It was Sunday morning.
Enoch Miller had an elders’ meeting after the service.
Corinne lay in bed waiting for him.
She waited in the church lobby with her mother.
She waited by the flagpole.
She waited for thirteen years.
Corinne was waiting in her own bed. In his bed. The bed they shared.
She wondered if Enoch was in the church basement right now, repenting. If he was laying himself low … She’d made him promise that he wouldn’t say he regretted it.
It was Sunday morning, which meant Corinne was alone.
She was home in their bed, waiting for him.