Page 135 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part Two

“Sit,” I say, and point to the picnic. “Nothing is ruined.”

But as she slinks to the rug and sits, shoulders and chin lower than what they should be, I cross to the chest and start pulling out her gifts. She watches curiously as I lay the series of ribbon-wrapped boxes out before her. When they’re all out, I pull out the crumpled, still sealed letter from the Pope and set it down too. I keep staring at it, unable to meet Mercy’s eyes.

“It was hand-delivered today,” I say, “but I want to open it together after my surprise.” I chew over how to say the next words for a moment, unsure. “I want it in this order because I need you to know that it comes second to you. Whatever is inside is not important.” I lift my gaze. “You are.”

Emotion glimmers in her eyes, and she presses a palm to her beating heart. “Okay. I’ll be serious, I promise.”

My lips curve, and I hand her the first box. “I hope not.”

“Okay, Padre.” She gives me a curious look. “Now I’m intrigued.”

“Open it.”

She rips at the bow, yanks the ribbon off, and opens the lid with a gasp.

“I don’t want to change you, Mercy,” I say as she pulls out the glass anal beads with wide, excited eyes. Heat rushes up my neck and burns my ears. “I just want . . . I mean, I—” I plant a hand on my face, but hiding doesn’t help the words flow. “I still want you to—Dio.”

I drop my hand, and she’s already lifting the lid off the next box. It’s the one with the spanking paddle, cuffs, and feather thing the lady at the store said goes hand in hand with the kit.

“Babe, I love it!” she exclaims, then rips open the next box and squeals so loudly that I’m sure birds in the trees take to the sky outside the belfry. This one is full of battery-operated toys. “I love, love, love these!”

“We left your favorite ones in Rome,” I mutter, secretly mortified as she reaches for the final box and lifts the lid. “And I didn’t want you to think⁠—”

“Fuck me. Is this what I think it is?” Blue eyes collide with mine and wait for an answer.

I wince. “Maybe?”

She lifts the product box and reads the label. “Make the perfect replica penis, just add water.”

“There is blue glitter in there too—if you want.”

Her hand drops with the box, her bottom lip pops out, and she looks at me with watery eyes. When she speaks, it’s high-pitched and squeaky. “This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.”

I clear my throat and dig into my pocket for that small, circular thing. “There’s more.”

“More?” She grabs a tiny olive oil bottle and shows me. “But I only bought you this little gift, and you did all this!” She waves around the belfry.

“I brought you here, to this special place, because I want it to mean something when I propose to you.”

My head dips to look at my pocket because I can’t get the ring out. She must think I’m avoiding her because she grips my face and forces it back up.

“Cisco, what did you just say?”

Her eyes are so big and blue. The fairy lights choose that moment to twinkle on, triggered by the solar sensors now that the sun is low enough.

I laugh as she looks up and gasps at the lights, then I laugh harder as she remembers she is trying to grill me for answers, and glowers at me. This feels so good. Warm and big and full in my soul.

“Stop laughing!” she shouts. “Start talking, Padre. What⁠—”

I hold up the diamond ring between us, and her gaze drops to it. This and the toys are the only things I wanted to spend Angelotti money on. The church still pays me, so I didn’t care about the rest. It will be hard enough to forgive myself for what happened as it is, but I know if I have Mercy in my life, I’ll have a chance to accept it at least.

I want her to be mine forever, and I want a ring on her finger to prove it, and I want that ring big enough to show any fool of a man who gets too close to her to see that she’s taken. She’s mine. And if they don’t care, then I want the diamond sharp enough to cut when she punches them in the face.

I tell her all this, and she starts hyperventilating. “It’s an engagement ring?”

Eyes crinkling, I take her hand and slide it onto her ring finger. “Perfetto,” I mutter when it fits. When I look up, she’s frozen, eyes wide, and not breathing. “Mm.” I nod. “I was afraid this would happen.”

“What’s happening?”