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I hate that he’s so nice. I hate that Rooster found out about Jason and still treats me with all the tenderness of a lover. Sometimes when Jason gets mad, he yells and screams at me. Other times, he goes silent until I apologize for whatever I did to offend him. Not Rooster though. He just rubs my hand until I feel better.
“You know, when I went out last night, I wasn’t looking for you. I wasn’t looking for anything,” I tell him with a sigh. “I just wanted to have my bachelorette party and move on. It was just one night closer to my wedding.” I meet Rooster’s gaze with my own critical one. “But this was better. I needed this. I needed you.”
Rooster squeezes my hand and gives me a gentle smile. “How about this. I’m going to give you my number. You go home and talk to your fiancé. Find out what’s going to happen next. If I never hear from you again, I’ll believe that it’s because you’re getting the happily ever after you deserve. But if I get even one text message from you, I’m going to show up and sweep you off your feet. You are rare, Chastity, you’re the kind of girl that would make a man do crazy things. If you text me, I’ll do all the crazy things you want if it means you’ll go out with me. Give me a chance to show you what being in a relationship with someone who meets your needs is like. I promise I won’t ever make you feel the way that Jason has.”
It’s crazy, but I believe him. Part of me doesn’t even want to go home and talk to Jason, but I know that I have to. I take Rooster’s number when I leave though. If it turns out that my relationship with Jason goes forward, at least I’ll have these ten digits as a reminder of the wildest night of my life. That could be enough, right? That could tide me over for the rest of my days.
CHASTITY
It’s a Sunday morning service. I told Jason that I’d be here, but I didn’t make it. People are streaming out of the front doors and heading toward their cars; I only just pulled into the parking lot. Little groups of people gather by car doors and chat about their week. The pastor stands at the entrance, shaking the hands of people exiting.
I stopped by my house to change. It wasn’t out of respect for Jason, it was out of respect for the church. I didn’t want to show up in a dress that showed off more cleavage than some of these people had ever seen their wives show off. Now I sit in my car in a pair of jean shorts and a t-shirt, hardly appropriate attire for a Sunday service, but better than my borrowed bachelorette party dress.
I wait until half the cars are gone before I get out of mine. I see a few of the remaining eyes drift in my direction and the older folks frown.
“Chastity, honey, are you feeling sick?” One of the regulars asks.
I smile kindly and shake my head no. “Just thought I’d wear something comfortable today. Sorry I missed service.” This prompts a flurry of whispers as the gossips of the church start spreading the word that the Office Manager arrived in an inappropriate outfit.
I hold my head high and walk to the entrance regardless. The pastor looks at me with kind eyes, but there’s a tint of worry in his gaze.
“Chastity,” he greets warily, “you look different this morning.” He’s used to the pastel dresses and subservient behavior displayed by his youth pastor’s fiancé. But in the Uber home from Rooster’s, I realized that I want to be more than that.
“Thank you,” I tell him with a smile. “Is Jason still here?” He nods his head in confusion and points inside, mumbling something about being in his office. “I know where it is. Take care.”
But Jason isn’t in his office. He’s in the sanctuary with a couple of teenagers. The two of them are holding hands, a boy and a girl, and he’s looking at their touch disparagingly. As I come closer, I catch his gaze. He takes one look at me and his whole spiel is thrown off. Jason is telling the kids that the time for affection is when they’re married, not when they’re young, but he stops in his tracks when he notices what I’m wearing. “We’ll uh, we can talk on Wednesday?” The end of his sentence comes up like a question and Jason clears his throat. “Yes, Wednesday, at youth group. Try and remember God’s purpose for your life in the meantime. He did not create us with coupling in mind.”
The two kids turn and walk passed me, hand still in hand. I hear a snicker from the girl, but I ignore it. “What were we created for then?” I ask Jason as I get closer.
A frown appears on his face, eyebrows forced down as he looks at me. “What?” Jason shakes his head. “What are you wearing? Why weren’t you at church this morning?”
It wouldn’t have mattered. Jason leads the teens in a different area of the church while I sit with his family or by myself. “It’s hot outside,” I tell him with a shrug. “I thought I’d make myself comfortable.”
Jason blinks as he looks at me. If his brain is trying to understand what just happened, it’s not doing a great job. “Chastity, I can’t take you seriously right now. That’s incredibly inappropriate for church. Thank God you didn’t come to the service.”
“Why?” I stop a few feet away from him. “Would God not accept my worship and praise if I showed up wearing shorts?”
He shakes his head at me and slides into a pew, taking a seat as he runs his fingers through his hair. “It’s not about that,” Jason says in a flustered tone. “It’s about honoring the members and the pastors. This,” he gestures toward my outfit, “that’s not respectful.”
Shorts are not respectful. Showing my thighs is not respectful. These aren’t even booty shorts, God forbid, they go down past my mid-thigh. The t-shirt that I’m wearing doesn’t cling to my figure or show off my breasts. It doesn’t have any foul language on it or anything suggestive. It’s a simple white t-shirt, hiding its contents well. “When we get married, what’s going to change?”
Jason tears his eyes off the length of my shorts and looks up at me. “Your Sunday best, I hope,” he says quite seriously.
“Do you know what I did last night?” I slide into a pew two rows back. I thought that I’d be more afraid of telling him what I did, but I feel a strange calmness wash over me.
He shakes his head no. “Wasn’t it your bachelorette party?” Jason frowns as if trying to remember my schedule; it’s never been as important to him as his own schedule. “Did Blake get you drunk? Is that why you look like this? Are you hungover?” I open my mouth to respond, but he plows over me. “I keep telling you that she’s a bad influence, Chastity. She’s always wearing those little mini dresses and high heels, showing off her body to anyone who wants to see it. She’s a walking indecent exposure felony and you need to stay away from her. I know she’s your maid of honor, but after the wedding, we need to have a serious talk about your friends.”
I’m stunned to silence by his admission. He’s told me countless times about how much he dislikes Blake, but I never thought he’d want to stop me from being friends with her. She’s the only person who understands me. “No, I don’t think we will.”
The truth shall set you free. Isn’t that from the Bible? “Last night I slept with someone else, Jason. I felt like I was missing something and he filled that space for me. He didn’t ask any questions or make me feel bad, he was just there.”
“Wait a second. You didwhatlast night?” Jason stands up in his pew and looks down at me with all the anger he can summon. “What am I not giving you, Chastity? I’m a good man. I have a good job doing the Lord’s work. I have never treated you unkindly. I’m going to take care of you for the rest of our lives. What else could you possibly want?”
I follow him in standing up, but I don’t need glares or anger to get my point across. “I wanted to feel like you loved me, Jason, not like I was some piece of property to add to your collection. I’ve never been the girl you thought you’d wind up with. Hell, I’m wearing shorts right now and you’redisappointedin me. You think that’s normal? You think that makes me feel good about myself?”
Jason puts his hands on his hips in a display of dominance. “God tells wives to submit to their husbands, Chastity. I’ve tolerated your mistakes for years. I knew you weren’t perfect, but I loved you. God called me to love you the day we met. Do you know how often I prayed to Him to ask for guidance? Lord, help me to love her despite her brokenness. Help me to care for her despite her flaws. You aren’t perfect, Chastity, and neither am I, but together we are perfect for one another.”
I stop listening. I see his lips moving, but I don’t hear a word.Help me to love her despite her brokenness.The day that we met was one of the lowest of my life. I thought that my career dreams were hopeless and that I’d never find happiness. I was broken, sure, but not beyond repair.
