30. Evelyn
CHAPTER THIRTY
EVELYN
Staring at my belongings, each one a silent witness to the conflict raging inside me. If I went through with this and left the convent, I’d be letting go of everything I’d devoted my adult life to. A strange sense of relief tickled the edges of my thoughts at the idea of leaving, escaping the rigidity, the guilt, and the constant self-sacrifice. But the thought also filled me with grief, as if I was abandoning my family, everything I’d ever really known.
Taking hold of the worn wood of the crucifix, still hanging around my neck, the familiar gesture brought a pang of nostalgia, quickly followed by a hollow emptiness. Was this really what I wanted? To turn my back on my life as Sister Evelyn, break the vows I’d taken before God?
With a need to move, to do something, I stood abruptly and from the back of the closet, retrieved a small duffel bag. After setting it next to my belongings, I began to pack. My bible went in first, followed by the toiletries from the bathroom and the few modest skirts and blouses I owned, carefully folded and packed.
I picked up the last item, my notebook, its pages filled with years of handwritten prayers and reflections. Thumbing through it, my resolve hardened. I was relinquishing the identity of Sister Evelyn, shedding it like an ill-fitting cloak, allowing myself to discover who I truly am and what it was I wanted from life.
Taking one last look around my private quarters, the bare white walls, the single bed, the plain wooden cross above the door, and the finality of leaving settled on me, the realization that this small room would no longer be my home. With more force than necessary, I zipped the bag shut, the sound jarring in the silence.
I walked slowly through the quiet corridors of the convent, until I reached Father Hudson’s office, my knuckles white as I waited to knock. Nerves fluttered in my stomach. Setting aside the recent difficulties, Father Hudson’s consistent kindness and gentle guidance had always been a source of support. He was a mentor in the truest sense. Saying goodbye to him made this all so much more real and final.
I gave the open door a light knock before pushing it inward. Father Hudson was seated behind his desk but stiffened when he saw me, the muscles in his back and neck instantly rigid. “Father Hudson? Do you have a moment? I just wanted to say goodbye”
He recoiled at my entrance, the chair legs screeching against the hardwood floor, as he scrambled back, using the desk as if to shield himself.
“Goodbye?” he stammered, nervously licking his lips.
I frowned. “Yes, I’m leaving the convent. I thought you’d want to know.” The words felt strange in my mouth, surreal. I reached out to hug him goodbye, but he jerked away, as if my touch would burn.
The sting of his rejection left me reeling in confusion. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong? Why are you acting like this?”
When he replied, his words were clipped. “I wish you well, Evelyn, truly.” His anxious eyes flicked to the door in silent dismissal.
The dismissal stung. I blinked back tears, but unwilling to push further, I nodded stiffly. “Thank you, Father. Goodbye.”
Wandering in a daze, I found myself in the chapel, the soft light of the votive candles illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Their gentle glow and the scent of beeswax created a peaceful atmosphere. I hadn’t even realized I was looking for Serena until I saw her kneeling in a pew, head bowed.
“Serena,” I whispered, the sound echoing unnaturally loud in the stillness, causing her to jerk her head up with a guarded expression.
“Evelyn? What’s wrong?” She took in my bag, the tears on my cheeks, and quickly stood. “What’s going on?”
“I’m leaving the convent,” I said, the statement just as daunting a declaration the second time around.
“You’re leaving?” Serena repeated, voice trembling. “Why? What happened? You’ve been so… different lately.”
I fumbled for the right words, managing a shaky, “I just… I need to figure some things out. I can’t explain it, Serena, but this is something I have to do.”
Her grip was a vise, her sharp fingernails digging into my skin, leaving crescent-shaped imprints. “Don’t go. Please. This isn’t you.”
“I’m sorry. I have to,” I said, pulling away gently while my vision swam with tears, each a hot, painful drop.
I hefted my meager bag onto my shoulder as I hastened down the sidewalk. Pride spurred me down several blocks of the street until a motel’s flickering neon sign, casting a lurid glow on the rain-slicked street, beckoned like a beacon, offering the anonymity I craved.
Though physically near the convent, it was a world away, perfect for solitude. Right now, I didn’t want anyone’s company.
Inside the small, dingy lobby, a bored clerk barely glanced up from his phone as I approached the counter. I cleared my throat. “A room, please. Just for a night or two.”
He named a price and I counted out bills from my tiny stipend, my life’s savings. It left my purse distressingly light. With a grunt, he slid a key across the laminate. “Room 6, ’round back.”
The room was sparse, with peeling floral wallpaper revealing patches of faded plaster beneath, a threadbare comforter draped across the bed, and a rickety chair. But it was clean. I dropped my bag and sat heavily on the bed, the events of the day crashing over me. More tears pricked and my throat ached with unreleased sobs. What was I doing? Had I thrown away my life, my vocation, my faith? For what?
Lost in my decision, I almost didn’t notice the sudden shimmer of light in the center of the room. I blinked, thinking it a trick of my tears, but the glow intensified, coalescing into three distinct shapes. Figures. Men.
In an instant, Aziz, Levi, and Ian stood before me, their expressions hard and disapproving as they scanned the room. Levi’s lip curled in disgust. “There is no way we’re letting you stay here.”
My mouth fell open. I sputtered, “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
Levi snorted, flicking his gaze over the faded curtains and water-stained ceiling. “If your goal was to disappear, you’re not doing great. This place is a dump.”
I bristled, my hands clenching in the duvet. The shock of their appearance was quickly overtaken by indignation. How dare they just materialize, intruding on my privacy and passing judgment?
“I’m not looking for five-star accommodations,” I said, temper flaring under the intensity of their stares. “What’s wrong with this place, anyway? That it’s clean?”
Dramatically, I pulled back the bedspread, displaying the clean sheets underneath. “Look. No bed bugs, no stains!”
With a barely perceptible lift of his perfectly sculpted eyebrow, Aziz expressed his doubt, “You can hear the highway from here.”
Ian crossed his arms, a grim expression on his face as he stated flatly, “And it smells like semen.”
“There is no smell.” I rolled my eyes.
Ian sniffed the air with a flourish, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled. “Trust me, my sense of smell is better than yours. It smells like semen.”
Levi shook his head, taking in the small room disdainfully. “This room is a non-starter. You’re coming with us.”
Putting my hands on my hips, I leveled a furious glance at each demon. “I refuse to be trapped in some gilded cage where you decide what I can and can’t do!”
Aziz smirked, an infuriating curl of his lip. “You’ll be free to come and go as you please. You’ll have access to cars, clothes, whatever you need.”
My vulnerability crept in as I hesitated, the cold reality of my empty wallet replacing the heat of my pride. I was more than aware the motel stay was unsustainable, the ticking clock of my dwindling funds a constant pressure. The small amount of money I had remaining from the church’s stipend this quarter wouldn’t last long. I could approach my parents for help, but frankly, three demons from hell seemed easier to handle than my parents’ disapproval, and the bitter sting of their condemnation.
After careful consideration, I begrudgingly agreed. “Fine. But this doesn’t mean you’re in charge of me.”
Before I could reconsider, Levi reached out, his hand warm against mine, and the room swam, shapes and colors blurring together in a dizzying kaleidoscope. I squeezed my eyelids shut, stomach lurching as the ground seemed to fall away beneath my feet.
When the vertigo subsided, and I was able to take in my surroundings, I found myself standing in a hallway that oozed wealth and refinement. Marble floors stretched out before me, so polished I could see my reflection. Crystal chandeliers dripped from the ceiling, their light refracting into a million sparkling prisms across the wall of windows, revealing the glittering city lights far below.
Ian strode ahead, purpose in his every step, and pushed open a heavy wooden door. “Hello? Homeowners? Where are you?”
I frowned, glancing at Aziz. “Homeowners?”
Aziz shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t worry, they desperately need a vacation.”
From the end of the hallway where Ian had vanished, a startled man and woman in rumpled nightclothes emerged, their faces pale with fright.
“What is going on here? Who are you people? How did you get in?” the man bellowed.
“This is going to be fun,” Aziz said, sinking into the plush chaise lounge, the salty scent of freshly popped popcorn filling the air as a bowl appeared in his hands.
“We should leave,” I begged Aziz, already picturing the interrogation room and the officer’s skeptical expression as I tried to explain my inexplicable appearance in these strangers’ home.
A piece of popcorn sailed through the air, hitting me squarely in the chest. “Don’t be such a party pooper, have a little...faith.”
Ian emerged behind the couple, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. With a commanding tone, he said, “Go on a vacation. Now. Don’t pack anything. You can buy what you need when you get there. Also, fuck each other like dogs in heat any time you’re in private.” He pressed the woman’s purse into her hand, then guided the couple toward the door.
I stared as Ian turned the key in the lock, panic making me shrill. “You had no right Ian, this is their home. You can’t force people to leave their own home just because you don’t like the hotel I chose.”
Levi interrupted. “Trust us, they needed a break. He was about to cheat, and she was planning her next nose job. Nothing more evil than a plastic surgeon.”
My gaze swept across the penthouse, the stunning city view battling with the gnawing unease in my gut. The sheer opulence of the place, with its rich fabrics and gleaming surfaces, was far beyond anything I’d ever encountered.
The men were quite at home and utterly relaxed. Levi poured himself a drink, the amber whiskey filling the glass, Aziz sprawled on the chaise, licking a smear of butter suggestively from his finger, and Ian leaned against the wall, silently observing me with a calculating stare.
“This is your new home,” Levi said, the glint of the crystal tumbler catching the light as he gestured, “for now.”
I inhaled slowly, understanding the journey had just begun.