I made my way to her studio, stumbling a little. She was standing in front of a blank canvas, a brush in her hand. I went to her and wrapped my arms around her waist, kissing her neck roughly. I could feel my cock responding, pressing against Carlotta’s ass.

Carlotta shrugged away from me and spun to face me. She looked angry.

“What the hell are you doing, William? It’s barely eleven o’clock and you stink of whisky.”

“I just wanted to make love to my wife,” I slurred.

Carlotta looked at me in disgust.

“Just go sleep it off,” she spat.

I ignored her, fumbling open my trousers and pushing them down. Carlotta looked at my erection, but there was no lust on her face, only disgust. I felt my cock go down as she looked at me. Angry now, I dragged my trousers up and fastened them, trying to hide my floppy shame.

“You can’t even do that right,” she said, her eyes still on my crotch area.

“Oh, trust me, I can perform just fine when I’m not with you. But the sight of your ugly body is enough to turn anyone off,” I said, and then I turned around and walked away from her.

Chapter Twenty-One

Carlotta

When William stormed out of my studio after his failed attempt to fuck me, I felt nothing but disgust. I couldn’t believe that I had ever loved this man, ever craved him physically and mentally. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to go to the precinct and throw myself at Detective Del Rey’s mercy. I could tell him everything. I would get into trouble for covering this up, of that I had no doubt, but maybe it would be worth it.

Something was stopping me, though. For all that William disgusted me completely now, I had made a vow to honor and protect him. And while he meant less than nothing to me, my vows still meant something to me. I had taken those vows before God and I wasn’t ready to break them.

I sighed. I didn’t know what to do. None of the options were appealing and all of them had consequences. I was either risking being thrown in jail for lying to the police or risking eternal damnation if I broke my marriage vows. I knew one thing for sure. I wouldn’t be getting any painting done today. I just wasn’t in the mood to be creative now.

I walked away from the easel and put the paint brush down. I went through the kitchen and down the hallway and grabbed my coat and my purse. I was going to go for a walk to try to clear my head a little.

I had been walking for about half an hour, just walking blindly with no real destination in mind. My head was no clearer. I still couldn’t decide what to do for the best. Up ahead, I noticed a church and I instantly knew what to do. I would go to confession. Maybe the priest would be able to advise me on the best course of action for me. And if he couldn’t, at least by confessing, I was getting a weight off my mind, and more importantly, a weight off my soul.

I made my way toward the church. It was funny because if anyone asked, I always said I wasn’t religious. As far as I could remember, I hadn't set foot in a church in five years. But when the going got tough, my faith always resumed itself, and it had always gotten me through the tough times.

I stepped into the church. The air inside was cool, the quietness of the building calming. Churches always had a calming effect on me, like once I was across the threshold, I left all of my problems behind and nothing could hurt me anymore.

I realized as I headed toward the confessional booth that if I confessed everything, I would be here all day. The not attending church regularly, the fact that I hated my husband, and the thoughts I had been having recently. I could deal with those myself. I told myself I would start saying the rosary again. Today, I would only be focusing on my dilemma. And I wouldn’t be using the word murder. Even the sanctity of the confessional could be broken if I told the priest everything.

I stepped into the confessional booth and made the sign of the cross and then I sat down on the hard and uncomfortable stool. I waited for a moment and the curtain drew back.

“Forgive me, Father, for I think I may have sinned,” I said.

“You may have sinned, child?” the priest said.

“Yes, Father. I ... I don’t know what to do. I need your guidance,” I said.

“Tell me what is bothering you, my child,” he said.

I took a deep breath while I got my thoughts in order. I looked down into my lap, watching my fingers fidget with each other.

“My husband did something bad, Father. Something that broke the law. He doesn’t remember doing it, and I lied to the police and said I didn’t remember either. I know it’s a sin to bear false witness, but I also know it’s a sin to break your marriage vows, and I vowed to honor and protect my husband. I don’t know what to do, Father. I feel like I need to tell the police the truth, but I’m afraid to do it. I’m afraid that God will find me lacking. I think maybe He’s testing me, and I don’t know how to pass the test, Father. Do I lie and protect my marriage vows, or do I tell the truth and break the vows?”

It all poured out of me in a stream of babble that left me a little breathless when I was done. I waited, hoping that the priest would be able to decipher what I had told him and advise me.

“I see your predicament, my child,” the priest said after a moment’s pause. “Your marriage vows are important, and of course, loyalty to one’s spouse is important for a happy marriage. But lying is indeed a sin. Perhaps you should look at this in a different way.”

I nodded my head, desperate for the answer. If there was a different way to look at this, I would be only too happy to take it.

“Perhaps you should consider that by telling the police the truth, you are not so much breaking your marriage vows as you are giving your husband the chance to make his own confession and be absolved of his sin. Sometimes, people must face the consequences of their actions in order to truly repent of them and in turn, to become more enlightened.”