I cringe again at the word.
“We-” my face blushes as I stammer. “I mean, we-”
“I don’t need the details,” the priest says with a chuckle. “However, again, if it’s weighing you down, I’m here to help you with that.”
“Thank you. I- he’s not-” I stop and take a shaky breath. “He’s not someone I should be with.”
“Is he a wicked man?”
I bite my lip. “No.”
“Married?”
I laugh. “No, not like that.”
“Does he hurt you?”
“Oh, no, he’s just…I shouldn’t be with him.”
“And you’re worried that God frowns on you being with this man.”
“Yes.”
Being with.
As in, “letting Rowan Hammond slide his fingers inside of me and make me feel things I’ve never felt before.”
Making me… come like that.
So dirty, so, sinful, so just not okay.
“It’s my personal opinion, my child, that no God would get mad at two of his children willingly choosing to be with each other. But, to your end, I do absolve you of your sins.”
My shoulders sag as I let what feels like a breath I’ve been holding for a whole day come whooshing out.
“Trust your heart, my dear. And there you will find the moral way and God’s love.”
“Thank you, Father.”
I stand on shaky legs and step out of the dark confessional booth.
And for a minute, I do feel better. For a minute, I feel like maybe I’ve put this behind me and gone back to the light.
It only lasts a minute though. Because it’s barely a minute before I’m right back to thinking of the night before, and what we did. And suddenly, I don’t feel absolved at all.
I feel even more confused.
It’s been three days after the incident, as I’m choosing to call it, and I’ve decided the best course of action is to avoid him. After all, I wasn’t like this before I came here. I wasn’t wicked, and full of sinful thoughts and desires before meeting him. Avoiding him should fix that. This whole absurd idea to have him teach me — I shiver.
No.
No more of that, thank you very much. That’s me being weak, and giving in to temptation. That’s an excuse to sin and feel like I can absolve myself of it by saying it’s towards a good end.
It’s not.
It’s just me wanting him.
Which is why I decide the best action here is to remove myself entirely from his presence, until I can go back to me.
The normal me.
The me that respects her father. The me who doesn’t lie, or sneak out at night, or drink alcohol, or have horrible, dirty thoughts about the sinful man from the bar.
Nope, I’m done with that version of me.
Rowan is absent from the job site for three days — three merciful days where I can breath — where I can try and forget the insanity of that night with him.
It doesn’t work very well, but it’s a start.
“Are you excited for Milton to be here in two days?”
I blink away my thoughts as I turn back to Chastity. “Two days?”
She rolls her eyes. “Have you seriously forgotten that?”
“Yeah, wow, I guess I have.”
“Eva, he’s your fiancé.”
“Well, not yet. I mean, not technically.”
“Your father picked him, he might as well be.” Chastity sighs. “You’re so lucky, Eva.”
“Yeah…” I look at the heap of donation clothes in front of me. “Yeah, lucky.”
God, he’s coming in two days? Two days from now, I need to shake off this Rowan specter and get him off of my mind. The proper thing — the good, Godly thing — is to forget him and think ahead to Milton.
My future husband.
The church man, the community member. The older, been-married-before stranger I don’t even know.
I stare at the pile of donation clothes that Chastity and I are sorting through, dazing out.
“Hey, Eva!” I glance up to see Sierra, Rowan’s little sister, smiling as she walks over.
“Oh, hey!”
“Hi, Chastity!”
“Hello,” Chastity says coolly, raising a judgmental eye at Sierra’s leggings.
“What are you guys up to?”
“Sorting clothing donations.”
“Want some help? I came out for the weekend from school.” She sighs. “I need a break.”
“How’s grad school?”
“Hard.” She laughs. “It’s good, but really, really hard. Really busy.”
“In Boston, right?”
“Yeah, it’s an amazing city, I just…well, I think I’m a Shelter Harbor girl at heart.”
“It’s a beautiful town.”