Page 28 of Crashing Without Justice

Harding~

Iwalked into the hotel room, a bag of groceries in my arm, room service becoming too fucking expensive. While I hadn’t gone back to the house, I’d been checking my bank accounts every fucking day, and so far, Paige hadn’t cleaned them out, which meant that she was still thinking about reconciling, or else she didn’t want such a heartless move to come back and bite her in the ass at court.

At any rate, eating out or ordering room service was really putting a dent in my emergency fund, so I’d decided to pick up some groceries after work today, the hotel suite having a decent-sized refrigerator that came with the room. The hotel also had a laundry room that I was going to need to utilize soon. In a perfect world, I’d go live with my parents or brother, but we didn’t live in a perfect world, and I did not want to give Paige any reason to have to visit their homes. With the way that she was behaving, a hotel was the safest place to be for everyone.

I quickly put away my little bit of groceries, and then I immediately gathered my stuff to take a shower. Hot showers were becoming my therapy at the end of each day, and while I had promised Trista that I would stop by later, I honestly didn’t know if I had the energy. I was still waiting for the police to speak with Paige, and the wait was making me antsy and irritable. Everything was annoying the hell out of me, and I wondered if this was what it felt like when women were on their periods, and if it was, then God bless them.

As I grabbed a new razor from the packet, my old phone rang, and my stomach immediately tensed up. I really just wanted a hot shower before watching some hockey or college football, having no desire to talk to anyone about anything.

Nevertheless, I set my razor down, then grabbed my phone from the nightstand, and when I saw Pastor Truby’s name flashing across the screen, I wanted to throw the damn thing across the room. There’d be only one reason why he’d be calling me, and it was getting harder and harder not to want to wring Paige’s neck.

“Pastor Truby,” I greeted when I finally answered the phone.

“Harding,” he greeted back, his voice sounding as if he was getting ready for a sermon. He had a calming voice, and lots of church members confided in him because of it. “I hope that I am not bothering you on this fine Thursday evening.”

“Not at all, Pastor,” I lied. “What can I help you with?”

“Well, Paige called me earlier, informing me that you two are having marital concerns,” he said, not surprising me one fucking bit. “She said that you would like to set up an appointment for some spiritual counseling.”

It took everything in me not to let out a string of curses that would ban me from the church. “Pastor Truby, that’s not exactly accurate,” I told him, trying so hard not to take my anger out on him.

“Oh, no need to feel embarrassed, Harding,” he replied smoothly. “There is no judgement here.”

“Embarrassed?” I echoed, my mind praying that this wasn’t what I thought it was.

“Paige confided in me that your troubles were of the bedroom variety, and how you’ve sought solace in the arms of another woman because of your lack of performance in the marital bed.”

What. In. The. Fuck?

“She explained how very remorseful you are, and that the other woman was merely nothing but a way to validate your manhood after having so many struggles in that area recently,” he went on, and I could feel anger doing dangerous things to me. “Honestly, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, Harding. All men come across that bridge as we get older.”

I had to count to ten as my anger threatened to get the better of me. “Pastor Truby, that’s not what’s going on at all-”

“Paige also warned me that you might deflect and make other claims,” he said, and the pity in his voice was really pissing me off. “I understand what a delicate subject this is, but do not let it ruin your marriage, son. Your wife loves you, and she expressed nothing but forgiveness when we discussed how you stepped outside your marriage. Paige assured me that she was willing to do whatever was needed to put your marriage back on the right track. She even suggested you attend our monthly weekend retreat for the male members of our church.”

I couldn’t believe how livid I felt, and it wasn’t because she had called our pastor to tell him that I sucked in bed. I was livid because she had dared to drag a man of the church into our mess with nothing but lies and mal-intent, and who in the fuck did something like that?

“Pastor Truby, mine and Paige’s marital issues stem from more than just our lack of intimacy,” I said through clenched teeth. “We’ve been distant for a while now.”

“Yes, yes,” he replied evenly. “She mentioned as much, but she still believes that your faith in God and your faith in each other can lead you back to where you were when you’d said your vows to one another.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him everything that she’d been up to this past week, but that would just be dragging someone else down Paige’s twisted path of revenge. Plus, I doubted that Pastor Truby would even believe me. Paige did a great job of hiding who she really was to the world, and if you asked anyone at our church, they’d tell you what an incredible, giving, and wonderful Christian she was, including Pastor Truby.

“Pastor, while I appreciate your willingness to help us, Paige and I are beyond that point,” I informed him, resenting this conversation with every word spoken. “We’ve crossed lines that cannot be uncrossed, and I think it’s best that we part ways.”

“Oh, Harding,” he sighed compassionately. “Do not say that just yet. There is always hope when forgiveness is still in the picture, and Paige is more than willing to move past your indiscretion.”

Needing to end this conversation and look to find a new church, I said, “Pastor, is it possible for us to speak about this another time? My mother is calling, and she only calls when something is important.”

“Of course, of course,” he quickly agreed. “I understand now why I didn’t see you or Paige in church this past Sunday, but I hope to see you there this coming weekend.”

That was a quiet reprimand if I’d ever heard one. “Of course, Pastor.”

“I’ll even set aside some time afterwards, so that we can talk,” he went on, and I was definitely going to have to find a new church.

“Sounds good, Pastor Truby,” I lied.

“Okay, Harding. See you then.”

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