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He grabbed my wrist before I could make my exist. “Pain can’t be avoided. We do ourselves a disservice in this life and cause more pain by trying to avoid it. Harm comes when we wallow or sink into frustration over pain.”
“I don’t know how to escape it.” I twisted to peer at him over my shoulder.Another mistake. The thoughts his presence put in my mind…
“Don’t escape it. Embrace it.” He didn’t release me, so I returned to my seat, my hand clutched in both of his.
“That’s why I’m here.” Or maybe it’s why I was drawn to this place.
“After all these years?” Anthony asked. “Why now?”
“I didn’t know where you were. I sit in churches often when I pass through towns. People leave others in churches alone. They are great places to wait out time.” Would he scold me for desecrating holy ground with such activity?
“So you stumbled into my parish?” His kind brow wrinkled with confusion. “Or did you seek out vengeance?”
“Wholly by accident. Vengeance has never been my design.” After years of searching for for Connor McGrath I’d found Father Anthony in his stead—no Father Connor or Father McGrath, which might have given me an easier time. Maybe he’d forsaken his Irish name to wash away the sins of our fathers and let himself be reborn free from his sins. I would have never known, not a trace of the change in any data base I could get my hands on. All traces of him vanished at eighteen. Even his face had morphed with age, distinguished the young man I knew, but I’d never forget those blues. “Fate. I would say.”
“God works in mysterious ways.” He stayed quiet for a long moment. “If not vengeance then why would you want to see me? Why would you return so frequently?”
“Are you hiding?” The thought hadn’t occurred to me, but my very presences here might put his life at risk. “I can stop visiting if you wish to leave me in your past. I wouldn’t lead harm here.”
“No!” Heart behind his word, stirring my chest. Maybe he wasn’t as void of feelings as I suspected. “Our fathers are long dead and their legacy washed into the gutters. I don’t think those who took over would fear a priest returning to claim an empire of dust.” His fingertips traced the lines of my palm. “What keeps you returning, then? I can’t imagine your job brings you so far north so frequently. Surely you could go to any church for forgiveness.”
“You.” I dropped the word like a hundred pound weight at his feet.
He didn’t speak at first, but he didn’t release my hand either.
I waited, my patience a true virtue.
“Why me? I can’t imagine after what I did to you that you’d look kindly on me.”
“You’re the only familiarity I’ve ever found.” I didn’t think the truth would fix my admission, but I was out of lies. “Both our families were ripped from us.” It wasn’t the whole truth.
“You wouldn’t have it back, would you?” He searched my face, looking for something there. A spark or maybe some evidence in my expression.
“No, I fear where both of us would be if that night hadn’t ended in bloodshed.”But I also fantasized about it. Fantasied about growing old with him and how different we’d be had we not been separated.
He nodded. “I would be a substantially different person. God had a plan and rescued us both from the atrocities that life would have brought.”
“Do you regret it all?” I asked, and maybe it was the pinnacle of what brought me back week after week.
“No. Not all of it.”Hope blossomed with his words.
“What don’t you regret?”
“You, I never could stay away from you.”He met my eyes. “God must give me strength to resist you even now.”
There was finality in his statement, and I fled without my penance.
2
CONFESSION
My departure brought deep sorrow, hope a vile thing when left to rot. For how could it be more than it was? He wasn’t free, and I wasn’t in any place to be a partner. He was married to God, and I my work.
It didn’t stop my return. Part of me hoped the winter would thaw and I’d stop thinking about that night. That the finality of his rebuttal would bring me peace, but as spring bloomed at our feet and the warmth brought storms to our shores and my mind, nothing changed. Turmoil turned in my gut as I longed for him. The greatest sin, stealing a servant of God for my own pleasure.
I resisted, only reaching out for him in my sleep, glad I no longer shared a barracks with a host of men to ask questions. My depravity was kept secret with my other misdeeds.
I suffered the affliction of him alone.
