It was only six a.m., but Porsha was already up on her treadmill, crying a flood of tears and watching Pastor Gwyn Shepherd. She’d tried her best not to sleep with Dillon last night, and just as she’d thought, she sorely regretted that she had. After leaving the women’s ministry meeting on Thursday, she’d decided to abstain from having sex, but just one day later she’d failed at it. She had allowed lust to outweigh her conscience and the stance she was trying to take against fornication. But this time, she’d extended her sin even further—she’d allowed Dillon to spend the night, and he was still upstairs, sleeping. This worried her, because if she didn’t stop what she was doing, the next thing she knew they’d be living together. Shacking up as though there was nothing wrong with it and forgetting about what was important.
Porsha wiped her face with both hands and tried to settle down. Then she turned up the volume on the television. Not so loud that it would wake Dillon, but to a level where she could hear Gwyn’s sermon over her treadmill.
“One of the toughest things Christian single men and women deal with is fornication,” Gwyn said, and Porsha knew she hadn’t turned on the television by mistake. She also knew that whenever God gave you what you needed—when you needed it—coincidence had nothing to do with it. Everything with God was always on purpose and timely.
Gwyn swiped her tablet screen and then looked out at her audience. “This is the reason I love James, chapter four, verses seven through ten, which says, ‘So humble yourselves before God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come close to God, and God will come close to you. Wash your hands, you sinners; purify your hearts, for your loyalty is divided between God and the world. Let there be tears for what you have done. Let there be sorrow and deep grief. Let there be sadness instead of laughter, and gloom instead of joy. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up in honor.’
“This passage says everything. It outlines the struggle of trying to do right but ultimately doing wrong. Then, when we’re talking about sex before marriage, sometimes men can feel weaker when it comes to abstaining, and women have to set the example. You have to stick to your values and uphold your decision. Keep your promise to God. Because let’s face it, He didn’t create His Ten Commandments just for the sake of doing so. He created them so we would abide by them. And, of course, when we don’t, there can be a serious price to pay—especially when you commit a sin and you know it’s a sin, yet you continue doing it anyway. You end up reaping what you sow in one way or another. Plus, there’s something else you need to remember. If a man truly loves you and respects your wishes about not having sex before marriage, he won’t keep pressuring you about it. He won’t ask you to do something that goes against your Christian beliefs.”
Porsha heard everything Gwyn was saying and felt as though her spirit was being renewed with every word. Yes, she’d backslid again with Dillon last night, but no more. She was so much better than that. And her mind was made up about something else: She couldn’t put off confessing to the congregation about her selfish and ungodly reasons for becoming a minister.
Porsha raised the incline on her treadmill, feeling energized and hopeful. Then, surprisingly, her doorbell rang. She frowned because rarely did anyone drop by unannounced this early on a Saturday morning. But maybe it was one of her neighbors and something was wrong.
So she muted her television, paused her workout program, and went to the front door. But when she looked through the frosted-glass window, she saw Steve. He saw her, too, and she thought she would pass out.
He beat on her door multiple times and rang her bell like an unruly child. “Open up this door, Porsha!”
Porsha slowly backed away, praying he would leave. But he didn’t.
“I knew this was the reason you started acting like you didn’t want me anymore. Now, open up this door!”
Porsha moved closer to one of the entryway walls, still wishing he would go away.
“And I know you…got all my…messages,” he said, slurring his words and staggering. “I know you did, but now you’re laying up with some…new man. Open up! Open this door, so I can see who this nobody is. Why don’t you…let me see the competition?”
Porsha had never known him to drink so much as wine, but he was completely intoxicated.
Steve rang the bell again—repeatedly—and slammed his fist against the door.
Porsha stepped back into the entryway. “Steve, please go home. I’m begging you.”
“Why? So you can keep disrespecting me with another man? You’re my woman.”
“I’m not, Steve, and you know it. Now, please leave.”
Steve punched the door again. “You’re nothing but a lying whore…pretending to be all God-fearing. And you…call yourself…a minister. Please.”
Porsha heard Dillon rushing down the stairs, and she closed her eyes with worry. This was the very thing she’d been afraid of, and she wished Steve had left when she’d asked him.
“Who’s out there keeping up all that commotion?” he said. “This early in the morning?”
Porsha couldn’t speak even if she wanted to. Because not only hadn’t she wanted Dillon and Steve to meet, she also hadn’t wanted Dillon finding out that she’d been seeing a married man. Dillon already knew she’d slept with him when he’d been married to Raven, but she still didn’t want him knowing she’d continued doing that kind of thing. She was so embarrassed.
“Baby, who is that?” Dillon asked again.
“Oh, so there he is!” Steve said. “And maybe since your little whore won’t let me in, you will.”
Dillon brushed past Porsha and reached for the doorknob.
But she grabbed him by his arm with both hands. “Dillon, please don’t.”
“Why? Who is it? The guy you told me you were seeing?”
Porsha just stared at him, because even though she’d broken up with Steve, she’d never mentioned that to Dillon. She’d simply wanted to forget about that whole relationship. But now here he was, bright and early, causing a scene for her and her neighbors.
“Look,” Dillon said, “I’m either opening the door and dealing with this fool, or I’m calling the police.”
“No,” Porsha pleaded. “Maybe he’ll just leave on his own.”
“Baby, he’s drunk. Can’t you see that? And he’s obviously not happy about you having another man in here. So trust me, he’s not going anywhere.”
“You trick-whore,” Steve yelled. “After I went to my wife this week and asked for a divorce, this is how you do me? This is how you treat me…when you kept claiming you loved me?”
Dillon looked at Porsha, seemingly unfazed by what Steve had just said, and reached for the doorknob again.
But Porsha stopped him—again. “Let’s just go into the family room. Because eventually he’ll get in his car and leave.”
“And what if he doesn’t?”
“He will,” she said, silently praying that she was right and leading Dillon down the hallway.
But the next thing they heard was a loud crash and glass shattering in the living room. And when they rushed in there, they saw a large landscaping rock that Steve had likely taken from Porsha’s yard. Porsha and Dillon now hurried to the front door, but Steve was already getting in his car and starting it up. Within seconds he sped off, and Porsha was relieved. Until they heard another crash and saw that Steve had slammed his car into a stop sign.
Dillon looked at Porsha. “That’s it. I’m calling the police, whether you like it or not. Before this fool kills somebody.”
Porsha didn’t even bother arguing with him, because she knew it had to be done. Steve was highly intoxicated and driving around like he was sober. He was a total mess, and he had to be stopped. Not later today or tomorrow, but now.