Chapter Seven #2
“When I was here today, I realized what it feels like to be accepted. Zane used to make me feel like that, but as he’s gotten more into politics, the more complicated everything becomes.
He’s not the same as he was when we met.
He’s,” she pauses and sighs, “not the same at all. Truth be told, I’m not sure he ever really cared about me.
I think maybe he was just really good at faking it. ”
My stomach clenches and I know she’s holding something back. Something bad. I can feel it in my bones. “Tell me more.”
She stares toward me for a long moment then pulls up her sleeve slowly, dark blue bruises adorning her arm.
My thumb continues to brush the back of her wrist, though I’m coming unhinged inside. Rage bubbles through me like a fucking storm as alarms rattle every inch of my body. I try to relax myself, but my jaw is clenching tight.
I am going to kill this man!
I’m going to fucking kill him!
“He did this the other night,” she says, tears falling off her cheeks, “and today when I got home, he was mad because I didn’t post to social media all day.
He pushed me against the wall and screamed as loud as he could, then told me I wasn’t worth the trouble.
That I was useless.” Her tears fall heavier now.
“I don’t know… I was afraid to tell him I was done, so I waited for him to fall asleep and I left the note, ordered an Uber to the corner, and walked away.
I’m done, but I know his family, and they’ll do something to make sure a divorce never happens. They’re all about showing face.”
“Then I’ll protect you,” I growl, the words scattering everywhere before I can clean them up. “The church will protect you. No one will ever do this to you again, Wren. You deserve better.”
She swallows hard and stares at me in the dim light of the church, the cross at the altar still lit by the moon, reminding me of the dream I had.
Reminding me of the way I bent her over my desk, the way I’d made her mine.
If she were mine, I’d never treat her like this.
If she were mine, I’d never let a day go by without making sure she felt like a fucking angel.
Stop! She can’t ever be mine!
I’m sick, which is exactly why I should recommend she see another priest. I should recommend she find safety in another church. It’s the right thing to do. My intentions aren’t pure. My advice won’t be either.
These are facts. Facts that many priests have had to navigate. And yet, I lift my arm around her shoulder and tug her in against my chest, my chin resting on the top of her head as I stare at the cross at the front of the church.
“It doesn’t matter that I deserve better,” she says. “Everyone deserves something they’re not getting. This is a choice I made, a choice that cost me. I’m sure he has people out looking for me right now. I’ll never escape him.”
“What did you say in the letter?”
“I told him it was over. I told him to leave me alone, and that I’d call a lawyer and get a restraining order if I had to.”
“That seems pretty clear.”
“Yeah, but his family… they’ll do whatever it takes to guard his reputation.
They have big dreams for him beyond mayor.
They’re talking governor and possibly president.
They don’t want anything to tarnish the boy next door image they’ve created for him.
” She takes a deep, centering breath. “I don’t know if you know much about Zane, but his dad was governor of Colorado, and he made his daughter disappear because she was into drugs.
He couldn’t help her. He couldn’t love her.
Ultimately, he felt he couldn’t do anything but push her away and pretend she didn’t exist.”
I nod slowly, the thought of my own sister’s memory filling my mind. “That’s awful. You think she’s still alive?”
“Don’t know.” Wren shrugs. “They’re awful, weird people, and I don’t know how to get away from them.”
I glance down at the bruises on her arm again. They’re dark and purple, the edges frayed with yellow. “How long has he been hurting you like this?”
She shrugs against my chest as I stroke my hand down over the side of her arm.
“The last year has been the worst of it. It’s so stupid that I let it go on for as long as I did, but I blamed myself.
” She scoffs as she says, “I still do, like I’m the reason he gets so mad.
That if I could change what I need, somehow he’d stop reacting the way he does, and he’d love me. It’s a stupid girl thought, I know.”
“It’s not stupid,” I say, brushing my lips against the top of her head without thought. “It’s normal. I’ve talked to a few women whose husbands have been abusive, and they all say the same thing. They believed they were the problem.”
“And do you hold all the women in your parish when they come in crying late at night?”
“No,” I groan. “This is a first.”
“Well, thank you. I was really feeling lost tonight. I knew I couldn’t use credit cards for a hotel, and he’d look for me with my parents or my friend. This felt like safety for some reason.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.” I hold her tighter. “You can stay here as long as you like.”
“I won’t stay long. If I could just maybe sleep on the floor here tonight or maybe stretch out on a pew, I think I’ll be okay.
I doubt he’d think I’d come here, and if he did think I was here, he wouldn’t destroy a holy place to get to me.
There’s way too much publicity in that.” She lifts her head from my chest and stares toward me. “What am I doing?”
“You’re making a change,” I say, wrapping her tiny hand in mine as I lead her up from the pew and toward the rectory. “You’re here with me because that’s where you feel safe. I’m going to make the bed for you, and you’re going to rest your head.”
I’m leading her to the back door, through my office, and toward my sleeping quarters as I realize that no one but me has slept in the rectory since I took over the church twenty years ago.
“This is a house too,” she says, her hand still tucked in mine. “I didn’t know that.”