“I’m a good person, Father,” she said. “I try to be kind, even when others don’t deserve it.”
It shamed me to think that she questioned her virtues. “I know.”
“And I’m honest. Obviously. Or I never would’ve made the mistake of confessing to you.”
“It wasn’t a mistake, Honor.”
She didn’t believe me. “Yes, it was. I knew exactly what I was doing…what I hoped would happen by telling you those secrets.”
“And what was that?”
“This.” She extended her arms. “In some twisted part of my mind, I thought it’d get me here. With you. Talking to you. Touching you. Experiencing what we did.”
She didn’t say if it was a pleasure or a sin. Did she even know?
Did I?
“I’ve never done anything like this before,” she said. “Never. I’ve followed the commandments. I’ve respected people in and out of the church. I’ve never deliberately sinned.”
“I know.”
“So what is it then? Is it bad luck or a challenge to my soul? Am I encouraging this lust? Or are you doing it to me?”
The harsh edge in her voice returned. I didn’t like it, not only because she doubted me as a priest…
But because she blamed me as a man.
One who would never harm her.
One barely containing himself through prayer, the rosaries twisted in his hand.
I’d never lacked willpower. I’d never surrendered to desires—no matter how dark, seductive, or necessary.
Until her.
And I could ask her the same questions. Did she bait me? What did she challenge in me? How much longer could I hide my demons? I was already ruined by the nightmares of my past, but I could still save her.
“We are both sinners,” I said. “It’s natural. It’s human.”
She didn’t believe me. “Is it? You seem to have control over your sins.”
“Why do you question my faith?”
“Because it isn’t faith that guides you, Father Rafe,” she said. “It’s pride.”
The allegation stung. I gritted my teeth. “Pride is a sin.”
“So is most of what we do together.”
Honor turned away from me, pacing in the small room. I memorized each of her steps. She wasn’t supposed to be in my home, and yet now I could imagine her within my living room, my kitchen.
If only I could picture her in my bedroom.
“I trusted you, Father,” Honor said. “I knew it was wrong for us to meet so often. I shouldn’t have gotten so close.”
“I meant to help you. I wanted you to control your desires.”
“My feelings aren’t something that can be controlled, no matter how strong you think you are because you denied yourself today.” She breathed deep. “This has to end now. I’m done. I won’t let it happen again.”
She lashed me with truth, and the pain burrowed too deep, too fierce. I shook my head.
“I don’t want to lose you,” I said. “What we feel is not weakness. Having you here gives me strength. It reaffirms my faith.”
“And it hurts me.”
“I never meant to cause you pain.”
“Then you are naïve,” she said. “How can you not see it?”
“See what?”
“You!” Her voice rose. “You’re this powerful and amazing man, and you call me angel. You tell me I’m beautiful. That is worse than any physical tease, Father.”
“You deserve the compliments.”
“It doesn’t work like that. When you speak to me…” Her words broke. “You know nothing can come from the words we say or the things we do. It’s like you want me to destroy myself.”
“Never.”
She pointed to the kitchen in a mix of anger, confusion, and pain. “And then…you give me such pleasure. I’ve never felt that way before. It was beautiful and amazing, and now it’s ugly. Sullied and dark.” She sighed. “I’m afraid to look in the mirror. I don’t know if I’ll see a confident, sensual woman…or some sort of demoness, tempting a man of God.”
“No.” My voice hardened. “No. You are pure and innocent. I wanted to protect that.”
“By making me feel horrible?”
“By making you feel cherished. Strengthened. I would never willingly lead you astray.”
“Surprise.”
“Honor, I consider myself a patient man,” I said. “I struggle to maintain that integrity. It’s a virtue that I prize.”
“One of your many.”
Her bitterness hurt us both. I exhaled, soothing the rising hackles that might have roused me to anger. But I wouldn’t have directed that rage at my angel.