“It’s time for Vigils.” The words tasted bitter. I was about to step into the cathedral, pretending I hadn’t committed a filthy sin last night.
Holy mother of— I had to deliver a homily today on the desires of the flesh, particularly sexual immorality. How had I forgotten about that? I had to stand in front of the congregation and preach to them about not giving into the desire of the flesh, all while I’d done exactly that last night. Like the biggest hypocrite.
One hand planted on my chest, Harley pushed up. Her red mane was wild, the smell and feel of it burned into my memory. “How is it morning already? I must’ve slept like the dead.” She yawned. “Oh, you probably want your habit back.”
She sat up, wriggling out of it. I had to look away because my body was already heating up at the mere sight of her bare back in the dim light. She passed it to me, and I quickly donned it. Thank God she had her T-shirt and shorts on by the time I had tied the belt around my waist. The rosary gave me pause.God, what did I do?
I instantly shut down the rising emotions. Would deal with them later. Now I just wanted one last kiss from Harley. A goodbye kiss.
My hand trembled when I placed it at the small of her back and pulled her against me. The little gasp she emitted was silenced when I claimed her mouth with mine. I poured all my pain and longing into it, telling her how I felt about her without using words. When I broke away, we were both breathing hard, her lips swollen.
“Do you mind walking back alone?” I asked. “I need to take a shower.”
“Of course.” She rose on her tiptoes, planted a kiss on my cheek, then turned and headed for the guesthouse.
As I walked through the woods to the main building, I allowed the reality I’d stuffed down all night to sink in. I had broken my vow. I had broken my celibacy. I had failed me. I had failed Harley.
Worst of all, I had failed God.
I made it to the restroom just in time before the contents of my stomach rose up and I lost them into the toilet. I’d thrown up a lot as a kid when I’d done something wrong, but this was different. It wasn’t just a misstep. This couldn’t be undone.
When I straightened, I caught my reflection in the mirror. My beard was in desperate need of a trim, my hair wild like I’d gripped it. Except I hadn’t. Harley had.
I dropped my gaze, too disgusted with myself to look at the poor excuse of a man. Who was this guy who preferred the delight of a woman over Christ’s? Who threw away nine years of hard devotion just for a roll in the hay? No, it had been more than that. I loved Harley. But that didn’t justify my actions.
I asked myself these very questions over and over as I stood under the cold spray of the shower. What was wrong with me? Tears came. Hard.Lord, I did the unforgivable. You died on thecross for me, gave Your life to save mine. And what do I do? Mock You. Spit in Your face.
An invisible weight pressed down on me, and I sank to my knees. I hung my head, water running into my eyes and mixing with my tears. A half groan, half sob broke out of me.Please forgive me, Lord. I . . . I don’t know what has gotten into me. Why I did that.
An emptiness like I’d never felt before seeped into my soul—the knowledge that I’d irreversibly broken something in my relationship with my Savior. What we had would never again be the same.
I lamented a while longer, then got up and turned off the water. If I’d expected that a shower would make me feel . . . cleaner, I’d been dead wrong. I once again looked in the mirror, bloodshot eyes staring back at me. Vigils was about to start. I had to man up and face the day. And my fellow brothers. Father Cruz. Harley.
God.
I had just finished brushing my teeth when a knock came at the door. I opened it, finding Matt standing there.
He took me in. “What happened?”
“I need to tell you something,” I said without thinking.
“I need to tell you something, too. In private.”
We headed back into the restroom, and I closed the door. When I turned to Matt, he was tugging at his habit—something he usually did when he was nervous.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
He looked at the ceiling. Tugged some more at his habit. “I have a feeling we want to say the same thing. I just don’t know how.”
His words hit me like a throat punch. “Did you—” I choked on my own words. “Did you see us?”
“Huh?” Matt’s brows drew together. “See who?”
“You didn’t see . . .” My heartbeat slowed. “Wait, what is this about?”
He looked at me for the longest moment. Only about a foot separated us, and the longer he stared at me, the more I felt cornered. If not for the door in my back, I would’ve put some distance between us. Matt was the kind of person who didn’t notice when he stepped into someone’s intimate space, and I’d gotten used to it over the years. But this was weird, even for him.
“What is it, Matt?” I asked.
