Bastien held the old man’s frail hand as a medic poked and prodded all the other parts of his body for wounds.
Dried fingerprints of blood caked Bastien’s hands, his gaze intent on the soul suffering before him.
Father Bastien tending his flock.
Just as he’d been called to do.
Pushing through the final set of doors, my focus crisp and clear after far too long, I walked on confident steps to the person who needed me most. Validation coursed through me in the form of a wave of satisfaction so profound, all I could do was glance back for one last stolen moment.
I watched him, kneeling and helping the wounded man at his feet, so very God-like from the inside out. The last thought to cross my mind was something he’d probably parroted to me at some point over our torrid last few months.
The best in life is only bought at the price of great pain.
Maybe this was our penance.
Our greatest pleasure had brought the greatest pain to those we loved most.
Heart shattering every step, I turned back, walking away from a life set aflame, resolution finally riding me harder than the longest of my many dark nights.
Lucy held a hand out to me as I approached the ambulance, our eyes locking when I climbed through the back doors, listening to them close before we turned out of the churchyard, a hard left over the curb, and then the next right, headed in the direction of the rest of our lives.
