16. Chapter 16
Kingsley
I did it. I crossed that one line I never thought I would. I can’t believe I did that.
These same thoughts played the entire night in my mind as I lay in the grass outside the guesthouse, the woman I wasn’t supposed to love—wasn’t supposed to have any feelings for at all —bundled up in my habit and asleep in my arms. How could something feel so good yet so wrong at the same time?
My dreams hadn’t even come remotely close to what Harley had done to me. How she’d made me feel.
I stared into the slowly dawning sky. The woods came alive with birdsong. We had to get up. Every minute we spent lying here together ramped up the risk of getting caught with the increasing daylight.
I’d give us two more minutes—and milk them for what they were. Savor Harley’s curves molded against me. Because this was the last time I got to hold her in my arms. We couldn’t repeat this.
Ever again.
I closed my eyes. Swallowed hard. “What did you do, Kingsley?”
Regina’s voice echoed in my head like I was eight years old again, when I’d broken one of her beloved paintings.
I didn’t remember what it had portrayed or the artist. Just the cold look she’d given me.
Her stern voice, then the weeks of being ignored.
If I’d learned one thing early on in life it was that love was conditional.
Make one mistake, and you’re cut off from the source that’s supposed to nurture you.
God wasn’t like that. In theory, I knew that. But in my heart?
“Harley.” I nudged her. “We have to get up.”
Her eyelids fluttered open. “What?”
“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 the cross 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.
He placed his hands on my shoulders and squeezed. “You feel it too, don’t you?”
Okay, this was getting uncomfortable. “Feel what?”
“This.” Matt leaned in—
I shoved him away from me with so much force that he stumbled back into the sink on the opposite wall. Even though his mouth hadn’t been anywhere near mine, I wiped it with the back of my hand. “What on earth, man?”
Matt’s eyes were wide, his chest heaving. “I-I thought t-that’s what you were going to say. That you feel about m-me the way I feel about you.”
“What? No! What makes you think I have a thing for you?” My mind raced, still trying to process what’d just happened.
“I don’t know, maybe because you always check on me? Because you took care of me when I was sick? Because you call me Matt when it’s just the two of us?”
What? What was he talking about? “I do that because you’re my best friend. You’re like a brother to me, Ma—Brother Matthew. Of course I look after you. That doesn’t mean I have feelings for you.”
Pain flashed in his dark eyes. He whipped around, turning his back to me. White-knuckled the porcelain sink. “Man, I’m such an idiot .” He ground out the last word through clenched teeth. “I don’t even like men. Not until you.”
I shook my head. “This doesn’t make you an idiot. Living like . . . Living like we do, cut off from the world and doing everything together, builds a strong bond. It can make things . . . confusing.” At least that’s what I guessed had happened here. Why else would Matt develop feelings for me?
I closed my eyes. What is going on, Lord?
Why can’t I just exist without ensnaring everyone?
First Giuliana, then Harley, now Matt? And what about that server last year?
I’d gone for lunch with my brothers, and the server had taken an interest in me, out of all four of us.
Keaton was literally a model. But no, it had to be me. Why always me?
“Are you going to tell the abbot?” Matt asked quietly.
I opened my eyes, finding him looking at me through the mirror. “No.”
He deflated. Turned back to me. “Thank you. Sorry I, um . . . tried to kiss you.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. I destroyed our friendship. Now things are awkward and—”
“Matt.”
My sharp tone shut him up.
“You didn’t destroy our friendship. I won’t treat you any differently than before. Under one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You tell me if I do something that somehow gives you the idea I have the hots for you.”
He gave me a wry smile. “Deal.”
The tension in my shoulders eased a little. I heaved a sigh. “We have to get going.”
“Yeah. Wait. What were you going to tell me?”
I’d totally forgotten about Harley and what we’d done. The heavy feeling of regret returned with a vengeance. “I slept with our guest.”
Matt’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He said nothing, but after the initial shock faded from his expression, disappointment took over. I knew he had been looking up to me since the first day he got here. I’d crushed the perfect illusion he had of me. Maybe not a bad thing.
“Let’s go.” I opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
After all this, how was I supposed to deliver a homily on the desires of the flesh during Midday Mass?