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He Cleansed My Soul and Then Lost His Own
On my wedding night, my husband, Caleb—the man everyone called “the walking Bible”—held our bedroom door open for his best friend, Micah. Quoting scripture, he said he wanted to “cleanse” the soul of a worldly woman like me. The next day, he looked at the bruises on my body and asked gently, “Are you clean now? Only then are you worthy of our family’s grace.” I said nothing. From that day on, I locked away every last feeling I had for him. For seven years, I was the polished Mrs. Winston in public. In his eyes, I was a sinner who needed to be hammered and chiseled into shape. He was the dazzling church leader, the spiritual idol of his congregation, yet in the name of all things “holy,” he subjected me to a slow execution of the soul. It all came to a head when his father’s church foundation launched a hostile takeover and drove my family into bankruptcy. My broken mother threw a glass of water in my face and screamed, “You brought the devil into our home!......