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I have got to have sex after I leave Kevin. This man is a priest; I can’t be wanting anything to do with him.
What is wrong with me?
“Yes, please, Father. You can meet with me any day or night. I’ll give you a very warm welcome,” I hear being whispered through giggles behind me. I turn to glance at who it is and find it’s none other than Missy Jenkins and Elaine Johnson sans husbands or children.
Turning back to face forward, I now have a slight scowl written on my face, and my arms are crossed. I was just as bad as them, but at least I kept my thoughts to myself. We are married women, after all. None of us should be looking at the new priest as if he’s a piece of meat.
I roll my eyes. Father Lachlan O’Connell, even his name has to be hot.
Trying to focus, I look up to see Father Lachlan’s gaze still on me as he now sits near the altar in the sanctuary. This time, his brows are furrowed together.
It quickly disappears as he needs to turn his attention to Father Greg, who’s now back on the podium going over the latest expansion campaign efforts.
I’m already bored by this attempt to get more donations out of us. The collection baskets just went through these pews not twenty minutes ago, and that’s on top of the online donating most of us do as well. Tithing to the church is a crucial aspect of being a member here.
Missy and Elaine are what one would consider socialites in Charleston and the biggest gossips around. They keep the rumor mill going in our circle.
Sure, I love to know things every now and then; what person doesn’t get a bit nosy? I just don’t like the way they speculate constantly. It really is something else entirely.
They are the standard trophy wives you would expect to find here, just like me. Missy is tall with shiny brown hair that falls down her back. She’s in her mid-thirties, but with the amount of plastic surgery she’s had done to her face, you’d probably guess she was younger than me.
Elaine, on the other hand, is almost the opposite. A petite woman with short blonde hair. She’s also had a lot of plastic surgery done to her face that you can clearly see. Elaine obviously didn’t go to Missy’s plastic surgeon.
They made Jenna Hartley, three rows up from me, cry at her child’s birthday party last month. Something over seeing Jenna’s husband getting cozy with the newest lawyer at his law firm. What they failed to mention was that it was a group of six lawyers from the firm, and he was seated nowhere near the leggy brunette new hire.
All of this was only confirmed by Elaine’s sister, Emily, who was at the same restaurant and, for some reason, spoke up against them when they told Jenna. Good for her if she wasn’t timid around Missy and Elaine.
If she hadn’t spoken up, I can’t imagine the destruction it would have caused the Hartleys. Would Jenna have stayed or left her husband?
This was similar to the decision I was now facing, but I already knew my answer. I don’t think it would have been as easy of a decision for Jenna to make with kids to take into consideration.
I’m lucky in that way. I’m only making this decision for myself. I would like to think I still would be leaving Kevin even if we did have a child together, but I honestly don’t know.
I’m grateful that isn’t the case. For once, staying strong against him is going to benefit me. I don’t think having a child would have prevented this mess I’m in now. I know his true colors would have continued to come out eventually. It’s just happening a lot quicker, given my choice not to start trying to conceive a child.
In our network, no one questions Missy and Elaine’s gossip but also, they never know what to believe from their mouths. Some of what they say is unfortunately true, or somewhat true at the very least.
Rumors could easily become like wildfire. It only takes one spark, and the entire forest could be burned down. They didn’t care if they burned down everyone around them. People rarely spoke up against Missy and Elaine if something was found not to be true. They simply moved on to the next piece of gossip that came up.
Missy and Elaine’s whispering lasted the rest of the Mass.
I can’t help but roll my eyes when I hear Missy telling Elaine she’s going to greet Father Lachlan.
Father Lachlan.
I don’t know how, in my shameless perusal, I didn’t see his white collar stand out against all the black, especially as I was daydreaming about licking his neck. The all-black clothing now makes sense. It is standard attire for priests in the Catholic Church.
I was a bit surprised he wasn’t in formal Mass attire when I saw him standing at the podium. But since he was waiting in the wings and not on the sanctuary all Mass as I would have expected, I’m assuming there was a specific reason behind that choice.
Now, Missy is about to try to sink her poisonous manicured claws into him. Just because I can’t sleep with him doesn’t mean I want her to either.
A pang of jealousy is ripping right through me. I need to get over whatever this attraction is. This is what happens to women who are kept in gilded cages and rarely brought out to play. That must be all this is.
He is a priest; it’s not like he’s going to be sleeping with anyone. Father Lachlan is God’s servant, after all.
Missy lacks a moral compass. She doesn’t care that her balding, overweight husband sleeps with twenty-year-old co-eds regularly. I get the impression as long as she no longer has to sleep with him, she doesn’t care. I had long ago assumed that she liked to sleep with twenty-year-old co-eds too.
Her pool boy, Blake, is frequently parked in front of their house when her husband’s car isn’t there. I only know this because we have the same pool boy, and he comes to my house just down the street once a week.
