A PASTOR'S BETRAYAL
PART 4
The house was too quiet.
Grace sat at the edge of the bed, her fingers tracing the rim of her morning coffee cup, the steam long gone. Michael had left early again—another "business meeting." But this time, something felt different. Her stomach twisted in knots, and no matter how hard she tried to shake it off, the feeling clung to her like a shadow.
She picked up her phone, scrolling mindlessly until a message notification popped up.
It was from an unknown number.
Her breath hitched as she opened it.
"Your husband and his secretary look so cozy together at the Silver Spoon Café. Thought you should know."
Attached was a photo—Michael sitting across from his young, beautiful secretary, their heads close together as they smiled over documents.
Grace’s hands trembled.
She didn’t remember driving to Michael’s office.
All she knew was the burning in her chest, the way her pulse roared in her ears. She burst through the doors, ignoring the startled receptionist, and marched straight to his office.
And there they were—Michael and her—standing close, the secretary laughing at something he said.
Grace saw red.
"Grace? What are you—" Michael started, his eyes widening as she stormed in.
"Who is she?!" Grace screamed, pointing at the secretary.
The young woman stepped back, her face paling. "Mrs. Thompson, I—"
"Grace, calm down!" Michael moved between them, his hands raised. "This isn’t what you think!"
"Then what is it?!" Her voice cracked, raw with betrayal. "Another business meeting? Another late night? How long has this been going on?!"
Michael’s jaw tightened. "Nothing is going on! We were just going over contracts!"
Grace let out a bitter laugh. "Contracts? Is that what you call it now?"
She lunged forward, shoving him hard. Michael stumbled back, shock flashing across his face.
"Grace, stop!"
But she couldn’t. The rage, the hurt, the months of loneliness—it all erupted. She grabbed the nearest thing—a glass paperweight—and hurled it at the wall. It shattered, the sound like a gunshot in the tense silence.
The secretary screamed, scrambling out of the room.
Michael grabbed Grace’s wrists, his grip firm. "Grace, enough! You’re acting crazy!"
"*Crazy?!" She wrenched free, tears streaming down her face. "You’ve been lying to me! You’ve been cheating on me!"
"I haven’t!" Michael’s voice broke. "Grace, please—just listen to me!"
But she didn’t want to listen.
She couldn’t.
The ride home was a blur.
Michael followed her, pleading the entire way, but Grace barely heard him. All she could hear was Pastor Gideon’s voice in her head:
"If you stay, you will die."
When they got home, the children were there—their three beautiful babies, their faces filled with confusion and fear as they watched their parents scream at each other.
"Daddy? Mommy?" little Sarah whispered, her eyes wide with tears.
Grace’s heart shattered.
But she couldn’t stop.
She packed her bags that night.
Michael begged on his knees, his voice broken. "Grace, please… Don’t do this. I love you. We love you."
The children cried, clinging to her legs. "Mommy, don’t go!"
Grace closed her eyes, her hands shaking as she zipped up her suitcase.
Pastor Gideon’s words echoed louder.
"God wants you free."
She turned away, walking out the door without looking back.
When she arrived at the church, Pastor Gideon welcomed her with open arms.
"Sister Grace," he said, his voice dripping with false warmth. "You’ve done the right thing. God is pleased."
He patted her back, his smile wide. "This is your new beginning."
Grace nodded, but deep down, beneath the numbness, a voice whispered:
What have I done?
That night, alone in the small apartment the pastor had arranged for her, Grace sat on the edge of an unfamiliar bed, staring at her phone.
There were 17 missed calls from Michael.
32 messages from the kids.
And one voicemail—Sarah’s tiny, broken voice:
"Mommy… please come home."
Grace pressed a hand to her mouth, choking back a sob.
For the first time, she wondered—had she made the biggest mistake of her life?
TO BE CONTINUED...
A PASTOR'S BETRAYAL
PART 4
The house was too quiet.
Grace sat at the edge of the bed, her fingers tracing the rim of her morning coffee cup, the steam long gone. Michael had left early again—another "business meeting." But this time, something felt different. Her stomach twisted in knots, and no matter how hard she tried to shake it off, the feeling clung to her like a shadow.
She picked up her phone, scrolling mindlessly until a message notification popped up.
It was from an unknown number.
Her breath hitched as she opened it.
"Your husband and his secretary look so cozy together at the Silver Spoon Café. Thought you should know."
Attached was a photo—Michael sitting across from his young, beautiful secretary, their heads close together as they smiled over documents.
Grace’s hands trembled.
She didn’t remember driving to Michael’s office.
All she knew was the burning in her chest, the way her pulse roared in her ears. She burst through the doors, ignoring the startled receptionist, and marched straight to his office.
And there they were—Michael and her—standing close, the secretary laughing at something he said.
Grace saw red.
"Grace? What are you—" Michael started, his eyes widening as she stormed in.
"Who is she?!" Grace screamed, pointing at the secretary.
The young woman stepped back, her face paling. "Mrs. Thompson, I—"
"Grace, calm down!" Michael moved between them, his hands raised. "This isn’t what you think!"
"Then what is it?!" Her voice cracked, raw with betrayal. "Another business meeting? Another late night? How long has this been going on?!"
Michael’s jaw tightened. "Nothing is going on! We were just going over contracts!"
Grace let out a bitter laugh. "Contracts? Is that what you call it now?"
She lunged forward, shoving him hard. Michael stumbled back, shock flashing across his face.
"Grace, stop!"
But she couldn’t. The rage, the hurt, the months of loneliness—it all erupted. She grabbed the nearest thing—a glass paperweight—and hurled it at the wall. It shattered, the sound like a gunshot in the tense silence.
The secretary screamed, scrambling out of the room.
Michael grabbed Grace’s wrists, his grip firm. "Grace, enough! You’re acting crazy!"
"*Crazy?!" She wrenched free, tears streaming down her face. "You’ve been lying to me! You’ve been cheating on me!"
"I haven’t!" Michael’s voice broke. "Grace, please—just listen to me!"
But she didn’t want to listen.
She couldn’t.
The ride home was a blur.
Michael followed her, pleading the entire way, but Grace barely heard him. All she could hear was Pastor Gideon’s voice in her head:
"If you stay, you will die."
When they got home, the children were there—their three beautiful babies, their faces filled with confusion and fear as they watched their parents scream at each other.
"Daddy? Mommy?" little Sarah whispered, her eyes wide with tears.
Grace’s heart shattered.
But she couldn’t stop.
She packed her bags that night.
Michael begged on his knees, his voice broken. "Grace, please… Don’t do this. I love you. We love you."
The children cried, clinging to her legs. "Mommy, don’t go!"
Grace closed her eyes, her hands shaking as she zipped up her suitcase.
Pastor Gideon’s words echoed louder.
"God wants you free."
She turned away, walking out the door without looking back.
When she arrived at the church, Pastor Gideon welcomed her with open arms.
"Sister Grace," he said, his voice dripping with false warmth. "You’ve done the right thing. God is pleased."
He patted her back, his smile wide. "This is your new beginning."
Grace nodded, but deep down, beneath the numbness, a voice whispered:
What have I done?
That night, alone in the small apartment the pastor had arranged for her, Grace sat on the edge of an unfamiliar bed, staring at her phone.
There were 17 missed calls from Michael.
32 messages from the kids.
And one voicemail—Sarah’s tiny, broken voice:
"Mommy… please come home."
Grace pressed a hand to her mouth, choking back a sob.
For the first time, she wondered—had she made the biggest mistake of her life?
TO BE CONTINUED...
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