Page 103 of Savior

He scrubs his hands over his face and groans. It’s laced with so much tension and strain, but it makes my stomach thrum at the sound.

Half of me wants to point out that he can be with me if he leaves the church.

But the other half argues that it’s wrong to think that way, let alone speak it to life.

I’m everything that a Catholic priest should steer clear of: a sin walking on high heels, with a sashay in her hips and sass oozing from her lips.

“The church has been my life for as long as I can remember,” he says, uncovering his face.

“Why did you become a priest?” I ask, and for someone so studied and at ease speaking about the hard shit in life, you’d think he’d have been reflective enough to tell me immediately.

But instead, he grapples with the question before sitting back on the floor.

I feel the distance he’s created between us like a blade sinking into my flesh.

“I used to think it was because I idolized the sense of peace Father Victor had. I’d watch him during Mass when I should’ve been paying attention to scripture. He had this sure way hemoved and spoke like he knew something we didn’t. Like God touched him and placed him on the apse to speakHismessage to the flock. I thought I wanted to be like him. To be the man others turned to when they were straying off their path. But now, I don’t know. Looking back, hindsight being what it is, I don’t know what I was trying to prove or to whom I was trying to prove it. Now, it feels like I gave half my life to a god who doesn’t care about us.”

His words were heavy; it felt like a weight bearing on me from above.

“I don’t think he doesn’t care.”

Luca looks at me, blinking as if he heard me wrong. “You have enough testimony to the opposite, Sloane, so forgive me if I’m shocked.”

“Believe me, I’ve seen a lot of the dark shit in this world. There are a lot of things he could clean up. I’ve spent half my life believing he didn’t care. But then I met you, met Dante, met Ardesia…”

“None of us are men God would find worthy, I don’t think. I used to be. But I couldn’t look away from what he was letting happen in my city. In my home.”

I lick my lips, trying to find the words to explain my meaning. “But if you look hard enough, he is doing something. You saved those women and probably saved more women afterward, right? You, Ardesia, and Dante seem much closer than one night breaking into an abandoned warehouse. You kept going. Even though it broke your vows, you did what was right. He shines through those people. The ones righteous enough to do the things that he can’t. But what we see, what we focus on, is the bad—the dark shit. The dark will always seem to blanket the light because it’s the loudest. If you look, however, trulylook,I think you’ll seeHispresence.”

Luca opens his mouth and shuts it again as if words fail him.

“Sorry, I think this cabin is getting to me,” I say, trying to account for how sappy I just sounded defending a god that I thought for the longest time had forgotten me.

“It’s not the cabin, little dove. You’re right. I think you’ve been placed in my path on purpose.”

I knit my brows. “How so?”

“I was wavering in my faith before I knew you were missing, before I made a move to get you back. I askedHimin prayer after prayer to clarify where I belonged. You’re that prayer come to life.”

“But what does that mean, though?” I ask him, sitting up straighter as my heart thunders.

“It means I have a choice. You might be the fork in the road on my journey. He won’t choose for me; I’ll have to choose myself.”

I swallow.

Outside of the cabin, the world is spinning on without us, and much heavier shit is happening than what’s between us right now. This, however, feels like one of those profound, defining moments he and I discussed only moments ago.

And not knowing how things will go is going to gnaw at me.

I sneeze, breaking the moment between as Luca’s face warms.

“Bless you,” he says, and I can’t deny how much more it means coming from him.

“Thank you.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

LUCA

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