Chapter 17: The Breaking Point

The church was filled to the brim that Sunday morning, the sound of drums and tambourines shaking the air with joy. Worship rose like smoke from an altar, and people danced in the aisles, hands lifted high.

Susan sat quietly at the back, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. She had barely heard the sermon, every minute that passed brought her closer to the moment she dreaded and desired in equal measure.

At the front, Richard stood on the altar, delivering his message on “Grace That Redeems.” His words flowed smoothly, but inside, his spirit was restless. Something felt off. His eyes moved from row to row, scanning the crowd until_there. He saw her.

Susan.

Dressed simply, no makeup, her hair neatly tied back. She looked… different. His breath caught for a moment. He wanted to go to her, but he couldn’t, not now, not in the middle of service. He prayed silently, “Lord, please, don’t let her do this here.”

A few seats away, Charles sat among the congregation, half-listening, half-scrolling through his phone, until his eyes lifted and froze. Susan?

He blinked, thinking he was imagining things. But no, it was her. What’s she doing here? he thought, straightening up in his seat, curiosity prickling at him.

The moment the service ended and people began to stretch and gather their belongings, Susan stood abruptly. Her hands trembled, but her resolve was firm. She walked into the center aisle, her voice rising above the chatter.

“Please! Everyone, listen to me!”

The noise died instantly. Heads turned. Ushers froze.

Richard’s heart stopped.

“I have something to say!” she shouted, tears welling up in her eyes. “I lied! Pastor Richard didn’t do anything wrong. It was me! I’m the one who caused everything. I tricked him, I—”

Before she could finish, Charles was already on his feet, rushing toward her. “Susan, stop it,” he whispered harshly, grabbing her arm. “What are you doing? You can’t do this here!”

But Susan pulled back, her voice cracking with emotion. “No! I have to! I can’t live with this guilt anymore. I hurt an innocent man!”

By now, the entire church was buzzing. Murmurs rose like waves. The elders and deacons were on their feet. Richard tried to step down from the altar, but two leaders stopped him.

“Pastor, please,” one said firmly. “Let us handle this. You shouldn’t get involved right now.”

“Let me talk to her,” Richard pleaded, his voice urgent. “Please, she’s not well—”

But they wouldn’t let him pass.

Meanwhile, Charles tightened his grip on Susan’s arm. “You’re making things worse,” he said under his breath. “If you really want to make peace, come with me. I’ll take you to Richard. You can talk privately.”

Susan hesitated, tears streaming down her face. The congregation was still whispering, eyes filled with judgment and curiosity.

“Please,” Charles pressed softly now, “don’t give them another reason for a rumor.”

Reluctantly, she nodded. He guided her out through a side exit, shielding her from the crowd’s stares.

At the altar, Richard could only watch as she disappeared through the door, his heart torn between duty and something deeper. He bowed his head quietly, whispering to himself, “Lord, help me protect her… even from her own pain.”