“Tempting?”
I didn’t answer. It wasn’t the mark I wished to leave on such a pure soul.
She bit her lip. “Do you have to go? Is there…anything we can do?”
Such an innocent angel.
“I’m leaving. It’s not a curse. It’s a blessing. We should be grateful for this.”
“Why?”
“Because we don’t belong together.” I said it, and it hurt. “I am not the right man for you. For anyone. It was wrong of me to get involved with you.”
“Even if it helped us? Even if we…” She looked away. “Healed each other?”
“Still a sin, Honor. And it’s made worse in how I feel for you.”
Her eyes widened, that same almond-shaped surprise as the first time I touched her. “What do you feel, Father?”
That I wished she would call me Rafe.
And that was reason enough for me to leave.
“We are in a dangerous place, my angel. What we feel is more damning that the temptation to…” I shouldn’t have looked at her, watched the quiver of her lip, met the innocent, fawn-brown of her eyes. “What we feel for each other is more profound than a single night of inhibition. We can confess our sins, but we can’t pray to stop our hearts from beating.”
“Do you think it’s fair?”
“I think it’s wise that we’re separated.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
That was the only answer I could give her. I stared at the altar, the flickering red candle which signified the divine spirit in the monstrance. It once gave me comfort. A reason. A way to live.
But now, it felt like my orders took something from me.
“Do you believe in God, Honor?” I asked.
She didn’t like the question. “Yes.” Her voice shifted. “No.”
“No?”
“I don’t want to believe anymore.”
That broke my heart. “Why?”
“Because then…it’d be easier to want you. I wouldn’t be breaking a covenant with God. I could be free to…” She bit her lip. “Be selfish. To sin without fear of reprimand for feelings I can’t deny. I don’t even know if I should deny them.” She hesitated. “If you didn’t believe, you wouldn’t fear the sins either.”
“The sins are my own, Honor.”
“Not these.”
“Yes, they are. They are the sweetest sins. And I wouldn’t purge them away for a clean soul or untouched skin. I will keep this burden, my angel. You are the reason that I am healed, and that darkness was cast away.”
“Then why can’t we be—”
I interrupted her before she said anything foolish. “You healed me, but I don’t deserve you.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“You gifted me your virtue, and your touch has meant more to me than any blessing I’ve ever received. Because of you, I understand passion now. I see why it should be protected and sanctified. Why it should be a covenant, a sacrament. That…connection is too precious to give to anyone.”
“You aren’t just anyone, Father.”
“Not anymore.”
“That’s not true.”
She was getting upset. So was I, but I could hide the pain. I’d pray it away. I’d run laps around my block or beat the punching bag in the rectory basement to relieve that strain.
“What happened between us wasn’t a mistake, Father,” she said. “It wasn’t a lapse in judgment or a failure of temptation. It was real. What I feel is real.”
“And it’s best you forget it.”
“How can I?”
I exhaled. “The same way I will. Time. Separation.”
“And if I want to see you again?”
My chest ached. “Don’t try, Honor.”
She stood, kicking away from the pew. I didn’t try to comfort her.
“I’ll leave the parish,” I said. “And you can go on with your life. We have our own paths, and they diverge here. It will protect us both.”
“From what? From our hearts?”
“From each other.”
She shook her head, the curls falling before her beautiful face. I wished she would have tucked them behind her ear. I feared this would be the last time I’d see her this close, this raw, without pretense or shelter.
I’d have brushed her hair myself, but I didn’t trust where my hand would linger.
“I’m not afraid of what I feel,” she said. “I just wish—”
“Don’t wish,” I said. “We’ve already taken too much.”
“So that’s it? We just…forget what we had? Ignore everything we’ve discovered?”