else. To his friends, it was poor Terry, all alone on the holiday, but they didn’t know the real story. It was his choice not to be with his family on Thanksgiving.
Terry never warmed up to my family. He never realized that they were always his biggest cheerleaders, a true support system through thick and thin. They stuck by him after his affair with Kate Kennedy. They always tried to make him feel loved. But I believe underneath it all Terry felt threatened by such closeness, even from afar. He always thought they were “after his money”! It was a system of love and support from family—my family—and he was not used to that. Terry never realized how lucky he was to have my family in his life. In fact, they always tried to get me to see his side.
Things began to unravel further in my mind as I began to put the pieces together. Terry’s choice not to be with us on Thanksgiving after all we had endured with the accident, at a time when we needed to be thankful and come together; his minimal involvement with me or the kids; threatening Brooke that if he wasn’t part of her new TV show there would be no show; the fact that he owned two phones; the money in the safe; never giving me eye contact; canceling my credit cards; his sleeping apart from me both physically and sexually; constant bickering and picking fights; nasty phone calls; the mysterious blonde on the back of his Jet Ski; all the signs in Miami and his secrecy—just everything. And to think I still didn’t really know about Christiane.
I was tired of the excuses. I was emotionally drained. I had hit my limit, and it was time for me to move on with my own life. I found a divorce lawyer on the Internet. I knew that I eventually had to get a different lawyer. I would need a pretty powerful attorney to go up against Hulk Hogan and his deceptive ways. However, at the time, I just needed to file the papers because I knew that it was over.
I talked to a lawyer in Clearwater. He was good enough for now. I gave him a brief description of what I was going through, filled out the paperwork, and thankfully still had a few bucks in one of my accounts to pay him the $500 retainer he asked for. He asked me where Terry would be in order to have the process server deliver the papers to him. So many thoughts ran through my head. Am I really doing this? Oh my God, what’s going to happen when he gets these? Will he be sorry? Will he be angry or sad? But at that point, I knew that none of that could be the case. He was just too cold and calculating to really have any remorse or regret. I went ahead and gave the lawyer the address and location of the sound stage he was working on. I had no clue where he was staying, so it had to be at his place of business, during business hours. The papers were delivered to him at Sony Studios in Culver City, California, at one P.M. on November 20, 2007. I felt like I had a thousand pounds off my chest by just filing the papers. I didn’t know how I was going to get through the divorce . . . I just knew I had to do it.
I didn’t tell Brooke or Nick that I was actually filing for divorce. I needed to keep some things to myself at that point. Nick asked to go to the set the same day to visit Terry.
“Are you sure?” I asked him, trying to dissuade him from being in the path of fury.
“Yeah, Dad’s doing a bunch of stunts today and I want to go see him,” Nick responded.
Reluctantly, I dropped Nick off at the set that morning. Not too long after, I got a phone call from Nick. “Mom, did you file for divorce from Dad?” he asked.
My heart pounded with anxiety. “Yes, Nick. I had to.”
“Oh my God, Mom. I can’t believe it. Dad was shocked!” I knew Nick understood. He saw that I was miserable, sad, crying, and upset most of the time.
Why was Terry so shocked? How much more did he think I was going to take?
I ended up going back to Clearwater a week or so before Christmas 2007. My lease was up on my Los Angeles home, and I needed to get back to the house in Florida since the divorce was filed there. I had to charter a jet to fly across the country with the kids, dogs, and birds in tow. Once again, I went back to Florida.
Things were a bit different this time because Terry would end up moving out. When he found out that I was going to come back to our Willadel home, he opted not to live with me, and after Christmas, he decided to stay at the beach house. He packed some of his stuff and split. Now that I look back, I’m sure it was because he had already been dating his new girlfriend, Jennifer. He stayed with the family for a few days before moving out but slept in another room.
A few days before Christmas, I set up a tree and raced around to try to get some shopping done. The kids had been through so much over the year that I just wanted to make the holidays as nice for them as I could. They needed something happy in their lives.
On the day before Christmas, I was going to do a quick trip to Target. When I was leaving the house, I saw my sixteen-year-old dog Foxy sitting in the driveway lying in the sunshine. I couldn’t take her to Target with me, so I placed her on the grass and let her sit in the sun, which she loved. Twenty minutes later, the caretaker at my house called me and told me that the carpet-cleaning van accidentally ran over Foxy and killed her. I ran out of Target hysterical, screaming in horror! I wanted to die! She was like my child!
I didn’t even care if we had Christmas at that point, I was so devastated.
My mother tried to convince me to make a nice dinner, decorate the house for Christmas, and try to keep our family together. She felt that I should throw in the towel on divorce proceedings if Terry could give it one more chance for the kids’ sake. For us, for twenty-four years! Because I was feeling so vulnerable, I thought maybe my mom was right and that maybe this was a good time to try to repair what was left.
On Christmas Eve, I spent most of the night alone in the basement, wrapping presents for the kids. I didn’t want them to see the gifts before they got wrapped. I guess Terry was upstairs watching TV.
I was so tired from moving out of the California rental house, unpacking, Christmas shopping, crying every half hour over the realization that my dog was not with us, feeling like it was my fault for being in a hurry and leaving her outside, and the fact that my life was falling apart. I was trying to put on a happy face for Terry and the kids, but it was the hardest thing ever. I think at times, I was the most emotional one out of the bunch. The kids watched TV like it was old times. Terry was quiet and unemotional. I guess he was just trying to keep the peace until he could escape.
After the kids went to bed, I asked Terry to help me place the gifts under the tree. We were alone and I wanted things to just go back to the way they once were. I wished it was all a bad dream, but seeing Terry so distant I realized we might not be able to pull up the nose on this thing.
Still, I wanted to try. Once last time, I asked him if we could talk before we went to bed. We went into my bathroom—a place where we would usually go to talk. It was quiet, big, and comfortable. I asked Terry to try and make our marriage work. I apologized for everything that I had done and said. I told him that I didn’t know why it was all happening, but said that I still loved him. I asked him to “please, put his ring on and stay home.”
“No, I’m not ready,” Terry responded. “I need more time.”
Why? Don’t you love me? I thought.
“You really need to think about it?” I asked. “I’m your wife. We’re your family and we’re in crisis right now.” But I left it at that, it was Christmas Eve. He went upstairs to the extra bedroom and closed the door.
The next morning, we celebrated Christmas. Terry sat on the couch like a stiff with fake smiles and laughter. After we opened all the presents, Terry said he was tired and went upstairs to lie down. I followed him upstairs.
“Can we please just try to work it out?” I asked. “Will you please put your ring on and just come home? I’m willing to throw in the towel. Let’s try to be together. Let’s make this work and start over for our kids’ sake. Please? I still love you and I want to try. I’m sorry. Please?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I need more time.” That, along with his coldness, said it all.
At that moment I decided to take his “I don’t know” as “no.” To me, when you say that you need more time, you’re not serious.
Terry being there for Christmas, going through the motions, was a joke! “You don’t want to be together,” I said. “You don’t want to make this work! You have no intention to make this work, and you haven’t for a long time! I’m sick of all of this!”
“You win! You win! You fucking win!” he yelled. “You filed for divorce. You win!”
At that moment, he got up and went into his bathroom. He was talking to someone very quietly on the phone. I walked in and surprised him because I wasn’t in the habit of following him in there. I was pissed! Now, I didn’t care either!
“Who’s that on the phone?” I asked. “Is that your girlfriend? Do you have a girlfriend?” (I knew he did.)
“It’s none of your goddamn business,” he shot back. “What I do is none of your business anymore. You filed for divorce and can do whatever you want. And so can I.”
He immediately began packing up his things and abruptly left for the beach house. He called me when he got there and told me that he didn’t want to argue anymore. He said that he left because he was afraid I might hit him and throw things at him because I had done it before. I had never done that before. In fact, he was the one who did that to me! What was wrong with him?
My attorney told me that it looked like he was setting up a false history. Terry was just trying to provoke me to hit him, so I would get arrested. I realized that he was being closely guided by his attorneys, and everything was a strategic move.
On December 26, 2007, I was alone in my bathroom and I just started writing. As the new year approached, I needed to write how I felt after everything that happened.
I like my face with wrinkles and glasses. I think I still look pretty and I haven’t changed for the worse with age yet. I like my light blond hair and my body. It’s starting to trim down with no exercise. It must be the stress! I love my house and the property it’s on. But that doesn’t mean it’s my home or my sanctuary anymore. If anything, my bathroom seems like it’s my only place of refuge—just to light a candle, turn on some music, or read my books. To think or be with my dogs. To dream about the future and just think about the past. It’s only a sanctuary when Terry is not here, because when he’s around my aura is invaded. His presence is disturbing and it sidetracks me from just really relaxing. I know I can make a new home that’s mine and the kids. If everything I had bottled up could just get out it would be so unbelievable what I could do. My mind has no boundaries, only my body. I am physically present, but not emotionally. I feel like a captive being held hostage with no reason why other than I continued to stay. Why did I stay? Kids? His image? The TV show? I am scared of being hurt. I feel like if the boat hadn’t taken on so much water we might have been able to weather this. I just think about the kids and how much they need us both. Way down the road, what are we going to do for holidays, weddings, grandchildren and not growing old together anymore? But he doesn’t look to the future of us or our family. I want to share my life and my kids’ lives with family and friends. We’re lonely. We’re trapped. We all have to “do as we’re supposed to do.” But really we are just living in a communal and controlled environment. We are all just pawns in his game of life. I think he’s got the sleeper hold on us from moving on or doing what we want even if it’s for the benefit of all of us, until he has something going for himself. It would look pretty bad if his son and daughter got something going before him. Or, even maybe me. Oh, but the scale is not tipped in his favor, for sure. And now the accident. Now, it’s really not tipped in his favor. But when you’re a selfish person you just can’t see it. He’s too competitive for me. It’s just constant tit for tat and counting. Keeping score. Holding people back from the dreams that they have and the things that they love. How long can you mask selfishness? All the dirty tricks in the book come out. Shortcuts. Cheating. Lying. Stealing. I have seen it all. I am very aware now. I know him so well that he’s very transparent to me and he hates me for it. In his desperate attempt to maintain his position, he’s gone even lower. Saying he knows people in the Hells Angels and if I ever left him he’d kill me. Or, he’s going to kill himself. Please, he’s way too selfish to do that. Then again, look at the track record of all the other past wrestlers. Old, sick, broke, OD’d, dead, divorced—name one that had their shit together. Terry was it. He was lucky that I stuck with him in the first place. Behind every successful man there’s a woman. That’s alright, I’m okay not taking any credit. I’m just used to it. Lately, he hasn’t trusted me making decisions for anything. I’ve been keeping things glued together for twenty-three years and now suddenly I can’t do anything. I can’t even make the decisions about my own damn life anymore. My mistake, though. I tolerated it for too long. The cheating, infidelities, the lies. If you weigh it, it was so lopsided for so long. But I stayed, big mistake. I became his new doormat. Because I didn’t want my life turned upside-down, or the kids’ lives. Maybe the money was good. Our home was done being built. There was always an excuse. And he was always dangling the carrot. He only treated me great and let me do whatever I wanted as long as it fit into his little plan. I thought this would never happen to us. I tried to be the perfect wife. And I was. But he was just gluttonous. From then on it has slowly been crumbling. Now there is nothing left but crumbs on the floor. The memories, tears, sadness. It’s so sad for me. For him, he’s probably just angry and not sad one bit. But the formula is the same—I’m sure that it’s something that I have done or said. I’m waking up to the fact that I am just no longer happy being a trophy wife for him. The bling. The accessory. The wind beneath his wings. The journey is over. He has no empathy or remorse. I meet his needs, but he doesn’t meet mine. Problems are never resolved. It’s just over and I’m ready to move on. I’m not crying over him anymore! I shouldn’t be sad because it’s his loss. It gives me everything to gain. I see the situation clearly now. He broke the deal. I guess he thought I would never find out or pay attention to the obvious signs of his extramarital affairs. He lost out. Not me.
Starting Over
With Christmas over, moving back into the home on Willadel Drive again, getting all of the dogs settled, still missing Foxy, and realizing that my filing for divorce was a definite go-ahead, I had a lot on my mind for the new year ahead. Most people decide on one or two things that they’d like to see changed. I had a whole laundry list! I had stuff I had to do . . . wanted to do! Things to fix, change, replace, people to call—you name it. I had to start my life over.
The new year unfolded with the Monday after the Christmas holiday, which was the first business day between Christmas and New Year’s. I needed to go talk to someone at Morgan Stanley and discuss what was going to happen to our nest egg and how to set myself up financially. I got up early, and went in to meet the new man in charge of the accounts, Travis. As we started talking, he asked me to write down the account numbers so he could quickly research them. We had so many I really had no clue. But we did have an accounting firm that handled everything for the family and our businesses. I had never met Travis before, and I’m sure he had no idea of what was going on between Terry and me, but word of my divorce was broadcast all over the news, from CNN to TMZ. Terry even went on the radio to feign shock over my filing for divorce—of course, he conveniently failed to mention his affairs, deceit, and attempt for me to sign a “midnuptial” he had hidden in documents allegedly drafted to “help” our family.
I think Travis might have been scared, not knowing how to handle my request, but I wanted to see all of the account balances and past deposits because I had the feeling that Terry may not have been depositing recent checks. I didn’t know the fifteen account numbers off the top of my head . . . like who would? So I called our accounting firm, relying on the fact that they had all of them stored in their files. When I asked for the account numbers, they noticeably balked and claimed they were in a filing cabinet in a locked office. Red flag! The representative then asked me if I could call her back in fifteen minutes for the info. Instead, fifteen minutes later Travis walked in the waiting room and told me that he got a call from the accounting firm and they told him that Terry and his “lawyers” had me taken off as cotrustee on all of our accounts, all but the one in my name!
“What?” I said in a shocked voice. I didn’t exactly know what that meant, but I had the feeling that the accounting firm was withholding information that was rightfully mine at the time. We were still married. We were still paying the firm. And they were taking sides with my husband, knocking me out of the loop! Travis explained that the accounting firm had a document that Terry and his “lawyers” prepared back in October. October! I thought. That meant that one whole month before I even filed, he removed me as a cotrustee!
My head swam. I was angry. I’d been duped. He got to the accounts before I did, not only removing me as cotrustee but transferring funds and assets into companies and partnerships that only Terry controlled. I had been taken off as cotrustee, and people whom I knew I didn’t trust now had control of our life savings.
It fucking pissed me off to say the least, and I thought back to the conversation we had at Christmas where he claimed that he needed more time. More like ran out of time! There was no way he could have turned back at that point. He had already drawn his line in the sand. It made me rethink everything he said or did as far back as I could remember. How low would he stoop for the almighty dollar? I realized that if he had signed that document in October, then that’s what he was arranging on the phone in the hallway in the hospital all day. And there I was sitting in the hospital room thinking that we were there as a unified front supporting John and his family. He must have been planning on leaving me before the accident, but now he would have to approach it differently. I started realizing that maybe he wanted to leave me first. He must have already had his next “life” lined up and was ready to make the break. I just made it easy for him . . . and harder for myself. I get it. That’s why I got sent a midnuptial agreement in October—oh my God, my head was reeling. The audacity of him! What about the kids? Did he even think about what they might think of him doing that—transferring millions of dollars into sleazy hands?
I knew then that the new year was going to be hell! If Terry was this calculating . . . well, my thoughts about how he’d treated me in Miami, the midnup, and his keeping the details of the accident from me put me in a ferocious rage like I’ve never been in before! I shook Travis’s hand and told him I’d call him soon. Then I jumped into my Escalade and headed back home, trembling. Once in my car, I called the accounting firm again. Ironically, the representative I had tried to talk to wasn’t available. My heart pounded and my head raced. I felt anger and confusion as I thought about how Terry had premeditated all of this. I pulled in the driveway, and the firm’s representative called back. I told them how obvious it was that they had taken my husband’s side, and I hung up on them. I was the outlaw and Terry was Hulk Hogan, “the icon” on television every week. It was sickening. I called my lawyer, and then I called my mom. I had no idea what to do.
When I got out of the car, sweet Nick was in the garage playing with a remote control toy he got for Christmas. Brooke was already back in Miami preparing for her new show, Brooke Knows Best. My lawyer told me not to freak out and he was on it. He said to just take care of my kids. I felt some relief throwing this in his lap now.
Ultimately, my first priority was Nick and John. Terry’s lawyers were working with Nick concerning his liability with the accident. I wanted to talk about it with Terry so badly. I felt like this was all Terry’s fault, but I couldn’t ask anything.
Poor John. I felt so bad for him and his condition. All we could do was offer moral support to him and his family, going to the hospital every day and praying that he would come out of his coma. It was so scary, and seeing his family go through it was even worse. Our hearts went out to them. We needed a miracle!
Prior to the accident, I knew John well, but not his family. Basically, his mom was homeless, sleeping on a cot at the hospital. I immediately stepped in, and Terry and I leased an apartment for her and her younger son, Michael. I paid a year’s rent in advance, provided furniture, and helped her get her things out of storage. I called all of my friends to help her move in, so she could at least have a place of refuge during all of this turmoil. We took food to the hospital for the family and continued to do anything possible to help. She was ever so grateful and appreciative!
A Not So Secret Admirer
Brooke’s new show was beginning to tape in Miami. She needed me to pop up in the intro to the show as “Mom.” In February 2008, I went down to Miami. I tried my best to keep things positive. I even brought my friend Paige down to Miami from Clearwater to help “set decorate” Brooke’s new condo, something I always did with our show. Even though I wasn’t going to be used on Brooke’s new reality show, I didn’t care. I would do anything to help her!
Paige and I went to Target and Walmart, looking for cute stuff to make the furnished condo that VH1 had leased look a tad bit more girly. We came back with throw pillows, candles, dishes, and rugs—all that fun stuff girls love! As we unpacked the stuff in Brooke’s living room, the music that she recently recorded played on the stereo. Brooke’s longtime friend Ashley, who was her roommate on the show, was there, too.
Brooke’s phone rang and she told us that Christiane was coming over to help. Awesome, I thought. Even though I had had suspicious feelings about Christiane in the past, I’d dispelled them since she and Brooke were such good friends; I thought for sure Brooke would have had a bad vibe too if Terry and Christiane had been involved. Remember, I thought that Terry may have been interested in her, but Brooke put my mind at ease and told me, “No, Christiane’s not that type! She’s fine. Don’t worry, Mom.” We told her to stop and pick up some wine, that we were in decorating mode.
Christiane told Brooke that she didn’t have a date on Valentine’s Day, so she needed to hang out with the girls. I hadn’t even remembered that it was Valentine’s Day, and I don’t think Brooke, Ashley, or Paige did, either. When Christiane showed up, she had a single long stem red rose for Brooke and a couple bottles of wine. The music played, the girls laughed, and we decorated. It was a good time.
Christiane hung out, but she hardly spoke to me and wasn’t very friendly. I guess it was foreshadowing for what was to come.
The next day, I packed my things, hugged my Brookie, and wished her all the luck with the new show. She looked and felt beautiful for the first time since all of the traveling on her music tour and moving to Miami. I was so happy to see her glow! For a minute, she said she wished I could stay, but that her father was on his way down to film the first episode and was bringing his new girlfriend. I joked a bit, saying, “Oooh, Dad’s still with the same girl. Could be your stepmom!”
Brooke was nervous telling me, but she wanted to be honest. I had no idea he was dating anyone that seriously yet. I mean, when did he have time for a love life with all of the other stuff going on? It kind of pissed me off that he was shoving his new girlfriend in Brooke’s face so fast, especially right when she was trying to focus on her own show. It’s a lot of pressure. And now this?
Brooke let me know that she didn’t like the snarky comment. I apologized, kissed her good-bye, and wished her good luck. Her dad and the new girlfriend showed up later that day after Paige and I drove home to Clearwater. I guess they had dinner that night and were all preparing to film the first episode the next morning.
Well, as Brooke explained it to me, after dinner Terry and Jennifer went to their hotel and Brooke met up with her on-again, off-again boyfriend Stack$ (the music label’s owner’s son). He mentioned to Brooke how strange it was to see her dad with a different woman other than her mom and joked about how he was used to seeing Christiane on his arm. Brooke demanded an explanation from him. He told her that he thought she knew because everybody from the record label knew about Terry and Christiane being together the whole last year that we had all lived in Miami.
At four thirty in the morning Brooke called me, hysterically crying. “Mom, you’re not going to believe this! Are you sitting down?”
“What’s the matter, Brooke?” I asked, worried.
“Dad had been sleeping with Christiane the entire time our family was in Miami.”
“What? How do you know?”
Brooke told me what her friend told her and how Terry broke up with Christiane before he started dating his new girlfriend.
“They broke up? How were they even dating?” I asked. “He’s married! To me!”
That night, Brooke insisted that Christiane meet with her at a friend’s house to discuss this affair. Christiane drove over in the middle of the night and handed Brooke a letter. It explained how she had deep feelings for Terry, how this love affair couldn’t die, how she never wanted to hurt us, and so on. Brooke was devastated that her good friend could not only hurt and betray her but do the same to her family as well.
Looking back, I guess that’s why Christiane didn’t have a date on Valentine’s Day. Come to think of it, that’s probably why she didn’t have a date when we all went to the Forge on New Year’s Eve. I guess the suspicions I had were dead-on!
I HAD ALWAYS SENSED THAT THERE WAS AN AFFAIR GOING ON IN Miami, but I had no proof. I made my decision to divorce Terry based on the type of person he had become and how he was treating the kids and me. Finding out about Christiane was the cherry on top of the sundae. I believe if I hadn’t summoned the courage to divorce Terry, and if I stayed with him, history would have repeated itself again and he would have continued to cheat. When Brooke told me about Terry’s affair with Christiane, it felt good to hear Brooke say that my suspicions were right all along. She told me that she felt bad for me. Having Brooke understand my position gave me extra confirmation that I had made the right decision.