25. Chapter 24
Chapter 24
Eden
R eaching my arms out in a large stretch, I feel around for Roman, my fingers meeting only the cool, empty space next to me. Confused, I pry open my eyes, wincing at the soreness that radiates through my body. Last night’s passion has left its mark, every muscle aching, my core throbbing as if it had been ripped apart and sewn back together.
I reach for my phone, still off from the night before, knowing that the countless messages from my brother and Zoey are waiting in my inbox. The early morning light filters through the room, painting the space in soft hues that remind me of the stained-glass windows in the church, the ones that catch the sun just right.
Sliding off Roman’s bed, I wince slightly as my feet hit the floor, the soreness making every movement clumsy and torturous. I rummage through his drawer, finding one of his larger tees, the fabric soft and comforting against my skin as I slip it on. The familiar scent of him clings to the cotton, a mix of sandalwood and something darker that sends a shiver down my spine.
Nudging open the bathroom door, the remnants of his recent shower linger in the air, steam clings to the mirror like a memory. I wipe away the condensation with the back of my hand, my reflection coming into focus—disheveled, raw, my makeup smudged from the night’s intensity. My eyes trace the faint bite marks along my neck and the way my hair falls in tangled waves over my shoulders. I look like a woman who’s been thoroughly claimed, a thought that sends a flush of heat through me.
Peering down, I notice a new toothbrush resting on the counter, along with a bottle of face wash that I know costs more than two of my paychecks combined. Next to them, a note catches my eye. I pick it up, a smile tugging at my lips as I read the familiar scrawl.
Don’t rush. You had a long night.
—R
“Oh, Roman,” I murmur to myself, the smile growing wider despite the ache in my heart.
Don’t make me fall for your good side too.
But as I stand there, wrapped in his shirt, surrounded by the scent and feel of him, I can’t help but feel that something has shifted. What we shared last night—it wasn’t just physical. It was a turning point, a moment where everything changed. And as much as I want to deny it, to push it away, I know that the line between us has blurred in ways that can’t be undone.
With a deep breath, I turn to the sink, the cool water splashing onto my face, washing away the remnants of last night’s makeup and some of the lingering doubts. But as I look up at my reflection again, I realize that what’s left behind is something new—a woman who’s seen another side of herself, of Roman, and who’s not entirely sure what to do with that knowledge.
After washing my face and feeling somewhat more like myself, I step into the hallway, the rich smell of bacon drifting through the air. I take my time, pausing to study the few photos Roman has on the wall. My fingers brush lightly over a picture of him with his unit in the army—his face rugged, dusted with stubble and dirt. He’s grinning widely, arms slung around the necks of his fellow soldiers, all of them beaming with a camaraderie that’s palpable even through the photograph.
I move to the next photo, a stark contrast to the first. It’s less exuberant, more tender. A beautiful woman with short hair covered by a pink bandana holds the hands of a young boy with jet-black hair, helping him walk. They’re both laughing, a peacefulness in their expressions that suggests the moment is something that should be cherished.
I gently take the picture from the wall, unable to tear my eyes away as I make my way into the kitchen.
Roman stands at the stove, shirtless, his broad back facing me. A large mug of coffee sits on the counter, and the table is set for two, with a spread of breakfast items hot and ready. I can’t help but notice the faint marks my nails left on his skin, a reminder of the intensity of the night before .
"Morning, Angel," He says with a warm smile, turning to face me. His gaze immediately drops to the frame in my hand.
"I—I'm sorry, I just loved the picture—" I begin, feeling a bit sheepish.
"She was a bright soul," He interrupts, turning off the stove before leaning against the counter. "You would have never known she had cancer."
"This is—" I start again, but he finishes the thought for me.
"My mom," He says softly, walking over to me.
He takes the frame from my hands, his fingers lingering over the image, especially on her bright, radiant smile. "She beat cancer more than once. I was always convinced my father's abuse is what kept her from overcoming it a third time," he sighs, his eyebrows furrowing as he gets lost in the memory.
"That’s you?" I ask, tracing the image of the young boy in the photo with my finger.
"Surprised I was so cute?" He teases, placing the frame down on the counter.
Wrapping his arms around my waist, he pulls me close. I loop my arms around his neck, leaning into the warmth of his body. His lips brush lightly against mine in a tender kiss, soft and gentle, filled with a kind of sweetness that feels new between us.
"Do you miss her?" I ask, resting my forehead against his.
"All the time," He admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's why I chose to believe there was a Heaven to begin with and swore my life to find a way to meet her there one day." There’s a vulnerability in his words, a glimpse into the heart of Roman Briar that I hadn’t fully seen before .
"And how are you feeling, by the way?" He asks, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, shifting the mood.
The change is almost tangible, and I can’t help but smile back, knowing exactly what he’s referring to.
"Like we got in a fight rather than fucked," I admit, feeling the soreness in every muscle.
Roman grins and grabs my ass, lifting me onto the counter. His hands trail possessively under the shirt I borrowed, mapping out every inch of me.
"You’ll have to get used to that feeling if you want to keep ‘dating’ me," He murmurs, though his expression twists slightly at the word "date."
"So we’re dating now?" I tease. "You haven’t even asked."
"Date is such a harsh word," He mutters, the weight of his faith still tugging at him. "But if anyone else touched you as I did, they’d quickly find out just how real God is," He growls, pressing his lips to my neck. I frown as I feel the cold metal of his ring brush against my skin.
"You put your ring back on," I whisper, disappointment lacing my tone.
"You sound upset," He replies, pulling back just enough to look at me, his hands still framing my hips.
"When you wear that ring, what does it mean to you?" I ask, placing my hands on his chest. "Could you walk out in public with it on and still hold my hand?" His jaw tightens.
"Eden, when I wear this ring, it signifies my commitment to something greater than myself. Here, in the privacy of my home, I can ask for forgiveness. But in the church, all I feel is the weight of judgment from above."
"So take it off and don’t put it back on," I challenge. "Keep the ring off."
Roman steps back, shaking his head. "I can’t do that, Eden," He sighs, rubbing his temple. "I can’t abandon the one thing that’s made me believe I deserve more than just suffering," He pleads, and I cross my arms over my chest, trying to mask the sting of his words.
"So you and me? What is this to you?" I ask, dreading his answer.
"You’re not a sin, Eden," He whispers, his voice softening. "You’re a blessing, something I never expected but can’t bring myself to let go of. But even blessings come with their challenges. My commitment to God doesn’t change, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less important to me."
His words bring a sense of warmth, but I push forward. "Is it impossible to see what we have as something more? Could it mean more than the oath you took with that ring?"
"That’s the struggle," He whispers, his voice trembling. "I’m trying to find a way to honor both my faith and what I feel for you. As long as I wear the ring, it’s a reminder that I can strive for both."
Watching his inner turmoil unfold, I struggle to find a way to comfort him. I pushed him into this, and now he’s grappling with the consequences.
I jump down from the counter and pull him into a tight embrace, feeling a flicker of relief when he returns the hug just as firmly.
"We don’t have to define anything right now, Roman. You’ve got me, ring or no ring. Wear it for as long as you need. "
But what if he never takes it off?
What then?
Roman's hands cradle my face, pulling my gaze to meet his. The intensity in his eyes makes my breath hitch.
"I have never had anything in this life that has felt right after my mother died. I thought it was impossible to feel anything but pain until you walked into my life, and I realized keeping you safe meant more than anything else. You have sparked new life in me, Eden, and that's not something I take lightly—"
"Father Briar!" Zoey’s shrill voice rings out, followed by the loud pounding on Roman’s front door, cutting through the intimate moment like a knife. We both jump at the sudden intrusion.
Roman’s expression shifts instantly, his usual guarded look returning as he releases me. "Did you tell her you were here?" He asks, his voice now cold and controlled.
"No," I whisper, stepping back from him. "But I have a feeling I know who did."
Zoey's voice grows more insistent, almost frantic as she pounds on the door again. "Eden, I swear, if you’re in there open this door right now!"
Roman’s eyes narrow as he processes the situation. "Your brother?" He asks, the tension in his voice unmistakable.
I nod reluctantly, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. "He must have figured it out."
Before either of us can say more, the pounding on the door intensifies. Roman sighs, running a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to maintain his composure. "We’ll talk about this later," He says, his tone firm but resigned .
I nod, turning toward the door. "I’ll handle it," I whisper, giving him one last glance before reaching for the handle, bracing myself for whatever chaos awaits on the other side.
Trying to get ahead of me, Roman reaches for the door, but I’m just as quick, both of us clamoring to grab the handle first.
"She's my friend—" I start, but Roman cuts in.
"Your friend who is going to wonder why the hell you're here—"
We fumble for control, but Roman gets there first, nudging me behind the door as he swings it wide open. The realization that he’s shirtless hits me a second too late, and I catch the faint sound of Zoey’s audible gulp when her eyes land on him.
"Father Briar, I don’t mean to interrupt, but..." Zoey pauses, frustration evident in her voice. "Aiden and I can’t seem to find Eden, and we were wondering if she came to the church at all last night—"
Want to hide me, Roman? Then you’ll have to tie me down.
"I'm right here, Zo," I announce, pushing Roman aside with a bit more force than necessary. His eyes widen slightly at my bluntness.
Clad only in Roman’s oversized shirt, I see the wheels turning in Zoey’s head as she draws her own conclusions.
"Holy shit, when Aiden said he thought you spent the night here, I thought he was joking," She whispers, accusations ready to spill from her lips.
"Luca pissed me off. Figured I’d get a good fuck in somewhere else," I say with a smirk, watching both Roman and Zoey freeze in shock .
"I'm kidding," I quickly add, rolling my eyes. "I was upset and lost last night and saw the church. Thankfully, Roman—Father Briar—was awake and let me stay rather than having to explain anything to my dad."
"Jesus. There you are," Aiden’s voice cuts through, and I turn to see him making his way up the walkway. Roman steps further back, trying to avoid drawing attention to his shirtless state.
Looking around quickly, Roman snatches a shirt off the couch, narrowly avoiding Zoey's gaze as she attempts to peek inside, probably noticing the scratched-up state of his back.
"Are you hurt?" Aiden asks, concern lacing his voice as he steps inside, his eyes scanning me.
"Yes, please come in," Roman says dryly, doing his best to hide any evidence of what transpired last night.
"What the hell were you thinking, turning your phone off like that?" Aiden demands, shaking his head in disbelief. "And why the hell didn’t you tell anyone where she was?" he snaps, directing his anger at Roman.
"She was fine, Aiden—" Roman begins, trying to keep his tone steady.
"You know, Father, it would be a real shame to find out you’re preying on young, vulnerable women," Aiden spits, his voice sharp with accusation.
"Aiden," I snap, stepping between them, getting in my brother’s face. "Roman didn’t do anything—"
"Roman?" Aiden questions, his voice dropping to a whisper, careful not to let Zoey overhear. "I thought whatever was happening between you two was over? "
"Things have gotten complicated," I snap, my patience wearing thin. "Now, can we please fucking go before you make things even more awkward?"
I push Aiden back, my frustration boiling over as I usher him and Zoey out of the house. The tension in the air is palpable, and I can feel Roman's eyes on me, a storm of emotions barely contained behind his stoic expression.
As I reach the door, I glance back at Roman, my heart twisting with guilt. His eyes meet mine, and in that brief moment, I see the depth of his anger and the turmoil our relationship has stirred within him.
"I'll see you soon, Eden," He whispers, his voice strained, doing his best to hide the fury simmering beneath the surface. The intrusion by Aiden and Zoey has clearly hit a nerve, and I can sense the challenge that lies ahead in trying to navigate this complicated web we've woven.
Slamming the car door shut, I take a seat in the back, forcing on a pair of sweats Zoey had left in the car for after her shift at the brew.
Taking up the driver and passenger seat, the pair look back at me, waiting for me to say something.
"Well, don't both of you look delightful this morning-"
"Are you having sex with him, Eden?" Aiden questions, ripping the bandaid off as aggressively as he can.
So, we are having this conversation ?
Great.
"I'm not having sex-"
"So he walks around shirtless cooking breakfast for all his altar servers that decide to spend the night?" Zoey questions, equally as off-put at my brother.
"Are you seriously both questioning me right now?" I prod, angered by their reactions.
"You ran off in the middle of a party and responded to no one for hours. Come to find out you spent the night with our priest who, news flash, you already admitted you had something going on with-"
"You told Zoey?" I snap, fully aware of how freely he is speaking in front of her.
"You think that's something I wanted to hold onto alone?" He questions. "My whole fucking life feels like one big lie just waiting to implode-"
Shaking my head, I kick Zoey's door.
"Eden-"
"I did fuck him Aiden," I hiss, both Zoey and him going deadpan. "And I loved every fucking minute of it. So you can run home, tell our dad, and see what the hell happens. Or, you can leave me the hell alone, and let me implode on my own."
Tugging up Roman’s shirt, I show the pair the bruises Luca left.
"This was Luca, not Roman. If you want someone to send the witch hunt after, you're looking in the wrong place."
"Eden, that's not what we're saying," Zoey begins. "He's just... older and in a position of authority with our church. Priests are supposed to swear abstinence- "
"Well, this one didn't," I mutter. "So, are you both going to keep my secret, or tell the whole world my dirty sin?" I question, tapping my foot impatiently.
"And when he's tired of you? When the lust has worn off and he puts his faith over you? What then? Is that something you can deal with?"
It's the same question I've been asking myself repeatedly.
What happens when Roman chooses his faith over me?
"That's not your problem to figure out," I hiss, pulling up my dad's contact on my phone.
Slamming my phone down on the center arm rest, they both eye the device.
"Either call him or let it go."
Taking several seconds to look at the phone, Aiden and Zoey exchange a look.
"When this all comes crashing down Eden, don't say I didn't warn you."
That was the last thing Aiden said before starting the ignition, driving us away from the church and the night Roman and I shared.