My throat cracked.
Heart hammering, I planted both of my hands on the stone alongside Tressa’s head, requiring it and her to support me.
“Fuck, I never should have left.”
“Bastien, no, that’s not why I told you this.”
“Never. I was such a coward. I left so much open-ended.” I’d walked away from what was my true calling at that moment, blind to its very existence.
Regret ravaged me like a hungry demon, sending bile into my throat and adrenaline into my muscles.
“So many secrets.” I shook my head. “And the cardinal knew everything. He left me in the dark, transferred me out of his life, sweeping me under the damn rug just as he must have done all those years ago with Father Martin.”
“But that’s the thing. We don’t even know what happened with Father Martin. And the main person who could is gone and, really, wasn’t very trustworthy to begin with.” Tressa breathed, fingers at the muscles of my neck, working me down from the cliff.
I allowed her calm to seep into me, urging me back to the bed. “There isn’t anything we can do about any of it. I had to tell myself the one thing that mattered was that Luce and the baby were safe.”
“And you.” I cradled her head in my hands, sighing deeply as I considered all that’d come to pass between us.
“You know what it took for me to come here? To come to you?” She settled beside me, tucking herself into the crook of my arm. “It took me realizing that my life was of my own making. That even when I was in college and working for the head of the department and he was locking the door and pressing himself against me and threatening to take away my scholarship if I didn’t let him jerk off in front of me…” Her eyes sparked with fresh anger.
“I never understood why shitty things kept happening to me. One asshole I dated even told me girls with daddy issues fuck better. So that was it, I was just destined to attract the losers. And I let that professor play his mind games for months, thinking deep down, I must deserve it. That I wasn’t worth anything in my own right. I was surrounded by people reinforcing to me that my worst was my very best, so it was better to give up any dreams now.” She wiped a tear across her cheek.
“Sometimes the person you’d take the bullet for is the person behind the trigger, ya know? But then one day, it just clicked. I was a victim because I hadn’t set that horrible monster straight yet. Because I thought I deserved what he was doing. And finally, the night I stood up to him and leveled that first edition ofThe Alchemistat his head, that was the moment I decided no longer to see myself from the perspective of a victim, but a badass. I found my backbone. I came to terms with the slow unraveling of my life when I wasn’t looking. I’d been a passive participant, letting life happen to me for so long instead of making itmine. I’ll never do that again. It took me a minute, but I finally found myself. Now, I’ve made authenticity my rebellion.”
“You know, I went to seminary to find God. It took that experience for me to realize that God isn’t a voice so much as a feeling. So many people forget, or worse,don’t allowthemselves tofeelHim working in their lives already.”
An amused tone tickled her voice when she said, “Bastien. My wise saint. With—or without—the white collar.”
“My sweet dove, still a beautiful rebel.” I hummed into her hair. “You should get some rest, I’ve got plenty planned for you.”
I tucked Tressa into my arms, smiling as she drifted into a peaceful sleep, moonlight playing on her cheeks and lighting up my heart.
TWENTY-SIX
Bastien
“What was your first thought when you found out you were going back to Cuba?” She cradled the delicate bloom of a bougainvillea flower, nestling her nose in the fuchsia petals the following morning. I’d always loved the colorful vines that crept around this island paradise, but seeing her enjoy a piece of my homeland for the first time was enchanting, to say the least.
I’d grown accustomed to a life of holy consecrated solitude, but the breath of fresh air she constantly provided was more than invigorating.
“My feelings on my home are complicated. When I was young, I couldn’t wait to escape the suffocating smallness of it, but with time away…” I plucked one of the larger flowers on the vine and tucked it behind her ear, the color shocking against her almost-black hair. “I think the timing was finally right.”
I meant that sentiment on so many levels.
We continued down the road that edged the tobacco field, giant leaves growing a little more every day and encroaching on the narrow, red-dirt path.
“The true blessing has been getting to know the families who live here. Island life isn’t for everyone, but most find a way to make it work anyway. Some of the rural communities, well…the thinking may be a little more…antiquated.”
She bumped against my shoulder playfully. “Is this a veiled warning? What exactly are we about to walk into?”
“Well…Ms. Carmelita Martinez and family are a treat, her littlest Santiago is a riot, but the more I’ve gotten to know them, well, the more I’ve gotten to know Padre Juan.”
“Padre Juan?”
“He’s a retired priest from Santa Maria’s, and he’s probably the most unholy former holy man I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”
“Oh?” She arched an eyebrow with interest just as a warm breeze caught her dress, swirling the loose linen fabric around her thighs and teasing a glimpse of my promised land. “The good Padre sounds interesting.”
