“That sort of language is what damned women use. Or am I wrong about you? Are you already past redemption?”
I blinked back the tears forming in my eyes, unsure how to respond. All I could do was trust my gut and hope for the best. Thankfully, I had ten years of being married to a sociopath to prepare for this. If there was one thing Victor taught me it was how to read people to give them what they wanted.
If this guy wanted me to be a woman worthy of redemption, that was what I’d give him.
“I’m not,” I replied. “I am worthy.”
He stared at me for several long moments. Much like Victor did.
“Prove it.”
“How?”
He released his hold on me and stepped back. “You must repent and pray the Lord shows you mercy.”
“Repent?” I asked nervously.
I didn’t exactly have much experience when it came to religion or God.
While Victor would drag me to services on occasion, our attendance was performative at best. Something he did to make people think he was an upstanding, righteous man when he was anything but.
“Yes.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “On your knees.”
“Right. Of course.”
I carefully lowered myself to my knees, the chain clanging as I did. I folded my hands together and closed my eyes, searching my brain for what to say. I was so out of my element, it was laughable, but I needed to try. Needed to survive just a little longer until Henry found me.
“Go ahead,” he encouraged. “Ask for forgiveness.”
Every muscle in my body trembled as I tried to recall all the times I attended church with Victor. Tried to remember what the pastor would say. How he would speak. But I typically zoned out whenever we were there. Instead, I spent the time praying to God for a way out of my marriage. For someone to realize the truth and help me.
“Do you not know how?”
I carefully lifted my eyes. “I don’t.”
His jaw briefly tensed, but he schooled his anger, something akin to compassion crossing his expression.
It unbalanced me. I’d had a glimpse of what he was capable of. But when he looked at me this way, a part of me would do anything to keep this side of him. To not disappoint him.
Which was exactly what he wanted.
“I will guide you,” he said gently, cupping my cheek so softly. “Jesus was a teacher. I will teach you.”
“Thank you.”
“Father.”
I bowed my head, linking my hands together and waiting for him to continue. Then he gripped my jaw, forcing my eyes back to his, the kindhearted man he was seconds ago gone once more.
“Wha—”
“Thank you, Father,” he hissed. “That is how you will refer to me.”
“Th-thank you, Father.”
I swallowed hard, the emotional whiplash almost more than I could handle.
But Victor did the same to me. I survived ten years married to him.
