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It opened to reveal the Prez of the Sinners.
Rex stared at me, his hand on the door handle, an ease in his stance that put me on edge.
We were allies, after all. Not friends. Still, from how he was looking at me, you wouldn’t think we’d been texting each other yesterday.
"I thought Catholics believed Sundays were the day of rest."
"They do, but I’m not Catholic."
Christ, that felt good to say.
His eyes narrowed. "Your father was. The last time I saw him, he was preaching fire and brimstone."
"That was what he did best," I rasped.
Rex bowed his head slightly. "The pain doesn’t go. Grief twists with time. But you know that already. Our fathers aren’t the only family we’ve lost."
I studied him, and I had no idea where the words came from, but I asked them nonetheless, "Does forgiveness come with time?"
Our gazes collided.
Eons passed as we took the other’s measure.
Then, he said, "Acceptance does. That they’re only men. That they made no promises to be perfect."
"That isn’t the same as forgiveness."
"No," he agreed, keeping it at that.
I gritted my teeth. "Shame."
"Isn’t it?" He sighed. "What are you doing here, Aidan? Savannah will leave at the end of the day. You had no reason to come here."
"I had every reason. Wouldn’t you follow your woman to the ends of the fucking earth?"
"I have."
"What’s goddamn Jersey by comparison?"
He conceded that with a snort, but he moved aside and said, "You’re welcome."
I frowned. "For letting me in?"
"No. The kitten."
"The fuck?"
His lips twitched. "You’ll see soon enough."
