"Mommy, I'm going to the chapel!" My voice rang out loud, almost breathless, as I hurriedly slipped on my sandals. I had just finished spraying my cologne all over my body, the sweet scent mixing with the crisp morning air, and tying my headscarf carefully over my curly red hair.
"Okay, honey. Make sure you pray for your cousin in the hospital. Ask God for His mercy," my mother's voice called back.
But Dianne knew very well that one of the reasons she wanted to go to the church was not just to pray. No, it was also to glance, just a glance, at the new assistant parish priest. Even thinking about him made her stomach flutter wildly. He was so fine, too fine for her peace of mind. Dianne hated to confess it, but she had many immoral dreams about him, dreams that made her feel like the worst sinner on earth.
"Forgive me, Lord. I pray," she whispered as she did the sign of the cross. Without waiting another moment, she rushed outside and hopped on the bus that had paused for her.
The bus screeched to a stop at St. Joseph Catholic Church, the same church where Dianne and her family had worshipped faithfully for over a decade. The memories of old priests carrying out mass filled her thoughts, until fate, or perhaps destiny, intervened.
Because there he was.
The Reverend Father himself, dressed in his garments, his gaze fixed on her.
Dianne's feet stilled. Her chest tightened, her lips parted, but no words came. What could she possibly say? Where was she even going? The chapel, of course, but her legs trembled as she forced herself toward it, her cheeks burning with a furious blush.
Her mind betrayed her instantly, dragging her back into the sin she tried so hard to resist. Him. His hand on her body. Him spanking her as they—
"Oh God," she froze, shame crashing over her. Her eyes prickled with heat. Quickly she muttered another desperate prayer. "I'm sorry, Lord. Forgive me."
She ran into the chapel and sank to her knees, making the sign of the cross. She sat, staring at the statue of Jesus Christ, trying to remember why she had come. To pray for her cousin, she reminded herself. To pray for healing, for mercy.
But no. The piercing eyes of the priest haunted her.
"Why? Why did he look at me that way?" she thought, panic twisting in her belly. "Does he feel the same way I feel about him? Or is it just my stupid, sinful mind trying to drag me deeper into temptation?"
Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. This is why handsome men shouldn't become priests.
"I can't take it any longer," she whispered under her breath, fanning herself with her hands.
Her phone buzzed suddenly from inside her little purse. Startled, she silenced it quickly, it was her mother. Other worshippers strolled into the chapel, kneeling and whispering prayers, but Dianne was utterly lost. She sat distracted, tormented, her thoughts a battlefield.
Hours must have passed, or at least it felt that way, before she forced herself to whisper hurried prayers, for her little cousin, for her mother and father, for her own dream to get admitted into her chosen college out of state. She signed the cross once again and rose to leave, making space for the others still deep in prayer.
Just as she stepped through the church gates, a familiar voice startled her.
"Dianne!"
She turned sharply. It was Joshua, her former high school classmate. He wasn't someone she was close with, but she recognized him instantly. He stood there smiling, waving, right beside the priest. The priest who was watching her again, watching her through those white-framed glasses.
Dianne froze. Her throat tightened, her stomach burned with heat.
"Over here!" Joshua waved again.
Her legs refused to move. Children rushed toward the priest, surrounding him, giggling and greeting. He smiled at them, laughing softly, so natural, so effortless.
Dianne shook her head, panic swelling. "I'm in a hurry!" she called out tightly, swallowing hard before forcing herself to walk away.
But then she heard it. Joshua's careless words.
"I wonder why she acts so weird. Even back in school."
Her blood ran cold. No. She couldn't allow him to ruin her name in front of the very priest she was crushing so hard on. She spun around and marched toward them, her heart hammering so hard it hurt.
"Joshua, please don't talk about me to him," she said, instantly regretting it. Her head spun. She couldn't even lift her eyes to face the priest.
She ran into the chapel and sank to her knees, making the sign of the cross. She sat, staring at the statue of Jesus Christ, trying to remember why she had come. To pray for her cousin, she reminded herself. To pray for healing, for mercy.
But no. The piercing eyes of the priest haunted her.
"Why? Why did he look at me that way?" she thought, panic twisting in her belly. "Does he feel the same way I feel about him? Or is it just my stupid, sinful mind trying to drag me deeper into temptation?"
Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. This is why handsome men shouldn't become priests.
"I can't take it any longer," she whispered under her breath, fanning herself with her hands.
Her phone buzzed suddenly from inside her little purse. Startled, she silenced it quickly, it was her mother. Other worshippers strolled into the chapel, kneeling and whispering prayers, but Dianne was utterly lost. She sat distracted, tormented, her thoughts a battlefield.
Hours must have passed, or at least it felt that way, before she forced herself to whisper hurried prayers, for her little cousin, for her mother and father, for her own dream to get admitted into her chosen college out of state. She signed the cross once again and rose to leave, making space for the others still deep in prayer.
Just as she stepped through the church gates, a familiar voice startled her.
"Dianne!"
She turned sharply. It was Joshua, her former high school classmate. He wasn't someone she was close with, but she recognized him instantly. He stood there smiling, waving, right beside the priest. The priest who was watching her again, watching her through those white-framed glasses.
Dianne froze. Her throat tightened, her stomach burned with heat.
"Over here!" Joshua waved again.
Her legs refused to move. Children rushed toward the priest, surrounding him, giggling and greeting. He smiled at them, laughing softly, so natural, so effortless.
Dianne shook her head, panic swelling. "I'm in a hurry!" she called out tightly, swallowing hard before forcing herself to walk away.
But then she heard it. Joshua's careless words.
"I wonder why she acts so weird. Even back in school."
Her blood ran cold. No. She couldn't allow him to ruin her name in front of the very priest she was crushing so hard on. She spun around and marched toward them, her heart hammering so hard it hurt.
"Joshua, please don't talk about me to him," she said, instantly regretting it. Her head spun. She couldn't even lift her eyes to face the priest.
Joshua looked at her with narrowed eyes. "You couldn't even greet the priest?" he asked.
Dianne sighed deeply, shut her eyes, and turned. Slowly, fearfully, her gaze lifted, landing on his smooth, angelic face.
Heavens. He was even more breathtaking up close.
Her lips parted, but no words came. And then, his deep, smooth voice filled the air.
"I'm Father Chris," he said, his eyes locking onto hers, refusing to let go. "My pleasure to meet you, Dianne."
Her knees weakened. Heat spread through her body, shame and desire colliding until she could hardly breathe.
And then, he leaned in ever so slightly, his words brushing against her like a forbidden touch.
"You look like a good girl…" His gaze darkened, lingering on her lips. "But something tells me you don't dream like one."
The air left her lungs.
Her whole world spun as her heart screamed one truth she dared not confess: she wanted him.