Tamara made her way down the hall; she knew he'd do it again, her high heels echoing a gate of sorrow. Memories of her husband's infidelity seemed to evade her thoughts. The first lady of Mt. Zion's Peace Baptist Church sought solace in each movement, an uncommon peace in a pace of surrender. How would she explain to her husband that she couldn't love him or forgive him anymore and why did she care. How would she tell the ladies in the church that she no longer desired to be first lady? Michael, or Pastor Stevens, had lied on so many levels; from the pulpit to the bedroom of almost every woman in the church/communities back door and he was delivering more than a good word. This time it was more than she could stand, the good reverend had done something despicable, he slept with a new woman in the fold that Tamara had taken under her wing. God had laid Trina on her heart, showed her that the stem of her pain came from confusion and repeated hurts. She'd been left by two former husbands and was now needy and broken. It was Tamara's joy to lead her to the Rock of her Salvation, Jesus, not the lusty doctrine of a now wayward shepherd. She hadn't even thought of shielding Trina from her husband. They'd shared spiritual conversations about her, spoke in faith toward her recovery and prayed for the 40 year old single mother on numerous occasions. So Tamara just assumed the heart of God to deliver souls from personal torment was still in her husband and he could see beyond Trina's thighs. The sadness of this spiritual battle crept into Tamara's soul; she had forgiven him a million times while kneeling beside their bed. She had cupped his head at the altar as he swore he would not allow the Devil to destroy his marriage with the disease of infidelity. That would be of course each time one of the ladies he was messing with took a stand against him and wanted Pastor to leave her for them. Tamara could think of no other time he was brought to tears in public over her. As tears slid down her oval cheeks she reflected on the one on one counseling sessions she shared with Trina, through those moments she had also began to heal. But that would be overshadowed now by the image of Trina jumping up from her husband's lap with no clothes on in his office. "Dumb bastard," Tamara managed to mutter while wiping her face with a tear soaked sleeve.