Angela was 15 when everything changed. It was a Saturday, and she had spent all day helping Pastor Mark prepare for the church fundraiser that was to be held the next week. Pastor Mark always asked for her help when he had an activity to organize—he said Angela had a gift for event planning. And Angela was quite pleased with all they had accomplished that day. The upcoming dinner auction was bound to be a success.
She had been sitting across from Pastor Mark in his office for well over an hour, thoroughly engrossed in the task at hand, when suddenly the creeping sensation that he was watching her made her lose her focus. Angela looked up and for a split second she could see him staring at her intently, a strange look in his eyes and the tiniest smile on his lips. But almost as soon as she noticed it the expression was gone and Pastor Mark's warm, friendly smile had reappeared. Angela blinked and shook her head, sure she must have imagined it.
Pastor Mark stretched his arms behind his head and leaned back in his chair. "Well, Angela," he said with a sigh, "we sure got a lot done today, didn't we?"
Angela nodded contentedly. "Yes, we certainly did." She glanced over at the clock and was surprised to see how late it had gotten. "Goodness, it's 4:15 already. I should really get going." She stood, picked up the pile of forms she had been working on, and walked them over to the cardboard box across the room.
Angela heard Pastor Mark get up from his chair and when she turned around he was standing directly in front of her. He was staring at her with that strange, intense look in his eyes again—and this time, she knew she wasn't imagining it.
Wordlessly, Pastor Mark took her by the shoulders and leaned in, slowly moving his face towards hers. Angela's first thought was that he was going to give her his usual kiss on the cheek, but she quickly realized with a paralyzing jolt that that was not his intention. Frozen in shock, she stood motionless as his lips met hers.
Upon contact Pastor Mark pressed in with startling force. His breathing filled her ears, the taste of the Altoids he always shared with her flooded her mouth, and Angela had no idea what to do. Each second that passed felt like an eternity as she stood there, kissing him, stunned beyond all words. Finally, Pastor Mark pulled back and looked into her wide eyes with an expression of deep, unabashed desire. "You're so beautiful, Angela," he whispered. "So beautiful. I've always wanted you."
Angela felt her breath catch in her throat as a dizzying tsunami of emotions crashed down upon her. Heart beating wildly, her vision tunneled in on Pastor Mark while the rest of the room faded into oblivion. His piercing stare drew her eyes to his and, as if transfixed, she couldn't seem to look away. Their eyes remained locked as his last sentence rattled around in her head. The words echoed over and over again, louder and louder, until it was all she could hear. I've always wanted you. I've always wanted you. I've always wanted you.
After what had just happened, and with the way he was looking at her now, Angela knew what Pastor Mark meant when he said he wanted her. Since that first time when she had asked him about it, they had discussed sex many times and with an ever increasing level of detail. "You're a very mature young woman, Angela. I know I can talk to you about this," he would always say to her. And she had always listened because she wanted to prove him right. She was mature. She could handle it. Pastor Mark kept his eyes trained on her as he began to slide his hands down her arms. She knew exactly what it was he wanted from her.
Although she still couldn't seem to move, Angela initially felt the strong urge to pull away. This is wrong, isn't it? She had heard it too many times to count—to have sex before marriage was sinful, shameful, a betrayal to God Himself. And despite her well-developed skill for ignoring her own emotions, Angela simply couldn't ignore the uncomfortable, slightly panicked feeling that was growing stronger inside her with each second that passed.
But Pastor Mark was a man of God and she trusted him with every fiber of her being. He cared about her, he would never lead her astray, he would never do anything to hurt her. He must know something she didn't; there must be some reason why it would be acceptable for them to do what he wanted.
"One day, not so terribly far off, you're going to find the man you're meant to be with. And you'll need to know how to please him."
His words to her from years ago suddenly came rushing back. Pastor Mark must be that man. He must have known that, and all this time he had been waiting patiently to be with her. Angela tried to focus on the small amount of pride she felt at that thought. Pastor Mark, whom she loved, respected, and looked up to, wanted her. He thought she was beautiful. He thought she was mature. No one, not even Angela herself, ever thought she was good enough—except for Pastor Mark. He liked her, loved her enough that he wanted her. Right now.
Angela tried to shove the storm of uneasy feelings churning inside her to the back of her mind. She had no reason to be uncomfortable. Pastor Mark only wanted this because she had invited it. She had asked first; she had started this. And Pastor Mark had done so much for her over the years—bought her such beautiful things, welcomed her into his home, talked to her for hours on end about everything that was worrying her. She really did owe him this.
Angela kept her eyes locked on Pastor Mark. She took a deep breath in and let it out. He knew she was ready for this, even if she herself didn't feel like it.
So as Pastor Mark moved to unbutton her dress, Angela didn't stop him.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
The first time it happened had shocked her. The second time still managed to surprise her, but by the third time Angela knew what was coming. She quickly accustomed herself to the new routine—she still saw Mark as often as she had before, but what they did during their meetings was entirely different.
Sometimes Angela longed for the days when she could go to see Mark and they would just sit down and have a conversation, or he would help her with her homework or take her out for ice cream. But she knew that their relationship had morphed into one of a deeper, more mature kind of love that was far more meaningful. And as Mark liked to tell her, it had always been meant to be this way. He knew her and understood her better than anyone. He loved her like no one else ever had or ever would.
The way Angela saw it, she was married to Mark in all true senses of the word—and therefore, in the eyes of God. She wasn't married to him legally only because the law wouldn't allow them to wed just yet. But Angela was certain that they would marry when they were able. She never mentioned it to Mark because that would be far too forward, but she hardly thought it needed to be discussed anyway. Of course Mark was planning to marry her—he loved her. The sheer frequency with which he expressed it physically made that abundantly clear.
But Angela always knew, without Mark ever having to say it aloud, that for the time being their relationship was to remain a secret between the two of them. She knew that other people were unlikely to understand their unique situation, and that if they found out they might jump to conclusions that could damage Mark's reputation. And Angela never, ever wanted to risk that. The absolute last thing she would ever want to do was hurt Mark. So as the years went by she continued to see him in secret, awaiting the day when they could finally be together as man and wife.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
The summer before her 18th birthday, Angela had graduated from high school and was preparing to leave for college in the fall. She had decided to become an accountant because she had always been good with numbers and preferred to work alone.
Although somewhat excited to leave home, Angela dreaded being far away from Mark. She wasn't sure what she would do with herself when she arrived in her new city—for years now, whenever she hadn't been studying or doing chores, she had been with him. And for whatever reason, she couldn't shake the worry that things wouldn't be the same between them once they weren't able to be intimate as often. It was silly, of course, but the thought just kept infiltrating her mind. Angela did her best to push it away and savor every last moment she had with Mark.
She was thoroughly taken aback, though, when Mark arrived on her doorstep one warm evening in July. It was a little disorienting to see him there as he had never ventured further than the driveway in all the years she had known him. Angela's two separate lives—the one at home, and the one with Mark— had never before been mixed. So seeing Mark standing there when she opened the door felt almost surreal. But upon taking in his appearance Angela's confusion was quickly replaced by concern. Mark's hair was uncombed, his always clean shaven face was coated with stubble, his forehead glistened with sweat, and he was so out of breath that he was practically panting.
"Mark?" she questioned. "What—"
"Angela," he gasped, "is your father home?"
Angela glanced behind him, trying to discern what might have caused him to arrive in such a state. "No, he's out," she replied cautiously. "Is everything alright? You seem—"
Mark pushed his way inside, slammed the door shut, grabbed her by the arms and thrust his lips against hers before she had time to finish. Momentarily stunned, Angela froze as he continued to kiss her. When she felt his grip release slightly she pulled back. "Mark, what are you doing?" She was unsure whether to laugh or be somewhat worried. But Mark didn't bother to answer her question. He just kissed her again with greater force and began maneuvering the both of them down the hall towards the back of the house.
Before she knew it Mark was pushing her up against the wall in the kitchen and unbuttoning her dress. He made quick work of it, and within a few seconds he was slipping the sleeves off her shoulders. Angela felt the fabric brush past her legs as the dress fell to the floor.
Although still somewhat dazed by the rapidity of what had just occurred, based on the speed and force at which Mark was working Angela had a very good idea of what was coming next. Mark had never before come to her house, but it was far from the first time she had seen him like this. And previous experience had taught her that when he was in one of those moods it was best to just be quiet and give him what he needed. During those times, Mark just wanted her so badly that he seemed to tune everything else out—even the sound of her voice. So Angela closed her eyes and prepared herself for what she knew would be the next step in the process.
But without warning she was suddenly shoved aside with dizzying power. Her knees hit the hardwood floor with a loud thud just as a piercing scream rang out from behind her. Ignoring the pain now radiating down her legs, Angela twisted around and was hit with a sickening wave of shock. Rachael was standing in the doorway, wide-eyed, mouth agape, eyes darting wildly between Angela and Mark.
No one moved. No one spoke. The deafening quiet seemed to close in on Angela as the room began to spin. Faster and faster, around and around until Rachael's voice finally broke the silence. "Hey, you—you get away from her." Rachael's gaze had zeroed in on Mark, but her valiant attempt at a forceful tone was undercut by her obvious qualms at speaking to her pastor in such a manner. She swallowed hard and tried again with slightly greater confidence. "You leave her alone."
Still on the floor, Angela reached over to grab her dress and slid in on as quickly as possible. She stood, struggling to do up the buttons with her shaking hands, and looked over at Mark. She was both somewhat reassured and bewildered by the expression of total calm on his face as he stared at her sister. "Rachael," he said slowly, "you're obviously very surprised right now. And I understand that this might seem confusing to you. But I can assure you that—"
"No!" Rachael interrupted. She visibly recoiled at her own audacity, but quickly straightened back up. "No. It's not confusing. It's wrong." She looked over at Angela, then back at Mark. "Don't you know how wrong this is?"
Mark opened his mouth to say something else, but Angela cut in first. If Rachael was going to listen to anyone, it would be her. "Rachael, I can promise you that this isn't what you think. We've been together for…several years now, and—"
"What?" This knowledge evidently did nothing to appease Rachael, instead having the opposite effect. "Years? Angela, how old were you?" She turned back to Mark. "And you—"
"Rachael!" Angela could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins. "I know that this looks wrong. I understand. But I can promise you that it isn't. We love each other, Rachael, and we're going to… we're going to get married soon." Angela knew it was quite presumptuous of her to say such a thing, but she felt that the situation called for it. "Rachael, you know that Mar—Pastor Mark would never go against the Word of God."
Rachael still looked somewhat unconvinced as she looked between the two of them. "But you—you were—that's still not right."
Mark took a step towards her. "I can assure you, Rachael, that it is perfectly right."
Rachael glanced over at Angela, then looked up directly into Mark's eyes. "Is that true, what she said?"
Mark only waited a second before answering. "Of course it is."
A wonderful, warm feeling lit Angela up from the inside.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
A couple of weeks passed, during which the unspoken rule was that no one mention what had occurred the other night—even though it was clear that the incident was at the front of everyone's minds. Angela often caught Rachael giving her strange looks from across the room, and things even felt different between her and Mark. He just seemed somewhat distant since what had happened. But Angela chalked it up to his busy schedule. The church ran a lot of activities over the summer, so it was no wonder that he couldn't see her as often. And whenever she got worried about it she could reassure herself with the memory of what Mark had said to Rachael that evening.
On Wednesday afternoons, Angela always knew that she could find Mark at the church. He ran various counseling sessions in the morning, and he would be alone in his office for the rest of the day. So, as always, she planned to meet him there on the first Wednesday in August. The summer heat made her long walk rather unenjoyable, but the discomfort that had been preoccupying her vanished from her mind when she turned the corner and saw the church. A police car was in the parking lot across from the front entrance.
Angela quickened her pace. From across the street, she observed a police officer standing beside the parked vehicle, and several figures emerging from the front door of the church. As they exited the building she could see that it was a second officer leading a man out in handcuffs. Angela stopped dead in her tracks. She didn't even need to see the man's face to know who it was. Mark.
It felt as though all the air had been sucked from her lungs and her legs had been turned to lead. Angela couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think as she stood there frozen, watching the police officer pull Mark towards the patrol car. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, until Mark looked up and she was jolted from her trance. Like always, he appeared entirely composed—except for the panic that filled his eyes when he saw her.
Very slightly, almost imperceptibly, Mark gave a tiny shake of his head. His gaze remained fixed on her as the officer continued marching him forward. When Angela didn't move, the look in his eyes grew more urgent. He jutted his chin out towards her to motion that she turn around. Go, he mouthed.
Angela's feet started moving before her mind had time to catch up. Go, go, go. Get away. She turned and sped down the sidewalk without looking back. Even once she was blocks away from the church she didn't slow down. Her legs just kept propelling her forward despite the heat, despite the pain in her side, despite the pounding in her head, all the way back to her house. Angela only stopped walking once she was inside with the door shut firmly behind her.
"Angela?" Rachael had been sitting on the armchair in the front room, but she immediately jumped up upon seeing her sister. "Are you ok?"
Sweat was dripping down Angela's back, she could hardly catch her breath, and the loud, nonstop ringing in her ears was making her head hurt. "No," she wheezed, "I don't—I think Mark just got arrested." A sound escaped her lips that was somewhere between a gasp and a sob. "I don't know what happened! I don't know, I just—I just got there and the police had him…"
Rachael had begun shifting her weight back and forth between her feet the way she always did when she was nervous. She opened her mouth, closed it again, then looked down at the floor. "I know."
Angela paused for a second, unable to comprehend how this was possible. "What? What do you mean? How?"
Rachael took a deep breath, planted both feet firmly on the floor and slowly lifted her head to look her sister in the eyes. "I know because I called the police."
"What?!" Angela couldn't seem to form a coherent thought beyond that. Her mind was racing out of control. This was all too much, too many terrible shocks in one day for her to absorb. All she could do was stare at Rachael in disbelief for what seemed like hours.
"Ok, Angela—"
"I don't—how could you—why would you—why?" Angela found her voice as the initial shock faded into anger. She could feel it bubbling up inside her, deep and unrestrained. Rage like she hadn't felt in a long, long time.
"Angela, I need you to listen to me." Rachael was clearly fighting to keep her own voice steady. "After what happened, I…I got worried. You were 15, right? You were 15 when you started seeing him. And I just, I knew something not right was going on."
Angela shook her head, stunned. "Rachael, I told you! I told you I love him! We love each other, it's not—I wanted it!" Her fists were clenched so tightly that her nails dug painfully into her skin. Rachael didn't understand, couldn't understand how she felt about Mark. Couldn't understand how badly she needed him. Couldn't understand that he was the only person in the world who wanted her, who would ever want her.
"Please just let me finish." Rachael spoke faster and faster as her voice began to shake. "I was worried, so I went to his office at the church while he was out. Just to look around for anything that might…I don't know. I was really worried, Angela. And so I found this book."
Angela was speechless with horror. How dare her sister do this, how dare she invade Mark's privacy like that. "You—you had no right to do that. You had no right."
"I know Angela, but this book—it had all these pictures, so many of them, of these girls. Naked girls. It was awful. They were all so young, and I think most of them were from the church—I knew a lot of them. Vicky was in it, and Ellen, and Mary, and you…you were in it, but—"
"You stop that, right now." Angela's voice had gone low and quiet, searing with rage. Rachael had gone well past too far now. After what she had already done, having the audacity to further malign Mark's reputation was simply abhorrent. "You shut that filthy, lying mouth of yours right now."
"Angela, I'm not lying!" Rachael's tone was desperate now. "Pastor Mark was the one lying to you! He doesn't love you, Angela, he's just using you like he used all those other girls. What he's doing is just—"
"Shut up!" Angela could feel her whole body shaking with fury. "You're just jealous of me, aren't you. You're just jealous."
"No! I'm not, I just—"
"But you can't have what I have, so you thought you'd just take it from me. You thought you'd just call the police on an innocent man so that I can't have him anymore." Angela blinked back the hot tears threatening to fall. This betrayal hurt more than she would have ever thought possible.
"Angela, he is not innocent. What he's doing is a crime." Rachael paused, staring at Angela imploringly. "I didn't want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. I only did this to protect you, because you clearly can't see the truth for yourself."
"You fucking bitch." Angela surprised even herself with the force with which she slapped Rachael across the face. Rachael gasped and stepped back, an angry red mark spreading across her cheek. Angela couldn't tell whether her sister was more shocked by the vulgar language she had used or the blow she had just delivered, but she really didn't care. Rachael deserved to suffer for what she had done.
"Angela," Rachael choked out, "I promise I only did this to help you."
Angela shook her head. "No, you didn't." All her anger sunk to the pit of her stomach and she suddenly felt numb. Detached. Unfeeling. A calm certainty washed over her as she looked Rachael in the eyes. "I will never forgive you for this."
Angela turned on her heel, walked out the front door, and slammed it shut behind her.