Page 41 of Laced in Longing

“Not at all,” he says with a quick shake of his head. “I believe you’re experiencing something very real to you. But sometimes, what we perceive as external forces are manifestations of internal conflicts. The mind is powerful, especially when dealing with unresolved trauma or desires.”

Great. Even the priest thinks I’m batshit. This is exactly why I haven’t told Dr. Voss—I fear her reaction would be far worse and more physical.

A wave of something heavy sinks through me. I should have known better than to come here and expose my brokenness to a person who can’t possibly understand.

“I’m not imagining him,” I insist, heat rising to my cheeks. “He’s real. He’s standing right over there, watching us right now.” Ash’s face covering tilts, though he makes no attempt to come closer. He could at least do the decent thing and show himself to the poor man listening to me…I’m making a fucking fool of myself.

Father Laurent follows my pointing finger, his gaze sweeping the space where Ash stands. For a moment, my hope rises as something flickers across his expression; it’s quickly extinguished when he faces me once more, clearly deciding the space is free of ghosts and gods.

“I believe you’re experiencing something,” he says with a small smile. “Whether it’s a spirit or something else, I cannot say with certainty. But if you’re seeking to be free of this presence, there may be a simple solution.”

Excitement wars with disappointment in my brain, both bright and painful. “What is it?”

“Will it away.” The man shrugs before sweeping a hand out. “Command it to leave you.”

My spirit deflates once more. “I’ve tried that. I told him to go, but he keeps coming back.”

Father Laurent shakes his head. “There’s a difference between saying the words and truly meaning them. Spirits—if that’s what this is—exist in a different plane from ours. They cannot fully manifest in our world without an anchor, a connection to something or someone here.”

I ponder his words, considering their meaning. “You’re saying he’s attached to me?” My voice sounds small, even to my own ears.

“If what you describe is true, then yes. This entity has formed a connection to your soul. When you tell it to leave, you must mean it completely. Every part of you must reject its presence, or it will find the opening—the part of you that still welcomes it, however unconsciously—and return.”

My stomach twists and flips several times. Every part of me must reject him. But how can I, when some traitorous corner of my soul lights up at his presence? When I’ve started looking forward to his visits, and the strange peace I feel when he’s near?

When the thought of being truly alone again makes me feel hollow in an unfathomable way?

“What if I can’t?” I whisper, the question slipping out before I can stop it.

Father Laurent studies me, his gaze penetrating and confident even as I squirm under the attention. “Then perhaps you should ask yourself why. Why would you wish to keep something that disturbs you enough to seek help?”

The question simmers between us, unanswerable. Because I don’t know. I don’t understand why part of me clings to Ash’s presence even as another part runs from it. Why his words about belonging elsewhere resonate in places I didn’t know existed within me. And forget about explaining why the thought of saying goodbye forever feels like losing something I never knew I had.

“I should go,” I mumble, shooting to my feet. “Thank you for your time.”

Father Laurent rises as well, concern etched across his features. “Wait. I didn’t mean to upset you. If you’d like, we could try a blessing, or⁠—”

“No,” I cut him off, already backing away. “It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.”

I turn and hurry for the main doors, my face burning with emotions I can’t name. Shame, maybe. Confusion, for sure. Sadness…definitely.

The priest called Ash an it. A thing. Father Laurent’s description sliced me harder than this entire situation. Because he’s more than that, isn’t he? And he has a name.

I push through the heavy doors and suck in a deep, freezing breath; the icy air is a welcome shock against my heated skin. The steps stretch before me, leading down to the path that will take me back to the city, but I pause.

“Did you hear all that?” I ask without turning around.

“Yes.” His voice comes from directly behind me, deep and clear. Close enough that if he were human, I’d feel his breath against my hair.

“And?” I prompt when he doesn’t continue.

“The priest is not entirely wrong,” Ash confirms after a moment. “I cannot remain in your perception without your permission—without some part of you that welcomes my presence.”

My chest tightens, ribs squeezing my lungs until each breath becomes a conscious effort. “So if I truly wanted you gone, you’d have to leave? For good?” A shiver skates through my body as a whisper of something grazes the exposed part of my neck.

“Yes.” The single word carries a weight of sadness that makes my throat ache in response. “If every part of you rejected me, I would be forced to wait until your next life to try again.”

I whirl on him, blood boiling in my veins. “And you’d do that? Just keep following me through life after life, waiting for me to say yes? Never considering that maybe, just maybe, there’s a reason I keep saying no?” A couple halts their descent from the building, eyes wide. I pay them no mind. Why should I care about what they think of me any longer? Their steps scurry past me, both avoiding my gaze before they’re out of sight.