Sweetest Sin(16)

“For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God,” he said. “Romans 3:23. This is true of every man, every woman…every priest.”

I held my breath, though the room quieted, ready for Father Raphael to lead the study.

Mom stood instead.

“Mm, mm. This is too true.” She wagged a soulful finger. “Now I know a lot about sinning…probably more than most of you here.”

This was the first time Mom probably overestimated her past, especially in comparison to the sins I had just committed. I tugged on her sleeve, but she shrugged me away.

Judy folded her hands and forced a shrug. “How…illuminating.”

“I’ve done too many bad things to too many good people,” Mom said. “The drugs and the drinking…you don’t know sin until your husband wakes you up, half-naked at a truck-stop after you took the car with an expired license to get cigarettes.”

This wasn’t happening. I faked a chuckle and called to her. “Mom, we should keep reading the verse—”

“When my little girl was fifteen? Her grandma sent her a cross, little thing with a real diamond in the middle.” Mom gazed down at me. I didn’t have time to prepare for this truth bomb. “I’m sorry, baby. I pawned it and bought a bottle of Oxy instead.”

My heart sunk.

I remembered that moment. It wasn’t just any cross. It was the necklace Granddad bought to propose to Grandma. She was crushed when I said I’d never received it.

That was the day an eighty-year-old woman cried in her granddaughter’s arms.

And now was when I realized it wasn’t for the lost necklace. She had cried over her lost daughter.

If only she lived a while longer. Now Mom was sober, healthy, and reliving her past with shattered pride and humility.

Except I wasn’t ready to share in that moment. My stomach turned, and the memory shattered too much inside me. The group looked to Father Raphael to steal back the spotlight.

Judy hummed. “Right. Sins like…those. They’re all forgiven, right, Father?”

I couldn’t handle their stares or Mom’s pinching grip on my hand. I stood, murmuring enough to convince people I needed to use the restroom.

Father Raphael watched me go, his voice low and graveled with sincerity.

“Yes. All is forgiven.”





Chapter Four – Raphael




My angel believed she’d fallen from grace.

But I knew she had been sent to grant that grace to me.

It was my place to attend the bible study, guiding the women of my parish as they debated and researched their role in the church and community. Usually, I served them well. Tonight, my thoughts drifted.

Dark. Dangerous.

Sinful.

Honor looked beautiful.

I no longer focused on the Bible in my hand. The conversation discussed one of the most important quotes and aspects of our faith, but I didn’t hear it. I stared at Honor’s empty seat and counted the seconds, breaths, aching pulses of my heart until she returned.

The confessional still haunted her, just as it moved me. I’d never purge the thoughts from my mind, but I longed for the torment of her soft whimper. I knew it was wrong to indulge in a moment of that agonizing perfection, but I still took satisfaction from knowing the truth.

She’d orgasmed at my command.

I read the quote again, memorized it, recited it to myself in English and Latin.

For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.

Some sinned willingly. Others reluctantly. And some fell because they had no defense against the darkness poised to steal their soul in the easiest, most sensual deceit.

My lust wasn’t about pleasure. I was tempted to wield power.

I wanted to control her.

The minutes passed, and I drove my nails into the Bible’s leather cover like it was tender flesh. My impatience scarred the book. It had been a gift from Benjamin, and I should have read the words until the urge to see her passed.

I failed once more.

“I think you have this well in hand.” I stood and glanced over the group. “Excuse me for a few minutes. Keep the discussion going. I’ll be back to talk about what you think.”

The two trouble-makers, Alyssa and Samantha, crossed and re-crossed their legs. They offered me a glimpse of what was unshielded beneath.

Lust was a powerful tormentor…but these corruptible women did not interest me.

So why did Honor pain me with such desires? It was simple. She lived a life of virtue, honesty, and integrity. It made her sin all the more meaningful.

Irresistible.

I should have returned to my office. Or I should have left the church for the rectory and prayed.

But the heart wanted what the heart wanted. If only I listened to it and not what lechery hardened between my legs.