Sweetest Sin(82)

“I wanted to help you that night. That’s what Ben taught me to do. Help others. Care for them. Show them the kindness the world hadn’t shown me. He would have wanted me to comfort you rather than mourn him.”

“Did he know…what happened between us?”

“No.” The pain struck too close. “We ran out of time.”

The lie hurt. More than the mournful realization of his death. More than any of the times I’d visited in the hospice and watched him waste away.

Ten days had passed since he died, and my heart hadn’t healed. I couldn’t even speak his name without suffering the hollowness in my chest. I knew why.

I deceived myself and dishonored his memory.

“That’s not true.” I bowed my head. “I told myself—again and again—that I would confess to him. I had the opportunities, and he realized something weighed on me. I could have confessed...I didn’t.”

“Why?”

The words choked. I forced them out.

“I didn’t want him to see what I’d become.”

Honor leaned close. Her sweet voice comforted and quieted the shame that welled within me.

“Father Rafe…you are not a monster. You haven’t hurt me.” Her words gentled. She drew the pain from me as if she pulled poison from a bite. “But someone hurt you.”

I stayed silent, content to let the dark quiet suffocate me. It was better than admitting the truth.

Better than suffering from those memories.

Better than becoming what I feared.

Honor sighed, mourning me instead of the dead. “What happened to you? Something hurt you. Something changed you. Please let me in.”

“What if you don’t like what you find?”

“And what if I can help you?”

She couldn’t. No one could. Nothing helped. Not prayer or fasting, blessings or ordinations, a busy life in the church or all the responsibilities and souls that came with it.

The only way to survive was to hide it. I knocked her hand away. It offended her, and her pain hurt me more than I realized.

Honor’s voice was a whisper. “You fear intimacy.”

Close. So close.

The words sickened me. “No. I fear more abuse.”

It had been fifteen years since I’d admitted what happened to me. Only one man knew besides God, and it took two years after Benjamin adopted me in before I could reveal it to him. I said it once, and then I never spoke of it again.

Maybe I should have confronted it, but Benjamin gave me a new life of safety, comfort, and love. Why would I have reopened my wounds after they finally stopped bleeding?

But I hadn’t healed. I scarred. The cuts were too deep, and every nerve was still exposed.

Benjamin was gone.

The memories returned.

And I couldn’t fight both my desires and my past.

I don’t know why I spoke, but I wrenched the truth from my soul.

“My father hurt me,” I said. “It started when I was young and ended the day I ran away.”

Honor held her breath, like she feared to make a sound in case it’d silence me. But the filth rose to the surface now. I couldn’t hide it. I couldn’t avoid it.

“Emotional abuse. Physical. Sexual.” I shuddered. “My father was as cruel as he was perverted. My brothers and sisters suffered too, but not as badly as I did. One night, I didn’t know if he wanted to beat me or just…” I couldn’t say the word. “He did both. It wasn’t the first time, but it was the worst. I thought he was going to kill me. I hoped he would.”

“Rafe…”

“That was the night I knew I had to get away. I couldn’t let him do those things to me. I couldn’t stay and hope to be saved. I didn’t wait for my bones to heal or the bruises to fade. As soon as I could roll out of my bed, I escaped.” I gritted my teeth. “And I never looked back.”

Honor dropped from the coffee table to kneel at my feet. She took my hands, squeezing and warming them. It was all she could do, and it was all I needed, but I shook her away.

“The church welcomed me. Ben helped me…recover. I wasn’t a healthy teenager. I suffered. I self-harmed. I had…very destructive behaviors. He took me in at thirteen, knowing I was lost, and he saved me. The church saved me. Here, I felt what real love was. I joined the communities and experienced a real family. It was a blessing. I studied to become a priest because…it was the only good thing I ever saw in life. I wanted to help others. I wanted to show them the safety and kindness I found in the church.”

I could have stopped then. Honor was satisfied and my soul unburdened. But it wasn’t enough to admit my sins. If I wanted the pain to stop, I had to examine why. The cause of the sin, not just the action.