“That’s the thing…” I whisper, raising my chin. “I don’t really have anything to talk about. I thought I did, but I don’t.”
“How could you think that and then change your mind?” He tuts. “What sin did you commit?”
“I didn’t?—”
“You know only I can absolve you,” he continues, ignoring me, “but I need to know what you did for the proper course of action.”
“Like w-w-what?” I stammer.
“Penance. Prayers,” he replies, sighing. “I must know, Elijah. Confess.”
“I—” I shake my head again. “I had an unwelcome dream,” I lie.
Father Jacob hums, seemingly pleased with my answer. “And what happened in this dream?”
“I laid with a woman.” My voice trembles, and he clears his throat. “I didn’t mean to. It happened on its own.”
“I know,” he replies, “You can’t control what happens with your mind as you sleep.”
“So I don’t need to repent?” I ask with confusion.
“Oh, you do.” Father Jacob sighs long and loud. “I fear it’s worse than I thought. If you’re dreaming this, you must want it fiercely. It’s in your subconscious. Tell me, Elijah, have you been thinking of this a lot?”
“No.” I shake my head quickly, but even I hear the panic in my voice, the lie. “Absolutely not.”
“You can tell me,” he replies slowly. “If something deeper, somethingunholy, is going on…you can confess.”
“There’s not,” I reiterate.
I almost swear it, but then I realize that would make the lie even worse. I’d surely go to hell at that point. Not that I don’t think I won’t. I’m absolutely damned after everything I’ve done with Azriel.
“Very well.” Father Jacob sighs, and I can’t tell if he believes me or not. “Two days of fasting should fix you right up and Praying the Rosary five times per day for the next week.”
I gulp. “Yes, Father.”
Father Jacob begins to pray over me softly, and tears sting my eyes, then suddenly trail down my cheeks. How did I get here? This can’t be my life. This isn’t me. I’m not the one punished for sinning. I would never admit to something like that. No, I’d punish myself in silence. So when did it become too much for me to bear alone?
“May almighty God have mercy on you and forgive your sins, then lead you to eternal life,” Father Jacob says when he finishes his prayer. “Go in peace.”
“Thanks be to God,” I whisper, then all but run out of the confession booth.
I spend the next few hours in the library, studying the bible in silence and filling my journal with prayers about purity and doing the right thing. I skipped dinner as ordered by Father Jacob, and though my stomach is growling, I ignore the pain. I’ve done it before and will undoubtedly do it many more times. I swear, I always feel guilty about something.
Grabbing my bible and journal, I make my way past the rows of shelves and stop in my tracks when I see Gemma. She’s staring at me intently as well and raises an eyebrow. Before I can run away, she blocks my path and crosses her arms over her chest. I swallow hard, trying to calm the erratic beating of my heart, but I think it’s impossible. I feel lightheaded.
“I know what you’ve done,” she whispers, and I stiffen. “I know you’re a sinner just like me.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Azriel visits you, doesn’t he?” Gemma asks, looking around to make sure no one is listening, but there’s no one else here anyway. Just us. “You can tell me.”
“I don’t know who that is.” I raise my shoulders nonchalantly. “Excuse me.”
I try to walk past her, looking forward and attempting to ignore her, but she blocks me yet again. I huff in annoyance, then remind myself I’m a man of God and we don’t act like this.
“I know.” She grins. “You don’t have to admit it—I see it on your face. You’re glowing, Elijah. I know you’ve been touched by sin.”
Oh, God.
