It amused her how quickly he was stripping his clothes off and how ravenously he was kissing her… he wanted to hurry, and get to do it, before he lost his nerve (which could happen any minute).

Once it was done, and he was sitting in bed beside her, the look of misery on his face also amused her.

“You look like you feel guilty. I don’t think you should feel guilt because you sinned against God. But, you should feel some guilt about being unfaithful to that homely wife of yours.”

He looked at her and said, “You’re angry with God…” It was more a statement than question.

“No, of course not. I didn’t get angry with Him and…” (she made quotes in the air with her fingers), “‘turned my back on him’. He’s simply not there. You can’t be angry with something that doesn’t exist. However, I can be angry with the Christians that manipulated, brain-washed, and condemned. They definitely exist.”

She was sure that what she’d just said was clear and comprehensive, but his face was coloured with mild confusion.