Chapter 42
Nicholas
Although nostalgic, stepping inside St. Michael’s felt like returning to a home Nicholas had outgrown.
It wasn’t that the doorway was suddenly too constricting for his shoulders to pass through, or the ceiling too low for his height.
It was that his spirit had taken on a new set of wings. He simply no longer fit.
He’d expected to be overcome with grief—guilt, even—and was prepared to feel the hand of God more firmly upon him.
But His presence wasn’t any stronger in the dim vestibule than it was when Nicholas was alone in bed, surrounded by friends, or even during the countless hours spent wishing he was in the arms of the man he didn’t want to crave.
Nicholas could hear Father Murphy puttering around somewhere within the nave, likely preparing for Sunday mass. He took a deep breath before entering, purposely giving sound to his steps.
Liam spun around from the sanctuary with a pleased expression, his smile faltering at the sight of Nicholas before quickly lighting up again.
“St. Nicholas! Finally stopping by for a visit.”
The nickname no longer felt weighted by pressure, only the indulgence of love from his friend.
Father Murphy glanced behind Nicholas, toward the doors, as if he had been expecting someone else.
“Is now not a good time? I can come back tomorrow.”
He waved Nicholas off. “Nonsense.”
They met halfway for a lingering hug, and Nicholas tried to make himself smaller, to hide the changes to his body. Liam pulled back, eyeing his facial features—which were sharper than before and too flawless to be real.
“You look good, Nicholas. Like life has been kind to you.”
Nicholas nodded, unable to outright lie to him. He’d been about to return the compliment, but his friend’s deep-set eyes weren’t as full of life as they used to be. Something had changed since the last time Nicholas saw him.
“Are you okay?”
Father Murphy seemed flustered by the question. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
It wasn’t an answer.
“I don’t know. You just seem… burdened.”
Liam used to say the same thing about him.
“It’s nothing a little rest won’t fix.”
“If you’re tired, I can—”
“No, it’s fine. I’m never too tired for a friend. So, what brings you out at this time of night?”
Nicholas knew he hadn’t been a great friend to the priest as of late, constantly avoiding him. Yet he’d shown up tonight without consideration for the time because he needed his help. And Liam, being Liam, would never turn him away.
“I’m sorry that it took me so long to come and see you, and that it’s because I need something from you. Maybe before I leave, you’ll let me help you for a change.”
“That’s kind of you.” His smile said something different. It said some things couldn’t be shared with anyone.
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are. You can help by telling me what I can do for you.”
There was a finality to his tone; the topic of what bothered him had been closed. Liam was a master of polite assertion.
Nicholas pulled the gold rosary from his pocket. Father Murphy had once lent it to him.
“I’m lending it to you, which means you have to come back to return it.”
“I wanted to return this.”
Father Murphy took it, eyeing Nicholas curiously.
“You know you don’t need an excuse to come and talk to me, right?”
“I know. But without one, I might not have shown up. I was honestly surprised to find the doors open.”
“Good thing they were.”
Liam once needed refuge in the middle of the night and had found it inside this very church. He liked to hang around longer than he should, in case there were any other lost souls out there who needed sanctuary. But this was a little too late, even for him.
“Sit. Talk to me.”
The last time Nicholas sat in these pews to commune with the priest, he hadn’t been able to meet his eyes. It was a tough task now, but he faced the challenge.
“I met someone.”
Nicholas searched his gaze for permission to continue. While he wanted his onetime mentor’s advice, he also wanted to be respectful of the vows Liam had taken. He began to wonder if coming here—with this issue in particular—had been the wrong decision.
“Does she make you happy?”
“He,” Nicholas clarified, drowning in the following silence.
Maybe they should’ve done this in the confessional booth, where the confessor’s duty was to act as a merciful representative of Christ, absent of judgment. Here, out in the open, before the altar, Nicholas felt unprotected by the laws of the sacramental seal.
“Does he make you happy?”
Liam hadn’t even blinked; if anything, he seemed intrigued. Nicholas simply stared back at him.
“What? Were you expecting a religious lecture?”
“I thought you’d at least ask if I was sure about being…
” He trailed off, looking around as if confirming they were alone, hidden from the eyes and ears of God.
Nicholas understood now that he was loved by the creator no matter what he identified as, but being within these sacred walls made remembering that hard.
“You always ask if I’m sure about my decisions.”
“That’s because you never seemed sure about much, Nicholas.
You’re different now. I can see that. While you may need to bounce something off of me, get an outside perspective, you don’t need me to help convince you of who you are.
You seem to be standing firm in that already.
Lucky you,” he added, sounding almost wistful.
“Now, does the man you met make you happy?”
“I think so. He did once. He probably would again, if I let him.”
Father Murphy frowned. “So what’s holding you back? God? The church’s acceptance of it?”
Nicholas shook his head. “No. That used to be the case, but not anymore.”
His lips pressed together as he figured out where to start, what he could share, and what had to remain a secret between them.
“He’s the first person I want to call at the end of every day, and the start of every new one. I’m hitting all these milestones in my life, and while I have people to share them with—yourself included—none of you compare to him.” He grimaced. “No offense.”
Father Murphy chuckled. “None taken.”
Liam knew all about his job at the animal shelter, his new friend circle, and how well he was doing in school. They might not have seen each other in a while, but Nicholas kept him informed. Still, it wasn’t the same.
“I want to see his smile when I tell him I aced an exam I barely had time to study for. I want to feel his joy, his pride, his support when I explain how I managed to get four dogs adopted in one day—and a ferret missing a few fingers.”
Injured animals were always the hardest to find a home for, and while Nicholas could heal animals, he hadn’t yet figured out how to regrow an appendage.
“He thinks I’m amazing. He’s experienced me at my most insecure stage, felt my rage, seen me hurt—physically and emotionally. He knows about my ugly past and can identify all my fears… It doesn’t make him want me any less. None of it. I should want him. I do want him.”
Liam took his hand, uncurling his fingers.
“Then why don’t you call him?”
“Because he’s made mistakes. Big ones. Although I’m starting to forget what they are, or why they should even matter. Sometimes I think I’m holding back out of sheer stubbornness.”
He slipped his hand from Liam’s, lacing his fingers together at his nape.
“Well, you’ve always been obstinate.”
Nicholas huffed. “Yeah. I guess I have. The thing is, I had a good reason before today. Lots of great reasons. I technically still do, but…”
“But those reasons are no longer good enough for your heart,” Father Murphy said softly.
“No. They’re downright flimsy.”
“So what’s holding you back?”
That was the question Nicholas needed answered.
“There’s something inside of me that I can’t see. Something that’s keeping me from him.” Nicholas slouched in the pew, mentally drained.
Father Murphy’s expression turned thoughtful.
“You know, you were always cautious as a child—overly cautious. One of the parishioners would try to win you over after every service. I believe her name was Mrs. Stout.”
Nicholas straightened. “I don’t remember her.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to. You were young when she changed parishes. She’d bring a handful of taffy with her, offering you every piece in exchange for a verbal hello. Everyone loved Mrs. Stout. Especially the kids. I think she saw you as a challenge.”
Nicholas frowned. “I was rude to her?”
“I think you were just shy. The attention made you nervous. You’d respond to her bargain with a shake of your head instead of words. The other kids would rush over and take what you denied. You’d watch them devour it, then stare wide-eyed as they practically bounced off the vaulted ceiling.”
Liam laughed, gaze going distant for a second.
“One day I flat-out asked you why you never accepted the candy.”
“What did I say?”
Father Murphy sobered, tone taking on an almost sad quality.
“You said, ‘What if I like it, Deacon Murphy?’”
Nicholas blinked, understanding Liam’s sadness. He now felt it too.
“You were always afraid of what taking what you wanted would do to you, of who or what it would make you. You never strayed out of the lines. You always played it safe.”
Wasn’t that what he accused Mateo and Sean of seeing him as? Safe? What would happen if he were to let himself go? If he gave himself permission to be truly reckless? To not see life in terms of good and evil, right and wrong? To stop demanding perfection. Nicholas was terrified to find out.
“That’s because I always felt in danger of something.”
Or maybe you’re the dangerous thing.
The thought came out of nowhere, like he hadn’t been the one to think it at all, as if it had been whispered into his ear. His beach yawned from within, Liam’s voice pulling him far from the shoreline.
“You took to God rather quickly, and likely trusted me because I was a servant of his.” Liam grinned, expression full of sentiment. “Poor Mateo. He wouldn’t rest until you accepted him.”
“Paranoia with a healthy dose of hypervigilance,” Nicholas muttered.
But hadn’t he gotten that characteristic from Zayn? Which meant it wasn’t his fault.
Something about that rang false, even while he felt the truth in it.
“You’ve spent enough time catastrophizing, Nicholas.”
Nicholas twisted toward him. “So you’re saying I should go to him? Be with him. And that maybe this resistance I’m feeling will just go away?”
That felt like the right path. If he were to just push through whatever unnamed thing held him back, it would fade, would be forgotten about.
How could it not when the whole world faded into nothingness when they were together, when everything outside of how Gabriel made him feel was easily forgotten about with one touch?
“I don’t know. Feels a little like avoidance and denial.”
Denial.
Something Nicholas tried not to live in, although he sometimes failed.
“You said there was something keeping you from…”
“Gabriel,” Nicholas said, deciding to trust him with that.
“Gabriel. Maybe that something is actually keeping you from yourself. And until you face it, you’re no good to anyone, especially him.”
Nicholas sat with that, trying to make sense of it. “Why especially him?”
“You claim that he sees you clearly, and from what I recall, you tend to hide from those who see straight to the heart of you.”
He’d been kind enough to use the word ‘recall’ instead of ‘know,’ and to not point out that Nicholas had been hiding from him. It was clear that Nicholas still had some growing to do.
“Seems like every time I think I’ve figured myself out, life makes it abundantly clear that I have more evolving to do. More scary things to face.”
Liam graced him with a paternal smile.
“A work in progress is all we’ll ever be, Nicholas. That and death are the only two certainties.”