by Claire Adams
I shuddered at the thought of how he’d just thrown away his purity that night and wondered if he’d done it before. He sure seemed to know what he was doing.
I took a chance and glanced up towards the altar. He was blessing the Eucharist and not looking at me. Will the body and blood of Christ still be as holy after being blessed by a fallen priest?
I stared at his handsome face and wondered, if he was so willing to throw away his relationship with God by having illicit, drunken sex, what else might he be willing to do? What might he be willing to do in order to keep it a secret? I shivered again and then immediately chastised myself for those unpure thoughts. Sex is a far stretch from murder.
I stuck out the mass until it was time to receive the Eucharist. The church was a large one so there were three lines. Father Jace was giving his out on the far right. I chose the line on the far left. After I received my communion, I stepped to the side, crossed myself and knelt quickly with a word of thanks to God our Savior; then, I slipped out the side door. I could finally breathe.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
JACE
I stood in the greeting line after mass was over and said hello to the people I’d already met and met quite a few people that I hadn’t seen before. I finished talking with a young couple that had just moved to the area and were looking to start a Bible study when I was surprised to see a familiar face.
“Hi, Jace.” Lily had been my girlfriend right out of high school for two years. She was as beautiful as ever. She had long, wild, dark hair and light blue eyes that seemed to look right through you sometimes. I had been in love with her, desperately so, once upon a time.
I took her hand and smiled back. “Lily, it’s so good to see you. Do you live here now?”
“Yes, I work here in town. I’d heard that you became a priest. Congratulations. I hope you’re happy.” I was. I was filled with more joy than I ever knew…right up until Grandmother died and it all fell apart. I forced a brighter smile and said,
“I’m very happy, Lily. Thank you. How about you? Are you married? Any children?” She’d always wanted a big family. We talked about getting married, but we hadn’t made it official yet before she broke up with me. I wouldn’t have sex with her. I wanted to wait, and I was already considering the priesthood…or at the very least, becoming a Eucharistic minister.
She had told me she needed passion in her life. We went our separate ways, and I went on to the seminary. She was my last relationship before I became a priest and entered my relationship with God. The irony is that if I’d slept with her back then, it would have been much less of a sin than the one I’d committed a couple of weeks ago.
“I’m not married. I was engaged for a few years, but it didn’t work out. I’d love to have coffee sometime and catch up if you’re able?”
“I’d like that,” I told her honestly. It would be nice to share an afternoon talking with an old friend.
“Great,” she said, taking out a little card that had the name of a hair salon on it with Lily’s name underneath. “My cell number is on that. Give me a call when you have some time.”
“I will, Lily. It was so nice to see you.”
“You, too,” she said, flashing that pretty dimple again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DAPHNE
Monday morning, I got a call from the restaurant. It was my boss Ken. “Hey, Daphne, I’m sorry to do this to you, but there was a mix up on the schedule and we’re a little overstaffed. Do you mind having the day off since you’re scheduled for the rest of the week?”
“No, of course not,” I told him. I was a little disappointed because I did need the money—and I was already dressed and ready to go—but I could readily think of at least one thing I needed to do. “Thanks for letting me know before I got there. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Daphne.” I liked Ken. I was learning a lot from him, and although I hoped someday to go back to school and become a nurse, it’s all good life experience.
After I hung up, I changed out of my work clothes and slipped on a floor-length skirt and a white blouse. I left my hair in the braid I’d put it in for work and headed down to the church. I had to get it over with or it would ruin the relationship I had with God. Being a good Catholic was what got me through so many bad times in my life. I was in no way ready to lose that.
Confession was in full swing when I got there. I waited on my knees in front of the altar until everyone else had gone before me. When there was no one else left, I slipped into the confession box and said, “Bless me, Father, but I’m not here to confess any sins. I’m here to speak to you about what we did…the sin we committed together. I’m the woman you had sex with. My name is Daphne and now, I know that yours is Jace. Father Jace.”
It was deathly quiet for what seemed like a long time. At first, I thought he wasn’t going to say anything to me, at all. Then when he did, I found myself wishing that he hadn’t. “I slept with you? Are you crazy? I’m a priest.” He sounded righteously indignant, and it really pissed me off.
“How dare you? You broke your vows, and I have agonized over this for nearly two weeks. You sat in there last week and let me confess to you, and you didn’t have the courage to admit your part in it. You were only concerned with whether or not I told anyone. Now you call me crazy? What kind of a priest are you, anyways?”
I could hear him breathing heavily, but he still wasn’t saying anything so I said, “Maybe you were too drunk to remember clearly. You were slurring your speech a lot in that seedy little bar where we met. I must say that meeting a priest in a bar was not something I would have ever expected.
“I was pretty drunk, too, but I remember that night vividly. I remember going back to your apartment and making love to you in your bed. I remember waking up the next morning and feeling horrified that I’d done something so horrible as to have sex outside of wedlock. I’d never done that before, you know.
“Now, I not only have to live with that, but thanks to you, I have to live with the fact that I had sex with a priest. If you don’t think we need to talk about that, that’s okay. I’ll find someone in the church who is willing to talk to me.”
I stood up to go and heard him say, “Wait! I’m sorry. You’re right. You shouldn’t have to go to someone else. If you’re still willing to talk to me, just slip me an address or something where I can meet you before you go.”
I didn't know if the “I’m sorry” was for sleeping with me, lying to me, or being angry with me—or if he believed it would encompass it all. I wasn’t accepting his apologies at that point, but I would give him the chance to talk. Mostly because I was so curious as to why he did what he did.
I had already written down my address and phone number in the hopes that he would agree to talk privately. I slipped it through the slot on his side and left without saying anything further.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JACE
I sat there for a long time after Daphne left, pondering my own demise. It was bad enough that I had had sex. Not much was going to trump that, unless someday I decided to commit murder. Dear God, forgive me for that thought. I was kidding, and it was completely inappropriate. She’s right. What kind of priest am I?
I just couldn’t believe that she was part of my church. Of all of the women I could have messed up with, I had to choose one that was an active part of the church…and it sounded like she’d been a virgin. How the hell did I not notice that?
Sorry, Lord; I didn’t mean to sit in the confessional and cuss. I didn’t mean to get drunk, and I didn’t mean to have sex. I didn’t mean to yell at the beautiful young woman that I’d duped into giving her virginity to a priest.
God, it just gets worse and worse. I had to talk to someone. I’d blurted it all out and tried to get some kind of sympathy from my brothers that day we had lunch, or at the very least, words of wisdom.
Once they recovered from the shock, Ryan thought it was back slapping and sordid details time. When he found
out I wasn’t bragging, he lost interest. Max just kept looking at me with that serious big brother look he gets on his face when he’s worried. I’d felt sick as soon as I said it out loud and quickly found an excuse to leave.
I knew who I needed to talk to. The one person who would always forgive me, but never let me get away with anything: Grandma. I spent another hour listening to confessions and then left and drove into Boston. When I got to Grandma’s gravesite, I saw that she had fresh flowers all over it. It looked like Rye and Max had been there recently, too.
“Hey, Grandma. I hope that you’re dancing happily in the Promised Land. I know if anyone deserved to go to Heaven, it’s you. I sure do miss you, though. I miss you so much that my chest hurts all the time. I don’t know what to do without you.
“I screwed up so badly. It’s so bad that I don’t know how to fix it, or if there is any way to fix it. I got drunk and I had sex…” I shuddered. It was the first time I’d heard myself say it out loud.
“I broke my vows and the sacraments, and not only do I have my Lord to answer to…but the young lady I had sex with, as well. I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t know how to explain to her that priests are human and have the same urges as other humans…but we’re not supposed to act on them.
“Now that I have, is that it for me? I can still remember how this woman smelled and the way her skin felt so soft. Her hair was silky, and God help me, but I loved the feel of it in my face. Please help me, Grandmother. Please tell me what to do. I’m so lost.”
I sat there for a while with tears rolling down my face I was waiting for an answer that wasn’t forthcoming. Finally, I told my grandmother how much I loved her once more and said goodbye.
With trepidation in my soul, I drove back to Lexington and towards the address Daphne left me. It was time to come face to face with the consequences of my bad decisions.
I hated to admit it, but the closer I get to being alone with her, the more I realize that the hardest part was going to be not being able to touch her again. She accused me of being too drunk to remember, but the truth is that the memory of touching her was as fresh in my mind as if it only just happened…and my fingers ached to touch her again.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
DAPHNE
I was a nervous wreck all day, but as soon as I heard the knock on my apartment door, I was tempted to run and jump right off the balcony. I was the one who wanted to talk…or I suppose needed was more accurate. I was hoping that by doing this, I could get him out of my system once and for all and then I could work on improving my relationship with God.
I opened the door and he stood there in front of me in full priest regalia. If I hadn’t already been intimidated and scared to death, I was then. I couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what he was going for, or maybe if he thought I’d go easier on him because of it. The only reason I was so angry with him was because he was a priest, so it wasn’t helping either of our causes for him to flaunt it. He smiled, and God help me if I didn’t feel it all the way to my core.
“Hello, Daphne.”
I stepped back and said, “Father Jace.” I emphasized the “Father” in case he was to forget again.
I saw him give a quick look around as he walked inside my apartment. It was as if he were checking to see if anyone else was there, like maybe the paparazzi were going to jump out from behind the curtains. It would serve him right if they did.
“Have a seat,” I said. “So what’s up with the garb? Did you think I’d go easier on you if you actually looked like a priest?”
He looked down at his clothes and then with a sad smile, he said, “No. I came straight from confession. Plus, if anyone asked any questions, I wanted to have a legitimate reason for being here. I’m officially welcoming a new parishioner to our flock.”
I rolled my eyes. He seemed to be entirely in self-preservation mode and it was ticking me off. What about me? “So,” I said, taking the seat next to him—I only had one small sofa, so it was either that or stand. “Do you do this a lot?”
His face colored and he said, “No, never before, actually. I was struggling with some personal issues that led to some doubts about my faith. I went to the bar that night to be out in my community and clear my head. I was hoping to remind myself how much I love what I do and bring myself back to my faith.”
I raised an eyebrow. “So what happened?”
“I saw you.” The look in his green eyes when he said that made me shudder. If he was coming on to me again…he was good. I felt my insides tingle and once again I had to put myself in check.
“I wish I could explain it,” he continued. “When I saw you, I had this uncontrollable urge to be with you. It’s something I haven’t felt in years, never since I’ve become a priest. I should have been able to control it, but since I also allowed myself to drink way too much alcohol, and although that is no excuse, it did lower my inhibitions way too much.”
God, I’m ridiculous. The butterflies were taking flight in my stomach, delighting in the fact that a priest of all people was telling me I created “an irresistible urge” inside of him. God, please help me.
“So what shall we do about this, Father Jace?” I was trying to sound professional but the feelings racing through me were touching places that they shouldn’t be and stirring up memories of our night together and the way he felt and tasted…and most especially the way he touched me.
“Maybe I should take this off,” he said, standing and unzipping the cassock. I watched as he pulled it off and then slipped off his collar. He laid them gently across the back of the couch and sat down. The cassock started to slip and I scooted over to catch it, realizing too late that it put me thigh to thigh with Jace.
He looked at me and said, “Now we can talk like just two people. I know this has to be hard for you. I’m so sorry I put you in this position, Daphne.”
“I just can’t understand it. I thought being a priest was a calling. Is it just a façade to you? A way to make people believe you’re this holy, pious man while you go on and live however you choose to when no one is looking?”
His eyes looked watery as he said, “No, Daphne, I swear. I have wanted to be a priest since I was a very young boy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. I love God, and I love the Catholic Church. I can’t imagine my life now without it. I’m here to find out how we can fix this. If my diocese finds out what I’ve done…I can lose everything. Do you plan to tell anyone, Daphne?”
I should…shouldn’t I? Maybe not. Maybe it’s as much between him and God as it is between me and him. As it was, I had no desire or intentions to tell anyone. “No, Jace, I’m not going to tell anyone.”
He reached for my hand, and I didn’t move it. The simple touch of our hands sent thrills racing through my body and caused me to have to concentrate on my breathing. His eyes locked on mine before suddenly his arms were around me, pulling me in against his hard chest and stirring deeper desires. His arms were hard too and strong. I didn’t know that priests work out.
I tried to pull back. I was getting too excited and afraid of what I might do. He held tightly, though, and the only part of me I was able to pull back was my face. Our eyes locked again and then his dropped to my lips. It wasn’t a priestly look at all, and I knew he was going to kiss me.
I should pull away. I should fight it. I just couldn’t stop myself; I wanted it too badly. I craved the taste of his lips. He lowered his to mine and crushed against them in a passionate kiss. I let my lips part, and his tongue snaked in and found mine. We kissed until neither of us could breathe and then he let me go and abruptly stood up. My head was still spinning when he said,
“I’m sorry. I have to go.” He grabbed his cassock and collar, and I sat there in a state of shock as I watched him go. I wanted him to come talk so that I could try to understand how he’d broken his vows and why he’d done so with me…but I wanted him so badly that I was ready to lead him right back into temptation.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
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JACE
I woke up tangled in the sheets. I dreamt of Daphne that night—and every night for the past two weeks. I still couldn't believe that I had the strength to walk away from her. Maybe I was still filled with the Holy Spirit, after all.
I didn't feel as guilty about my dreams since I couldn’t control those if I tried. I’m hoping that the satisfaction of being with her for those six or eight hours every night would be enough to keep me on the straight and narrow throughout the day.
In my dreams, we make love. I can feel her sweet lips on my neck and along the line of my jaw. If I close my eyes, even when awake, I can feel that first thrust. I made myself open my eyes again, but the longing and the ache in my core were still there. It made me both frustrated and giddy at the same time. I closed my eyes again…one more time before I got up.
I revisit the dream, replaying the memory of how her nipples felt between my fingers and tasted between my lips. I felt myself growing hard, but I resisted touching; instead, I just lay there with the image of her in my mind, and it was sinful, blissful, torture.
I opened my eyes once more. My body was heavy with want and the hunger for her ran deep. Untangling myself from the sheets, I did what I’d done every day for the past two weeks. I headed for the shower, turned the water on cold, and climbed in. This was both a temporary cure for my body’s lustful responses and a punishment for allowing myself to dwell on it during my waking hours when I am supposed to have control. I couldn't help but wonder if she dreamt about me, too. Are we really together in our dreams?
I stepped out of the shower, and as I dried off, I tried to refocus my thoughts. I was having coffee with Lily that day. I figured it should be fun, catching up. Once again, my thoughts returned to Daphne and the way I felt about her. I had never felt that strongly for Lily, and she knew it. I loved her, but I was happy with it being a platonic kind of love. What I felt for Daphne couldn’t be classified as anything other than a pure, raging inferno of lust.