Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Sandy and her husband head to a nearby pew, ready for the service to begin, and I’m left standing there, gawking at the priest.
“We need to talk after the service,” he says to me in a low tone, his voice carrying a sense of urgency, before making his way to the altar.
I nod, my heart pounding in my chest, and find a seat beside Sandy. My nerves coil in my stomach like a nest of restless serpents, anticipation and apprehension warring within me as I wait for the service to start.
As Benedict begins the service, the rustle of the congregation settles into a hushed silence, hanging on his every word. He stands tall at the altar, his presence commanding attention, his demeanor unwavering.
His sermon delves into the topic of temptation, his voice resonating through the church like a solemn warning. With each word, I can't help but feel like he's speaking directly about us, a reminder of the forbidden boundaries we must not cross again.
I steal a glance at him, catching the intensity in his gaze as he speaks, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. It's a sobering reminder of the consequences of our actions, of the fragile line we tread between duty and desire.
Why do I have to be attracted to him? Out of all the men in the world, why a priest? It's like a cruel joke fate has played on me, as if my life couldn't get any more complicated.
I try to push down the feelings of desire bubbling up within me as he commands attention from the congregation. It's a struggle to keep my focus on anything other than him. His presence is magnetic, his charisma undeniable. Every word he speaks seems to weave a spell, drawing me in despite my best efforts to resist.
He's so good-looking it's almost unfair. I steal glances at him, unable to tear my eyes away for long before I'm drawn back to his captivating presence. It's a dangerous game, flirting with temptation, but in this moment, I'm ready to surrender to him completely, to beg him to break every vow he's ever taken in his life.
“He’s so handsome,” Sandy says, leaning closer to me, her voice barely above a whisper, as if sharing a secret.
I turn my head, catching her eyes with mine. “I hadn’t noticed,” I say, hoping she can't detect the lie in my words.
She laughs lightly, a knowing glint in her eyes. “You'd have to be blind not to notice.”
I shrug nonchalantly, trying to mask the turmoil swirling inside me. “He may be gorgeous, but it’s a shame he’s a priest because he’s off the market.”
Sandy nods in agreement, her expression sympathetic. “Trust me, I know. You and him would look so cute together.”
My eyes widen at her words, and I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks. “Sandy,” I say, my voice tinged with embarrassment. “That will obviously never happen.”
Sandy shrugs, undeterred. “Never say never.”
Yet, as I stare at the priest behind the altar, delivering his sermon with conviction, I'm certain I can say never in this situation. Father Carmichael and I will never be anything more than what we are now.
Which is nothing.
I need to remember that.
After the service is over, Father Carmichael ushers me into his office, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” he says, his tone professional yet warm as he takes a seat behind his desk. He gestures for me to take a seat, and I do.
“Of course,” I say softly, my voice barely audible, the weight of our shared indiscretion hanging heavy between us.
“I wanted to first apologize for the other night. I should have never—” Father Carmichael begins, his voice tinged with regret.
I cut in, the words tumbling out in a rush. “No, I’m so sorry. I should have known better. The worst thing I could ever do is make you break your vow.” Guilt washes over me like a wave, and I hope he can't see the turmoil churning within me. “I’m so sorry.”
He holds out his hand, stopping me from apologizing further. “No, I’m sorry, and it will never happen again. I think I was caught up in the moment, or maybe the lifestyle. Honestly, I’m not sure what it was, but you shouldn’t be taken advantage of like that. I’m supposed to be somebody you can trust.”
“I do trust you, Father,” I say, the word feeling strange on my tongue. “Benedict,” I whisper, feeling equally as odd calling him by his first name.
His eyes darken when I say his first name, and he clears his throat, a flicker of discomfort crossing his features. “Call me Father, please,” he says, his voice firm but gentle, a reminder of the boundaries we must maintain.
“Father,” I whisper. “Is that all you needed?” I ask him, wanting out of this room before I explode in front of him, begging him to take me right on his desk.