He had a small attaché of a bag and he threw it onto the overhead netting, as daddy had done, then sat down opposite me, that was when I could see he...was a man of the cloth, his dog collar making a red ring-like mark on his neck, and like me, sweating profusely.My father was a religious man, not deeply or practising, but enough to address this stranger politely and show subservience, as priests come to expect from their parishioners, something I noticed he seemed to enjoy, as if he suddenly. I wasn’t even remotely calm.“It-it was a long time ago. Over ten years. I couldn’t tell you!” and I tried to justify myself, “I tried not to, I wanted to get out of there.”“And she forced you? Is that it? So you’re telling me it did happen?”Hell, what now? “It never happened again, I promise! Eleven years ago.”She opened her tablet again, “I quote, ‘Suddenly her lips were on mine. They were soft, so God dam soft’.” Now, I was shaking, the thought of that divorce lawyer went through my head. More

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