Pastor’s Second Wife- Part Four

Part Four

A Story by Ayodele Adeoye

Pastor Olumodeji just took advantage of me. I would have called it rape but I never resisted him. Was he here to discuss Stella’s case or did he come here to have his way with me? How did this happen? It was too sudden to believe. How could my senior pastor have carnal knowledge of me right on my bed? I couldn’t explain what just happened to me. I felt empty and guilty. I was lost in deep thoughts when he sneaked out of my apartment. When I realized he was not in the room, I wept bitterly. I had wanted to commit suicide but suicide was not as easy as many think. I hated myself and Pastor Olumodeji. Right there, I made up my mind I wouldn’t attend our church again. I wouldn’t resign my role as the choir leader and quit every relationship with members of the church. This is an abomination of the highest order. I had condemned many ladies who fell for pastors, yet here I was in the same net of illicit affair with my own pastor.

I couldn’t go for my planned retreat again because of what had happened between me and Pastor Olumodeji. I saw myself as a lamb on his altar. For a whole week I didn’t eat anything, neither did I go out. My colleagues in the office called me until my phone battery ran down. No one from my office knew my house, so none of them checked up on me. My choir members were trooping into my house thinking I was sick. I became tired of the visitation so I left my house and went to hide myself in Faith’s house. Faith lived with her parents but she had a room to herself and her parents knew me very well. I had passed the night twice in their house before.

The day I returned back to my house, I noticed that my house was very dusty due to the period I was away. I pulled off my clothes and put on bum shorts and a sleeveless top to enable me tidy up my room. As I stretched my hand to the back of my door to pick my broom, I heard a knock on my door.

“Who is that?” I queried, but before I could get to the door, he entered my room.

Guess who? Pastor Olumodeji again.

“What are you doing here again Deji?” I wasn’t afraid to call him by his name because he had traded his respect for a round of sex. Deji is 15 years older than me and we call him daddy, but God forbid that I should call a man who sexually abused me daddy.

“I am sorry for what happened that day, it was the work of the devil,” he began to beg.

“I have forgiven you. Please you have to leave now; I don’t want a repeat of what happened that day. Leave before you use your charm on me again.” I tried pushing him away while showing him the door but he was reluctant. I told myself it wouldn’t happen today like it happened the other day so I pushed him harder towards the door.

“I am still your pastor, Sister Mercy,” he reminded me in a gentle way. Immediately he said that, I remembered the sermon our G.O preached, during the workers’ conference two years ago, titled: ‘Touch Not My Anointed’, so I stopped pushing him.

“Sir you have to go! I don’t want you here anymore. Please go! Please go!! Please go!!!”

“I will go if only you can tell me where Stella is.” He gave me this condition, then leaned on my door, blocking it in the process.

“I don’t know her whereabouts. You have to believe me. If I knew her whereabouts, I would have revealed them to you so you would let me be.”

As he stood there, tears rolled down his cheeks. How can my pastor be crying in front of me? I felt very bad so I joined him in shedding tears. I wish I knew where Stella was, I would have told him. As he was trying to wipe away his tears, I felt pity for him. He tried to hide them but they dropped uncontrollably. I picked my handkerchief from my bag and stretched it towards him. Once he took the handkerchief, he held my hand.

“I am sorry for what happened that day,” he begged. I stopped being rude to him after I remembered the sermon of our G.O. He held me and stylishly moved his hands towards my shoulder, then to my armpit. Before I could struggle to detach myself from his grip, he had turned my back to the bed again.

(Story copied from another source)

To be continued in part five…