I Have A Confession, Father II
HIS voice was rough when it finally came.
“I’m not asking you to leave.”
She exhaled, shaky and relieved.
Their foreheads nearly touched.
A heartbeat.
Two.
Then he whispered, raw:
“What happens next… we cannot undo.”
Her thumb traced his knuckles in silent answer.
“I don’t want to undo it.”
The last thing he saw before his restraint frayed entirely was the look in her eyes— devotion, desire, ache.
Then he leaned in. Very slowly. Every movement deliberate.
He stopped just short of her lips, trembling.
This was where the rules ended, and this was where hunger began.
And neither of them pulled away. His lips hovered over hers, one breath away. There was nothing holy about this moment.
Outside, the last sunlight died behind the stained glass, turn
