The Consequence of Secrets - Part Four: A Priest Romance (7 page)

“You made me breakfast?” I say with smile, as I walk out of the bathroom, dressed in another feminine looking dress that I bought yesterday with Jules. I have a meeting with our family lawyer today, so I’ve dressed professionally in a pale green sleeveless blouse that is tucked into a black high waisted pencil skirt that hugs my curves and split seductively at the back up to my knees. I have on a pair of Louboutin pumps on the same color as my blouse and feel as though I’m currently the height of business fashion.

“Well, you rocked my world, so…” Braden responds with a cheeky grin as his eyes move over my attire appreciatively. “You look amazing today.” He pushes scrambled eggs from the pan to two white plates while still keeping his eyes on me, drinking me in. I’m doing the same. I struggle to believe this is all real after the nightmare we’ve lived through. He’s dressed in a sky blue business shirt with navy pants. The top button of his shirt is undone, and his sleeves are rolled halfway up his forearms.

Neither of us can seem to stop smiling. “You look amazing too, and I think we rocked each other’s world.” I take a seat at the table where there’s orange juice and coffee waiting then press a kiss to Braden’s lips as he places my plate in front of me. “Thank you,” I say in a whisper. I’m thanking him for more than just breakfast; I’m thanking him for everything. He’s the reason I have my life back, or any life at all.

He looks into my eyes, and I feel sure that he understands that. “It’s my pleasure,” he says, kissing me again on the top of my head before taking the seat beside me and picking up his knife and fork.

“So where are you planning to go dressed to nicely?” I ask, pushing eggs onto my fork and hungrily tucking in.

“Job hunting. I thought I’d go to the community college and pick up some course flyers – maybe see if I can talk to one of their career counselors.” He shrugs, and keeps his eyes focused on his food, and I can tell that he’s going to feel quite lost until he has a job to do each day. I imagine being a priest serving the needs of a community kept him incredibly busy in the past.

“I actually think you’d make a wonderful counselor. Maybe you could take a course so you can work with kids or something?”

I see something flash in his eyes as he nods then looks down at his food, and I remember how important his work at the youth center was for him. It’s such a shame that it’s open now, and he won’t have anything to do with it after his trouble with the church.

“I’ll definitely look into that.” He picks up a slice of toast and takes a bite. “What time is your appointment?”

“Ten,” I say, taking a sip of orange juice. “I’ll pick Jules up around 9.30 then we can go into the city together.”

“Will you be home for dinner?”

A smile curves my lips. “I love this,” I say, reaching out to run my hand on his freshly shaved cheek. “I love living with you and being normal. It feels like a dream.”

Turning his head, he presses a kiss to my palm. “Well, if it’s a dream, I certainly don’t want to wake up.”

When Emma leaves to go and attend to Williams’s family business, I gather my things and head to the nearest bus stop. When I get to the Community college, I feel my heart begin to beat nervously in my chest. I’m happy with Emma, and I wouldn’t change being with her to stay as a priest for the world. But, this part is hard for me. My path didn’t end at Emma, it simply took a new turn and now runs alongside hers. Together we need to find out how this new life works, and while I assume she’ll be kept busy with family affairs, I need to find something that I feel allows me to add value to the community.

Approaching the front desk, I feel my hands become clammy. I never thought I’d be back at this point – unsure of where to go next. The man upstairs is being rather silent on the subject, so I’m kind of going into this blind.

“Hello,” the curly haired woman says in greeting, her eyes moving over me lingeringly, and her smile wide. “What can I do for you today?” She’s middle aged, has a pleasant demeanor, and beside her is what looks like a worn romance novel with a longhaired couple on the front cover.

“I was hoping to talk to a careers counselor, or perhaps get a list of courses on offer?”

“Looking to change your life, sugar?” she questions, her mouth quirking up a little as she reaches into a drawer and pulls out a booklet and a form, which she clips to a plastic clipboard and hands to me.

“I already did that part. Now I’m just looking to live it.”

“Fill that out and let me know if you have any trouble. I’ll see if she can squeeze you in, blue eyes.” She gives me a wink and gestures for me to take a seat. Then I get to work on the form in front of me, answering the form equivalent of ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’

“Your father’s will states that his personal assets are to be liquidated and that each of you are to get exactly half,” our lawyer, Hugo Everette, states as he peruses the paperwork in front of him. “As far as the company is concerned, if there was a grandson, it’s to go to him but since there are no grandchildren…”

“Jules is pregnant with a boy,” I interrupt. “Daddy knew before he died.”

He pauses and glances at us over the top of his glasses, looking more like a stereotypical aging funeral director in his black suit and loose skin than he does a lawyer. “Be that as it may, the will states that if no grandson has been born, the company is to be shared jointly by his daughters.”

“I don’t mind if Jules and Victor run it,” I say, looking between Mr. Everette and Jules.

“No, Emma. It should be the both of us. We’ll run it for dad until we both have enough kids to fill it to the brim with Williams’s.”

Mr. Everette continues. “What you both choose to do from here is up to you. We simply need to honor your father’s wishes first then we can deal with any shared ownership or buy outs later.” He stops and looks at me. “We also have the matter of your late husband’s assets, Emma,” he says, knowing full well that I’ve only recently been cleared of all charges regarding his death. The mention of his things sends my stomach jittering about. It seems tacky to profit from a death at my own hands.

“Sell everything. I don’t want anything to do with it,” I state, my voice coming out in a rush. Jules places her hand on mine in comfort. She knows I haven’t been back to the house I shared with him since the day he almost beat me to death. Braden, Jules and Victor took care of collecting my things and cleaning up while I was in hospital. I don’t have a single desire to return to the place that signifies my hell on earth, my fear, my loss of self. I don’t want it. “Donate the money to the church.”

“Emma, I really feel I should advise you against that. Gabe McIntyre’s holding are worth well in excess of ten million dollars then there’s the home you jointly earned that could take the donation up to twenty million.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want anything from him. Let something good come out of his life. The church can put it toward fostering the youth in our community or something,” I state, and the moment the words fall from my lips I have an idea…

With a stack of course flyers and information in my hands, I leave the Community college after spending some time talking with their career counselor about what direction my career could take now that I’d left the church. I spoke to her about what I enjoyed most in my previous position and in the end, it seemed that Emma had read me perfectly when she suggested I go into youth counseling. I really think that’s where my particular skillset and life experience can be best utilized. I think I could really make a difference if I could focus all of my energy into guiding them. Perhaps there’s a youth center that isn’t affiliated with a church somewhere close by that I can work at… I don’t know, I just know that the possibility is there, I just have to go after it.

Needing to clear my head after all the information I was just fed about the college, I take a walk thinking about what my life could be like now that the church is no longer an option for me. In the distance, I can see the cross on the steeple, sitting against the blue and white sky, like a beacon calling out to every lost soul, offering them guidance. It saddens me that I’m not a part of that anymore. I’ve been stripped of my Catholicism, and in a way, I feel as though my connection to Him has somehow been muted as well. When I pray, I don’t feel His presence around me, and I wonder why he’d do this when he led me to where I am now – did I do something wrong, or does He just feel as though I’m all right on my own now?

Knowing He is fair and just, I can’t imagine that He’s left as a punishment, so I can only surmise that he feels he’s led me to where I need to be. But, why would he lead me away from him house? Why would he guide me to help someone when it meant I’d have my religion taken from me? I have faith in His guidance, but I am a man, and I do question His motives and long to understand exactly what he has in store.

Kicking a loose pebble on the sidewalk, the sound of it skittering along the pavement in front of me pulls me from my thoughts. I squint up at the sky, the sun beating down on me, warming my skin, a soft breeze blowing through my hair then I stop, because I’ve managed to walk all the way to the youth center I was helping to rebuild. The doors are open, and a group of teenage boys push through the door, dressed for a game of basketball then a mother exits, two small children are at her side, their hair damp from swimming in the pool. She leans down removes a pair of swimming goggles still on her child’s head.

I long to go inside. But, it’s church property and I’m not welcome. I just want to see it. I want to see the smiling faces, the kids and families in there having fun, using it for what it was meant for – an outlet, a place that was safe and fun.

A hand slips inside mine. “Why am I not surprised to find you here?” Emma asks. I turn to her, surprised to find her here beside me.

“I thought you were in the city?”

She smiles, her beautiful face shining as bright as the sun. She is my sun. She’s my everything.

“I was. Then I went and spoke to Bishop Riley. Then I went home, and…”

“What were you doing with Bishop Riley,” I interrupt.

“Promise not to be mad?” she starts.

“How could I be mad at you? Of course I won’t be mad. What’s going on?”

“I went there to talk about you. I guess I was kind of bribing them with money.”

“Bribing them?” I almost laugh at her audaciousness.

She shrugs. “I wanted them to reverse their decision. I don’t think you deserve to be excommunicated for following the path God set you on. I sat there, and I told him my story. I told him how I was being treated and that I was hiding it from everyone. And even though I kept saying that I didn’t believe in God anymore, each day that I went to that church, I still prayed for Him to save me. I still hoped that He existed and could see the secrets I kept and find a way to free me. I told him that God sent me you, and that you’re the only reason I’m still alive.”

“What did he say?”

“He asked me if you actually read the letter you were given.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to see the words stripping me of my duties.”

“Well, perhaps you should take a look inside,” she says, pulling the crumpled envelop from her purse and holding it out to me.

I take it, looking at it then at her and frown. “How did you know I’d be here?” I asked.

“I didn’t. I was coming here to speak to the Deacon’s wife. I was hoping to call you afterward and surprise you with some good news.”

“Good news?”

“Just open the letter, my love, read it.”

Swallowing my nerves, I slip my finger beneath the seal and tear the white paper along the seam, sliding the paper out. When I unfold it and scan the words on the page, my hand moves to cover my mouth as my eyebrows lift higher on my forehead. “I’m not excommunicated,” I breathed. “I’ve been laicized.”

Smiling, she nods and takes my hand in hers. “Bishop Riley told me that he believed that you followed the path God set out for you. He believes that God brought you here for me. He said that he didn’t feel that you should be punished for it. He chose to release you from your vows so that you could still continue to be the good Catholic man that you are. It also means that you can work at the youth center, which is what I was here to talk to Carol about – you can still run this place, Braden. You can still make a difference. You’ll just do it as a Catholic man now instead of as a priest.”

She pulls at my hand, leading me inside the youth center. Inside, the mural up against the back wall is more beautiful than I could have imagined. It shows the minds of the youth in our community from six year olds to seventeen year olds. It speaks of joy and gives the place a feeling of ownership from their age groups. Everywhere I look, someone is playing or smiling. Emma speaks quickly to Carol who smiles at me and nods then she returns to me and leads me to the door leading to the pool.

“They have classes here three times a week. I’m told the room is all painted and brightly lit now,” she says as we head down a ramp that has replaced the steep stairs.

The moment I see the pool full of water and shining brightly, a grin spreads across my face and emotion wells inside me, I’m so happy right now. This is exactly what I imagined when I came here. This place is exactly what I was hoping for. There are things I’ll miss about being a priest, but the fact that I can still go to mass and still work for the church in some capacity is more than I could have hoped for. We stop at the edge of the pool; at the place I held her and kissed her in the noise of the filling pool. I take a hold of her face, smoothing my thumbs across her cheekbones. “Do you believe, Emma? Do you believe that He send me to you – just like you told the Bishop?”

Her hands lift and she wraps them around my forearms as she nods. “Yes, Braden. I do believe. Because of you, I believe again.” A tear of happiness falls from her eye and I press my lips against hers, whispering that I love her more than I can possibly express.

“Marry me, Emma,” I say softly, resting my forehead against hers, my chest breathing heavy. “Marry me, be mine. Let me be yours.”

She kisses me. “Yes.” She kisses me again. “Yes, Braden, I’ll marry you.”

I kiss her again, hug her and promise her that she is my heart and my soul and that I’ll always be good to her.

“I know you will, Braden. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“And you’re the best part of me.”