Amara looked down at her hands on her lap. Her fingers fidgeted like she had done something wrong.
She didn't speak at first. She had expected him to ask her this question, but not in this exact wording.
After a while, she cleared her throat. "Life happened," she said, then looked up with a small smile. "You know what's funny? The day we met was the day I just made up my mind to become a runs girl."
Michael's heart skipped a beat.
If only he had listened to the Holy Spirit. If only he had preached to her, maybe she wouldn't have done it.
Michael's eyes stayed on her face, and he tried not to let his thoughts show on his face. "Why did you decide to become a runs girl?"
She sighed softly. "Nothing was working. Life was tough. My mom was battling with cancer. My father is late. I'm the first child, and I have younger ones. I didn't know what to do. I kept praying. At first. But slowly… I stopped because it wasn't working. I tried to stay close to God. But when you're always hungry, and you're always scared and depressed, it becomes hard to think of anything else. I had no one to go to. The only person that offered me any real help was Valerie. She is the one who introduced me to it."
Her voice dropped lower, as if she didn't want him to hear but also wanted him to know.
"Isn't that the person you said you can't go to her house because she connected you to the chief?" he asked.
She nodded and then went ahead and explained her arrangement with Valerie to him.
"She took eighty percent of whatever you earned?" Michael asked in disbelief.
Amara laughed humorlessly, "I know I was stupid to agree to that. I was just very desperate. And I trusted her. I thought maybe if I did it, I'd be able to save enough money to go to school and open my own fashion store."
"You don't have a university degree?" Michael asked, not wanting to believe that God wanted a graduate— a pharmacist like him to marry someone who didn't have a university degree.
"Why do you sound surprised? Do you think everyone is lucky enough like you to be able to go to the university?" Amara asked with a slight frown.
"No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so surprised," Michael said apologetically.
"I didn't plan to become like this," Amara said. "I just wanted to survive. I wanted to be able to take care of my family. I didn't want my mother to die because if she died, then things would be even worse for me because I'd have to go live with my younger ones in the village or bring them here. I didn't want that."
Her voice cracked at the end. She looked away and wiped her eyes quickly with the back of her hand.
Michael didn't say anything. His arms were crossed. His face was unreadable.
Amara continued. "I hated myself for it every day. I kept hoping I'd pay Valerie off so I could get my savings from her and stop. Chief was supposed to be the last. I planned to stop whether or not she kept her word and gave me my money."
Michael sat back. He let the silence stretch between them as he processed her words.
"Jesus loves you," he said quietly.
Amara nodded slowly. "Yes. I know. Last night told me that much."
He looked at her again, not sure what to say now. "How is your mother's health?"
"She is better now. Her health is much better."
"So, now that this has happened and things are like this, what's your plan?" Michael asked, wanting to know if she had figured out what to do.
Amara sighed softly. "I don't want to go back to the village. I can't. I will try to find something to do…"
"Where will you stay while finding what to do?" Michael cut in before she could finish.
"I'm still thinking about it. I will figure out something," she said confidently.
Michael sighed and rubbed his palm over his face. "Do you want to go back?" he asked.
Amara blinked. "Go back where? I just said…"
"I mean to go back God. To singing for God. To being a born again child of God."
"I already did," she whispered.
Michael raised a brow. "When?"
"At the hotel. I prayed. I asked God to forgive me. I'm not sure if He heard me or if He has forgiven me. But I prayed," Amara said, and Michael nodded, relieved.
Thank God his work had been made easier. Now, she had repented. He could help her find a place to stay and maybe something to do, then leave her to God to do the rest.
"If you truly repented, He'll take you back. God never throws His children away," Michael assured her.
She sighed softly. "I hope so."
"Tomorrow," he said, "I want you to come to church with me."
Amara nodded. "I will."
Michael checked his wristwatch. It was almost 8:30.
"I'll drop you off at the hotel and pick you up in the morning. Can you be ready before 8?" he asked.
"8? How many hours is the service? When will church close?" She asked, hoping it wouldn't be more than two hours. She hated long services.
Michael looked at her in disbelief. He didn't need to read her mind to know why she asked. Her tone had said it all.
Just look at the kind of person God was asking him to marry, Michael thought with a shake of his head.
"We close by 11:30, latest noon. Why? Is there somewhere you want to go?" he said, and she winced.
"No. I was just asking," she said, and he nodded.
Michael stood. "Let me drop you off. It's late."
Amara stood slowly and followed Michael as he led her outside.
The car was silent for a while as they drove, and then Amara turned to him. "It's funny that I met you first on the same day I planned to start… that lifestyle and that I met you again just when I wanted to stop."
Michael didn't answer immediately. "Yeah," he muttered, choosing not to tell her that God had asked him to preach to her that first time.
Amara didn't speak again.
When they reached the hotel, Michael parked the car. He didn't get out.
"Tomorrow. 8 a.m."
"I'll be ready by then," she said.
He looked at her one more time. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," she said softly, then opened the door and stepped out.
Michael watched as she walked into the hotel. He didn't drive off until she disappeared through the glass doors.
Then, slowly, he started the car and drove into the night, his heart heavier than before.
Thankfully, when Michael got home, his mother was asleep, so he ate his food and retired to his bedroom.
He spent most of the night praying and asking God to show him mercy and let the cup pass over him.
The next morning, he went to church for workers' meeting, and when they were done with the meeting, he took excuse from the pastor in charge of the church to go pick Amara.
He arrived at the hotel ten minutes past eight and asked the receptionist to inform Amara that he was waiting.
Two minutes later, Amara stepped into the reception to meet him, and he was pleasantly surprised to see that she was dressed decently like a church girl.
She was dressed in a well-covered knee-length blue dress and black low-flat shoes. A black scarf properly covered her long braids.
Kai! This is how men are deceived! Who will see this one in church and ever imagine that she is a runs girl that does threesome? Michael wondered as he watched her approach.
"Good morning, Pastor Mike," Amara greeted with a pleasant smile.
Again, he didn't smile back, even though her smile was very pretty and contagious. He refused to be swayed by it.
"Good morning. I'm glad you're ready. Let's go," he said as he headed for the door, and she followed him.
The drive to the church was silent. Michael didn't say anything, and Amara didn't seem eager to start a conversation.
After a while of silence, Michael turned to her and said, "Why are you quiet?"
"You are quiet, too," she pointed out.
"What are you thinking about?" He asked, ignoring her response.
Amara sighed softly, "I'm just thinking about my life."
"Just pray about it. Don't worry, I'm sure God has good plans for you," Michael said confidently.
"I hope so," Amara said, and then she frowned when she noticed the route he was taking. It was familiar. Too familiar.
"Your church is in this street? What is the name of your church?" She asked, her frown deepening.
"Redeemed Christian Ministry," he said, and her heart skipped a beat.
"Eh?"
"What? Do you know it?" Michael asked when he noticed the surprise on her face.
"That's my former church," she said, her heart beating fast now. "When did you become a pastor there? I never saw you there before."
"This is your former church?" Michael asked as he drove into the church premises. "I resumed at the church two weeks ago. I think it was the Sunday after we met. My cousin's husband is the pastor in charge there."
Amara's jaw dropped. "Your cousin?"