He waited for me inside the booth. I crossed myself by habit and sat on the bench instead of the kneeler.
Father Raphael waited, silent and overwhelming, as always.
His stillness waged war with my thoughts, and the quiet muffled my voice. I shivered, a good and wicked shiver, as if his touch still lingered on my body.
I’d missed his kiss.
“Hi.” I greeted him in a whisper, licking my lips though my mouth had gone dry. I breathed deep just to tease myself with his scent. “I got your message.”
“Honor.” His voice retained a seriousness. No smiles from my priest today. “I’m glad you came.”
So was I, but I doubted he meant it in the vulgar way my mind corrupted his words. I tucked my hand in my lap.
“I’m not sure what to say to you,” I said. “I didn’t know what to do with myself today.”
“Why?”
“After what happened last night…” I cleared my throat. “We needed to talk.”
“I agree.”
“Don’t get me wrong. Last night was something amazing.” I loathed the word, but why lie after committing other sins? “I got home, and I hadn’t slept that well in months.”
“Honor.”
I figured he’d be stern with me, but I knew what I had done and how terrible it was. I bowed my head. “I’ll guard myself better next time, Father.”
“Of course you will.” His words brimmed with praise, and I let them hum over me, delighting me in the electric tickles of his warmth. “I’ll hear your confession now.”
The warmth dissipated, and a cold shock nearly snapped my spine.
“What?”
Father Raphael didn’t apologize. “Your confession, Honor. Let me hear it, we’ll pray, and then we’ll begin again.”
“Are you…? Oh my God. You’re serious.”
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain.”
Like that was the problem now. “You want me to confess?”
“Sit, Honor,” he ordered. I ignored it. “This was my fault. I led you into that sin, and I encouraged the lust that controlled you. Once you confess, you’ll be forgiven, and we’ll work harder next time. I will protect you.”
Shame was a gut-punch, but this knocked me out. Nothing was more dehumanizing than apologizing for my desire.
Except him assuming I needed some sort of guardian.
“Do you really think you have to protect me?”
“Yes.”
“You think I can’t resist temptation on my own?”
He was silent. I gritted my teeth.
“Father, what happened last night was not a failure of my faith or spirit. It was a natural reaction of my body. I couldn’t have stopped it.”
“You asked for it, Honor.” I heard the curled edge of his words, whispered in a proud smirk.
“And you gave in. You didn’t stop. You helped me.”
“I am not your enemy.”
“I never said you were.”
“Why are you upset? I’m here to help you.”
Then why did he sound so…
Smug.
“Why do you want me to confess? Do you want to hear me beg for forgiveness like I begged to—”
I couldn’t say the word.
Father Raphael sighed. “Consider this your…second original sin. I will cleanse it, and you’ll learn from me how to combat these urges.”
“Because you fought them last night.”
“Yes.”
“And that wasn’t your kiss last night?” I hissed the words. “That wasn’t you hand-feeding me cake? Tasting me. Pleasuring me?”
“It was, yet I resisted the urge to take you.”
“You were ready too, Father. Ready and panting and just as desperate as me.”
“But I didn’t lose control.”
Again, that tone. A sanctimonious arrogance shadowed his words in a false halo of purity.
I knew what this was now. Why he invited me to the confessional. Why he twisted my words and prided himself when I failed to combat my desires.
“You think you’re stronger than me,” I said. “You think you’re better at this—like either of us have any idea what we’re doing together.”
“Honor—”
I heard the amusement that time. Father Raphael took pleasure in his game.
And it ended now.
I slid from the bench and burst from the confessional, but I didn’t leave the church. I aimed for the compartment where he waited for me. I yanked the door open.
“Strictly speaking…” Father Raphael gestured to his side of the confessional. “You aren’t supposed to be in here.”
“Then I’ll have to confess for that too, won’t I?”
The door slammed behind me, and I stared at this man in the dark and quiet. He placed his Bible on the bench beside him. His eyes flashed, and his brow furrowed. Stubble darkened his chin, the strength of his jaw.