Bishop Sanchez looked at me thoughtfully. “What about your vow of celibacy?”
I thought this would come up and I answered without hesitation. Although, my forehead and neck were damp with nervous perspiration. “All the time I wore my clerical collar and considered myself a priest, my sins were only those of thought, which I’ve already confessed.”
“And since then, Father Jude?” he asked, his tone abrasive again. “Since you are an ordained priest until you are laicized, your attempt at excuses means nothing.”
I braced myself for another round of condemnation. “I had physical contact with a man.”
The bishop pressed me. “Is he the one who originally sought your help in the confessional?”
My whole being burned with embarrassment. Not for my actions with Ethan, but for having to discuss them with my bishop. “Yes, he is, Your Excellency.”
“You said in your petition that you’ve thought—and prayed—about leaving for the last three years. What made you finally feel that you couldn’t struggle any longer? Was it having feelings for a man?”
I wrung my hands out of his sight. Even so, he must’ve read my uneasy body language in the way I couldn’t seem to sit still. “Not entirely,” I said hesitantly, testing the waters for myself to see if they held truth. And they did. “When I met the man, I began seeing him as a representation of what my future could look like.”
“Do you have feelings for this man?”
“Friendship, Your Excellency.”
The bishop steepled his fingers, elbows on the arms of the chair. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. After a few minutes, he pulled back the fabric partition that separated us in the confessional. “Father Jude, you’ve been transparent, and I appreciate that. As for Father Matthew, I agree with your take on what God would say,” he said with a hint of a smile. Immediately serious again, he chastised, “Breaking your promise as the head of a parish and your vow of celibacy are major transgressions. I’d like you to consider returning to the ministry for six months of solitude in penance and prayer. Even so, you will never be allowed to lead a congregation again.”
“Your Excellency, I won’t return again. My goal in seeing you was first and foremost to apologize for not speaking to you directly instead of taking off. Secondly, I was hoping that you would have a change of mind regarding my laicization. I’d like to put closure to this era of my life and I can’t believe that God would want me to spend months doing nothing but punishing myself when in my heart, I’m trying to live my truth.”
The bishop looked like his ire was rising again so I tried to beat him to it. “With all due respect, Your Excellency, we’ve come to an impasse. Thank you for your time.” I genuflected and kissed his ring. Then I turned and left him sitting, a bit stunned.
Once outside, I jogged down the block to be away from his prying eyes and sent a text to Ethan telling him where to pick me up. Being on a one-way street, he flashed his lights, and I went to him not even half a block away.
I dove into his truck crying, face hidden in my hands. I was just so damn frustrated. This was the first time that I’d followed my heart by walking away from the Church and I didn’t feel anything other miserable and fucked up. How could I have walked away from the only life I’ve known, leaving nothing in my wake but bad feelings and an uncertain future ahead?
Ethan was right. I couldn’t depend on him saving me. Maybe I should go back home until I made plans. My mother would be horribly difficult to put up with but she’d be at work during the day and when she was home, my dad would be somewhat of a buffer if not tough enough to guard me totally against her venom.
Ethan reached over the console and wiped the teardrops from under my eyes with the pad of his thumb. Only then did I realize that we hadn’t moved from where he’d parked. He pressed the palm of his hand to my cheek, thumb rubbing over my bottom lip.
We stayed like that for a few minutes and then raising my face to his, he said, “Are you ready to go back to my place?”
I met his gaze with watery eyes. “I didn’t mean for you to have this burden,” I croaked.
Brushing my damp hair from my forehead, he asked. “What burden are you talking about?”
“Me,” I said simply.
“Babbo, you’re not. I promise.”
I left the warmth of his embrace and sat up. “But isn’t the dominant supposed to be the caretaker? The stronger one?”
Ethan smiled patiently as he started the engine. “Being a submissive doesn’t equate with weakness. Just like being a dominant doesn’t mean that you can’t have times of uncertainty and need support from someone who cares.”
“You do care, don’t you?” I didn’t tell him that his eyes were like liquid pools of emotion in which I saw his caring. No matter what his mood, his green eyes seemed to have a hundred variations of hues. At that moment, the edges of his irises were a soft green, like the leaves of daylilies.
“Yes,Babbo, now what do you want for supper? You have to eat something, and I’m starved. Having had lunch so early, my body is begging for nutrition.”
Not wanting anything spicy like Mexican food, I thought for a moment. I needed comfort food. “Have you ever had the homemade chicken noodle soup at Beach City Deli & BBQ?”
“Nah, I haven’t.”
“I usually get a Reuben.” I chuckled through my tear-stained face as my mouth watered.
“I’ve never been but it’s on Clark Avenue, right?”
