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“Cecilia?” I say before she can walk away. She looks back at me with a hopeful expression. I know I’m going to crush it. “I think it’s better if we don’t really talk. I do my job, and you do yours. Understood?”
Just as I knew it would happen, Cecilia’s eyes flash with hurt. “Oh. Um … ok. We don’t have to talk.” Her voice sounds choked, making me feel even guiltier.
Cecilia hurries away before I can take back what I said.
Though I know I can’t take it back.
She’s off-limits, and that’s the way it needs to be, even if she gets hurt in the process.
CHAPTER 6
Cecilia
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” I say. “My last confession was … a week ago.” I can’t believe that just last week, I confessed to Father Enzo my feelings for Theo. So much has changed in that time. I’m engaged to a man I hate. I have to plan a wedding I don’t want. And I’m still so miserably in love with Theo, even though he just told me we should never talk again. I blame it on the moment at the bridal shop. Theo must have freaked out after seeing me half-naked. He sees me as nothing more than a little girl. He was probably traumatized.
“What have you come to confess today, child?” Father Enzo asks. I flinch when he speaks. He sounds so much like Salvatore. Both are old men.
“I hate that I’m being forced into a marriage I don’t want. I hate the man who will become my husband. I want nothing to do with him. And yet, I know it’s my duty to follow orders. To be the good girl everyone expects of me. I’ve always been sogoodthat no one has even asked me what I want. I can’t help but feel shame for it, though. I’m not supposed to have wants and desires. I’m supposed to exist for the wants and desires of men,but I’m starting to think that’s wrong. I have my own feelings, and I just wish the people in my life would acknowledge that.”
Father Enzo clears his throat. “This sounds less like a confession and more like a therapy session. What are you looking to be forgiven for?”
I sigh, dropping my clasped hands and bowing my head. “I’m looking to be forgiven for … my feelings, I guess. I don’t want to feel them. Everything would be so much easier if I just didn’t feel …anything.”
“Life is about feeling everything. You are forgiven for how you feel. But to be truly forgiven, you need to accept your husband. That is your role as a wife. You need to show him you can be a good wife to him.”
I stare through the barrier at Father Enzo in shock. I can only make out his profile, but if I could see his face, I’d consider slapping it. Which, of course, just makes me feel even guiltier. “But I hate him, Father. How am I supposed to be a good wife to him? We’re not even married yet.”
“So, do what a good fiancé is supposed to do.”
“Which is?” I’m really losing my patience with this man.
“Be supportive. Get to know him. Give him a chance. People may surprise you.” He pauses. “Did you work on your feelings from last week? The ones you had for your … bodyguard?”
“No,” I admit, hanging my head. “I’m still in love with him. That’s also something I have to confess.”
“I see.” He’s quiet for a moment. “There’s your problem. You’re not able to accept your fiancé’s love because you still have feelings for someone else. To be forgiven, you need to put aside your feelings for this other person and focus on the man you are to marry. You will be rid of the shame you’re feeling now. God will be proud of you.”
Panic seizes me at his words. “He isn’t proud now?”
“He’s always proud of his children. But you’ve come to confession because you had something to confess. You now know what to do to repent.”
“I … understand.” I really do. I just hate what Father Enzo is suggesting. Really get to know Salvatore? Will that somehow make me like him and get over Theo? I guess I really haven’t given him a chance. Maybe he’s not so bad. I can’t fault him for being old.
Father Enzo finishes the prayer of Absolution, and after we’ve both said, “Amen,” I leave the confessional booth.
Mom is the only one with me today. The twins and Mia caught a cold yesterday and were under the weather this morning. Being sick is the only time us Moretti’s ever get time off from church, according to my mom. Unless, of course, you’re out of the house and married.
Which I soon will be.
“Feeling better?” Mom asks as we head outside. Theo is a silent shadow behind us.
“It’s confessional, Mom. It’s supposed to make you feel better.”
“Then why do you sound worse than when you went in there?”
I glance at Theo before quickly averting my eyes. “You know a confession is a private thing.”
“All right.” She doesn’t push the issue.
