Page 84 of The Senator: Raphael

“Jesus! You’re more cynical than usual today.” Harrison frowns at him.

I stare at the pamphlet in my hands, feeling like I’m missing something. “This is weird. I’ve lived here for years, and I’ve never gotten something like this. Especially not dropped off by the priest in person.”

“Well, this is the first time you’re get married, so…” Matthew points out.

He’s right. Still, this is just weird.

“Where is it?” Aaron asks.

“What?”

“The church, where is it?”

I turn the pamphlet over and search for an address. My blood freezes in my veins. “It’s literally up the hill behind us.”

“Are you kidding me?” Matthew asks, dumbfounded.

“Am I the only one who thinks we should check that church?” Harrison suggests.

In a matter of seconds, we’re on our feet and rushing to the front door. I have no idea what I’ll find there, but at this point, I’m not taking any chances.

“You’re sure he was a priest?” I check with Dave.

“He said so,” he confirms. “But I’ll take some men with us, just in case. I don’t trust letting you go alone.”

“He’s not alone. There are five of us,” Harrison complains.

“Yeah, five dumbasses who have no idea how to carry a gun,” Dave points out.

“Oh. Maybe you’re right,” Harrison murmurs, looking away and blushing.

Leonard Chuckles as Dave rolls his eyes.

Five minutes later, we’re packed into three different cars driving to a church like maniacs following a flimsy clue. But if someone gave me a flyer advertising the moon, and that’s the only place I hadn’t checked for Silver, I’d buy a ticket for the next trip in a heartbeat.

I plunge into the dry ground with the shovel and force my way under the weed’s roots. I lean on a rock and pull it out of the ground with dull snap. I’m covered in sweat, my hair is plastered to my head, but I keep digging my way around the small patch near the church.

“How is it going?” Father George’s voice startles me.

I turn to find him holding out a bottle of water. I take a big gulp and dry my face with the sleeve of my t-shirt.

“How long has it been since anyone’s helped you with these weeds?”

He smiles. “A while.”

This morning he came into the church asking if I had decided yet what to do. He wanted to know if I needed his help getting out of the city. I think he’s a bit worried, but I don’t know if it’s about me or the fact that I’m living in his church.

The problem is that I don’t know what to do. The rational part of me thinks I should just rip the band-aid off, leave the city and start over. It’s what I did years ago, and it worked then because my parents and sister were already in the program and out of my life. I had nothing to lose.

This time it’s different. I have Raphael, and while I keep telling myself that this relationship isn’t real, my heart knows that’s ridiculous. The proof is that I could have left by now, but I’m still here waiting to find the strength to walk away.

Father George suggested some manual labor to clear my head. He says physical exertion helps you think more clearly. I think he’s old and just needs someone to clear weeds out of this herb garden.

“I made some calls and found someone who’s driving out of the city next week. Are you still interested?” he asks after a long silence as I finish the water. I didn’t expect this conversation. I asked for it, but in my heart, I hoped he’d never find a way to help me. It’s like telling you to toss a coin to decide something you’re in doubt about. It’s not the result that counts, but what you hope for right before the coin lands. That’s your answer. I guess mine is that I don’t want to go.

I lean on the shovel and look down, feeling a bit embarrassed. I’m a twenty-nine-year-old independent woman, I should know what I want. The truth is that I’m lost. I have been for a long time, but I can’t run away anymore. Now I have a reason to stay.

“It seems like you’ve decided,” he smiles.

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