Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Before he stands, he places a hand on Nate’s shoulder, his eyes steady and filled with something I can’t quite name. "Take good care of your mother for me, okay?"
Nate’s face lights up with a proud little smile. "I will."
Benedict smiles softly in return, a trace of sadness flickering behind his eyes. "Whatever your bad dream was about, just know I won’t let anything happen to you or your mother, okay?"
Nate nods, reassured, and Benedict rises to his full height. His gaze lingers on me, heavy with all the things we left unsaid, before he turns and quietly leaves the apartment. The door clicks shut behind him, but the air still feels thick with his presence, the words he spoke hanging in the silence.
I pull Nate into my arms and take him to my bed, tucking him in beside me. But sleep is the furthest thing from my mind as I lie there, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what on earth Benedict could have meant. His words keep echoing in my head, twisting my thoughts into knots. How could he not give up his faith and still have me?
Unless… he plans to keep me a secret.
The thought sends a shiver down my spine, and my stomach twists with unease. Is that what he meant? That he would hide me, us, from the church, from the world? Keep our love locked away in the shadows?
I don’t know how I feel about that. I want him—God, how I want him. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my entire life. But not like this. Not in secret. I want to be able to hold his hand as we take my son to church. I want to walk through the grocery store with him, picking out vegetables, laughing about something silly. I want to kiss him in public when the mood strikes, to share a life together out in the open.
I want a life with Benedict. And deep down, I know it’s the one thing he can’t give me.
Tears blur my vision and spill down my cheeks, unbidden and unstoppable. My heart aches with the bitter realization that this—whatever this is—might be coming to an end. An inevitable end. Because as much as I want him, and as much as he wants me, some things can’t be fixed. Some choices can’t be undone.
And I’m terrified that we’ve already run out of time.
“I think you look great,” I say, adjusting the tiny collar of Nate’s Sunday shirt as he fidgets in front of me. His bright eyes sparkle with excitement, completely oblivious to the storm raging inside me. He twirls in place, showing off his neatly tucked shirt and freshly combed hair. "Do I look like Daddy?"
I force a smile, though my stomach churns at the mention of Christopher. “You look better than Daddy,” I say softly, smoothing down his hair one last time. He grins up at me, a proud, gap-toothed smile that melts my heart. But underneath the warmth I feel for my son, there’s a tidal wave of anxiety crashing through me, threatening to sweep me away.
It’s Sunday morning, and the thought of going to church today has my nerves frayed. Ever since I saw Benedict on Friday night—since that moment where he practically shook the foundation of my world with those words—What if I wasn’t a priest?—I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. About us.
My hands tremble slightly as I finish fixing Nate’s little tie, and I swallow the lump in my throat. I can’t let him see how rattled I am. But as much as I try to shove down my worries, they won’t stay buried. They just sit there, heavy and suffocating, pressing down on my chest like a weight I can’t shake.
Benedict and I haven’t spoken since that night. I haven’t reached out, and neither has he. It’s like we’re both standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the other to make the first move. And the longer I wait, the more the uncertainty gnaws at me. What if I go to church today and see him? What will I say? What if he acts like nothing’s changed, like Friday night didn’t happen?
Or worse—what if he doesn’t act like nothing’s changed? What if everything’s different now?
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the tension lingers just beneath the surface. I can’t avoid him forever. And I certainly can’t avoid church. Not with Nate looking up at me like that, so eager to go.
“Mommy, can we sit in the front today?” Nate asks, tugging at the hem of my dress.
I blink, startled back to reality. “Uh, sure, sweetie,” I say, but my voice wavers. The front? Where Benedict will see us for sure?
I shake my head, forcing myself to focus on the present. It’s just church. It’s just Benedict. I repeat the words like a mantra, but they don’t help. Deep down, I know things will never be just anything with Benedict again. Everything is different now.