The Book Groupie, aka Doug’s mistress, is coming back to my town this weekend.
Her travel is paid for as part of a grant she won, when he was still alive.
The first stage of the grant brought her here from 2700 miles away and I certainly could have lived without that stress!
The facility I now direct houses a historical archive of the publishing event person that was Doug’s friend. The mistress was a huge fan of publishing event subject, which is how she met Doug.
She and Doug planned to use our mutual friend’s home as a place to be together under the nose of his unsuspecting wife, but his condition worsened and he was lifeflighted to another larger city while she was forced to remain in classes at a nearby university to fulfill the requirements of the grant.
Our mutual friend lives near my office and the mistress stayed with Mutual Friend for a few days.
I prayed and fasted over that situation and begged God, “Lord, please, I absolutely can’t deal with this. Please protect me and make it so that I never have to see the mistress.”
At the time, I didn’t think that was even possible. I thought I was foolish for even asking God for that favor.
Yes, I had three days of hell and panic every time the door opened. But she never once darkened the door.
And now she’s coming back.
I feel different this time.
Doug repaired our friendship and did so many things to ensure that we reconciled before he died.
I was the one who delivered Doug’s last message to her. I was the one who called her when he died.
Now I’m the one who is aching to see her face to face.
I can’t even explain it and I don’t understand stand it, but I want to see her.
I want to comfort her. And I want her to comfort me. I want to cry with her, about Doug.
She is the only person in this world who could ever understand my grief over Doug’s death.
She is also the only person in this world who can understand the depth of my guilt.
And I want to see her. I just don’t know how to ask.