The Boy I Loved in Secret Became My Pastor—And I Was the Only One Who Knew His Secret: Episode 4

The Boy I Loved in Secret Became My Pastor—And I Was the Only One Who Knew His Secret: Episode 4

EPISODE 4 — “That Secret”

I didn’t sleep that night.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face. Not the grown version wearing suits and holding microphones — the younger one. The boy with innocent eyes and promises that melted my heart.

But his words that day, seven years ago, were louder than all the sermons he would ever preach.

It was during one of our secret meetups at the back of the youth fellowship centre. Rain was falling softly. I had forgotten my umbrella, and he had walked me back after midweek prayers.

We stood under the mango tree — our usual hiding spot. I remember the way his voice dropped that evening, how his fingers played with mine like he was trying to keep me calm.

“There’s something I’ve never told anyone, Nelo,” he said.

He always called me Nelo. Short for Neloaku — my full name. No one else did.

“If I tell you, you must promise it stays with you forever.”

I nodded, heart pounding.

He looked around — not because anyone was nearby, but because whatever he was about to say carried weight.

“I struggled with something… something dark. And I thought I had overcome it. But last year, I… I fell again.”

I didn’t understand at first. Fell where? Did what?

Then he said it.

What he got involved in. What he participated in. How he was trapped by a group of guys who masked sin as spirituality. A circle of church boys who were trusted in the youth fellowship but had a secret life.

One that involved manipulation.

And abuse.

I didn’t ask too many questions that day. I was too young to grasp the weight. I just knew he felt broken. Ashamed.

“God is healing me,” he said. “But if this ever gets out… Nelo, it’ll destroy everything.”

I made a promise. I kept it.

Until now.

Now he was standing on a pulpit, laying hands, counseling youths, and giving altar calls.

And I was still carrying that secret.

I had never told anyone.

Not even Dora, my closest friend since university.

But last Sunday proved something — Tochukwu wasn’t running anymore. He had found boldness, confidence… maybe even peace.

But I hadn’t.

That same Sunday after church, I stayed back to pick something from the usher stand. That’s when I heard voices from the pastor’s office.

The door was slightly open.

“…she’s been consistent in this church,” I heard Pastor Tunde say. “If you’re thinking of new leadership for the youth arm, Nelo is someone we trust.”

I froze.

Me? Youth leadership?

No, no, no.

Toch’s voice followed.

“Yes, I remember her from back in the day. She’s… reliable.”

Reliable?

I slipped away quickly before they noticed I’d been standing there.

The walk home felt like a movie in slow motion.

This man who had ghosted me. Who had held my hands and whispered secrets. Who had vanished, leaving me to pick up the pieces of my seventeen-year-old heart…

He was now about to recommend me for church leadership?

God, what is this?

As I opened my gate, one thought echoed louder than the rest:

What if the secret he told me wasn’t just a past struggle… but something still alive?

To be continued…