“Morning, ladies!” The heavy wooden doors of St. Michael’s swung wide, Bastien’s smile open and almost blinding in its genuine amity.
“I swear,” Lucy whistled under her breath, “he looks even better today than he did yesterday.”
“Tell me about it.”
Lucy’s grin deepened, stroking her absent belly through the coat, and then taking Bastien’s arm when he’d reached the icy steps and offered.
Such a gentleman.
I would miss them both more than I could say.
I rubbed at my heart, the pain of their absence already cutting like a knife.
“Just in time for Mass.” Bastien’s touch at my elbow sent a chill skittering through me.
A pang split my heartbeat. The desire to brush him away was strong, the desire to soak up just one more touch so much stronger.
It was an odd feeling, orchestrating an exit while trying to leave someone none the wiser. I felt like a double agent, decades of Catholic guilt sweeping through my bones in an instant. Too ashamed to even glance into his friendly, penetrating gaze.
“I can’t wait for you to hear this morning’s liturgy.” His grin quirked to one side, my heartbeat leaping erratically along with it. “I think you’ll approve.”
“Yeah?”
I hardly heard his words, the tears clawing at my throat as if I’d just swallowed rusted nails.
If he were any kinder, I couldn’t stand it.
I’d have to stay.
I’d break down at his feet and beg him to…what?
Leave his God for me?
Bastien’s steps slowed, as if sensing my unease. His little finger caught mine, fireworks exploding through my veins when he leaned so close, his breath ghosted the shell of my ear. “Consider it my love letter.”
A near-audible moan slipped past my lips.
My lungs gave out as I willed the forces of the universe to halt everything right at that second and drop us into another world. A world where we could share each other, explore what existed without shame or guilt or fear of life-altering upheaval and utter disgrace.
If God was real and he was here, how the hell did he explain this?
“I’ll look forward to your thoughts.” The pad of his thumb brushed my lip, a tornado of ravaged emotion spiraling through my center, before I took another breath and he was gone.
My Bastien.
Father Castaneda.
The holy man I was fighting so hard to unlove, one and the same.
I lifted my head defiantly, pushing through the last set of doors before finding my place alongside Lucy in the last pew.
“I’m gonna need to know everything about whatever that was, mama.”
I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t have the heart to.
“It was goodbye.”
Her eyes grew wide, mouth opening and closing like a sad little fish as she contemplated my meaning.
