Chapter 38 - Reformation

 

Chapter 38. Reformation

Father Cullen

Back at St. Mary's, I sit at my desk. My hands are fisted together. My chin is braced against them. My breath feels shallow, shaky.

A clock ticks.

A window creaks.

My heart beats.

I stare at the wall and try to deal with all the ramifications of telling Bella I love her, then not hearing her say those words back: The ache in my chest, the white hot burn in the pit of my stomach, as I sit here, alone.

I thought telling her I love her meant leaving this part of my life behind. But here I am, back in my office, wearing a collar that represents ideals that I don't even know if I believe in anymore.

Of course, I had no right to expect anything from her. I didn't. I just wanted her to know. She deserved to know.

She deserves everything.

But it still fucking hurts.

I bow my head. I close my eyes and wonder what I could have said or done differently to change her mind about this… us.

"Fuck."

Promise you won't get in touch, okay?

The day is a blur. I go to meetings. People stop by. They say things, I'm sure, but I couldn't tell you what. Calls go unanswered, emails go untouched. Eventually, it's dark out, but I can't bring myself to get up and leave. I want to sit here and remember. Or reset the past two weeks. Something. Anything but face the fact that Bella's gone.

The door opens and Jasper steps in. He doesn't say a word, but he looks like he wants to.

He begins to pace. His head is bent. His hands are clasped behind his back. And after what seems like an eternity of silence, I give in.

"I don't want to hear how I have to choose between God and Bella."

He shakes his head and purses his lips. He seems worried. "No, I don't suppose you do, do you?"

"And I'm not gonna apologize for today," I tell him in no uncertain terms.

He stops and gives me a pointed look. "I'd never expect you to," he says. "That doesn't mean the deacons won't."

I'll deal with the deacons later.

"Then what are you-"

"You don't look so good today." He watches me closely. I know how I feel. I can't imagine how I look. I'm not sure I can bring myself to tell him Bella's gone.

He nods, thoughtfully.

"I didn't think she'd really go." It's like he's read my mind. As usual. I don't know what to say because sure, secretly I might have hoped, but it never crossed my mind she would stay.

"She told me she was leaving, but I thought maybe she was just saying it to appease me. That today would come and she'd find a reason to stay." He nods toward me. "For you."

I laugh. It's not funny though. "Why would she do that?"

Jasper takes a breath and regards me for what feels like forever. "Because she loves you, Edward."

"She-" doesn't. She didn't say it. She left and doesn't want to hear from me again.

Promise you won't get in touch, okay?

"If I thought staying would mean she loves you, imagine my conviction now that she actually left."

He's saying words. My brain hasn't caught up yet.

"Edward." He waits for me to look him in the eyes. It feels like he's not quite sure if he should say this next part.

"I only want you to be happy. No matter what that looks like."

A weight lifts that I didn't even know was there before. I feel the overwhelming need to sob. Or shout. Or curse. Something. So I take a deep breath like it's going to give me strength.

"There's something I need to-"

"I'm heading home today." He interrupts my confession. No, story. Like he doesn't want to hear it. Or maybe like he doesn't need to.

Like maybe he's letting go of something.

"Okay," I tell him instead. And then he gives me that look, the one that says he's worried, but that he's trying not to be.

"You gonna be alright?" he asks.

"I hope so." It's the best I can do, even if I'm not a hundred percent sure myself.

After a minute, he narrows his eyes as he thinks on it. "I think you're both gonna be okay."

God, I pray he's right.

"Counseling is always an option," he adds. "It could be me, or I can make a phone call on your behalf."

"I'll call you." I'm not sure I will.

Later, when I know everyone in the building is gone for the day, I pull myself up out of the pile of self-pity I've created and grab my jacket off its hook. I turn the lights out and head down the hallway, to the sanctuary.

I pass the pew where Bella sat this morning. I can almost see her smile. Then I pass the confessional where I first heard her voice, sarcastic as it was. I get lost in thought about how she changed my life that day, then try to swallow down the lump in the back of my throat as I remind myself she's gone.

Outside, I shove my hands into my pockets and immediately feel a tiny piece of paper that wasn't there heart beats fast as I unroll it. I remember to breathe as I read the note Bella must have slipped in sometime in the past day or so.

It's the end of First Corinthians, thirteen.

These three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

I couldn't agree more. The hole in my chest is proof enough.

xXxXx

Monday arrives and I don't have to guess if Bella will be stopping by for confession. She's long gone - in Minneapolis, or onto another city. She's probably getting ready for the next venue she'll be playing. With… Mike.

There won't be any flirtation in the dark, dank box this afternoon. No blasphemous innuendo. No tiny notes pushed through the grating. But if I sit here quietly, and close my eyes, I can almost hear her laughter from the other side of the screen. Or giving me shit about being too godly. Or singing my hymn.

I pull myself into the present, despite how badly I'd like to get lost in my daydreams, and remind myself not to be selfish. My parishioners need me.

With each admission of sin, I offer encouragement, I open God's word, I search for the right prayers. As I flip through the pages, though, I always stop at the same place - where three tiny notes from Bella reside.

I stare at the most recent one, like seeing her handwriting somehow makes me closer to her, wherever she is.

The greatest of these is love, I read for the hundredth time just today.

God, I love her. Keep her safe.

Throughout the afternoon, as I offer absolution over and over and over again, I notice I sound less like myself, more like the priest at St. Michaels.

I say the proper blessings, I give the proper penance. I tell them God forgives them.

But it all feels very bland.

I close my eyes after the last person leaves.

"I want to be your vessel, Lord."

The door of the confessional opens again, unexpectedly, and I finish the prayer silently. Let me be Your vessel.

"Bless me Father, it's been…" The man laughs from the other side of the screen. "Hell, I think I lost count how long it's been since I've confessed."

I grin because he's got the same attitude his daughter had the first time she visited me here against her will. "Hi Charlie."

"I thought this was supposed to be anonymous, Father."

"You're absolutely right. Sorry." I try to use a more professional tone. "Christ be with you."

He laughs again. "I promised someone I'd come by and ask forgiveness for a few things. I guess I should start with how I got my priest sloshed."

I can't stop myself from laughing. "I'm pretty sure he had a hand in getting himself sloshed, too."

He groans. "Yeah, well…" Charlie lets out a long, frustrated sounding sigh.

"In all seriousness, I wasn't there for my daughter like I should have been over the past few years." He pauses before adding, "I'm trying to do better on that front."

I debate what to tell him. That God forgives him? That He'll give Charlie the strength he needs to be a strong example for his family?

I go with what's in my heart, instead.

"She knows, Charlie. I promise, she knows."

I'm ridiculous, unable to even say her name. Not here. Not with her dad. He'd hear it in my voice if I said it.

"Thanks," he says. "So…"

Right. I almost forgot. I say the prayer of absolution, then give Charlie his penance for his sins. "Three Our Fathers. And… maybe call your daughter. For no good reason."

He snickers. "Will do."

I take a deep breath, feeling slightly better than I did before he stopped by. When he doesn't get up to leave, I wonder if there's more.

"Is there something else you needed, Charlie?"

"That was, um... quite the sermon yesterday, Father."

"What can I say?" It sure as Hell was, Charlie. It was inspired by God, but also your daughter. It was everything I've learned in my years as a priest and everything she taught me over the past two weeks. It was blasphemous and perfect, filled with passion and bursting with love. Just like Bella.

But I can't say any of that.

"You're a good priest, Edward," he tells me after a moment.

I hear what he's saying. It's eerily similar to what Bella told me on several occasions. But I'm more confused by the fact that he just called me Edward. Not Father.

"You're also a good man," he adds. Christ. My chest tightens and my cheeks warm. I recognize this feeling. It's the same as any time Jasper's told me he's proud of me, any time he's smiled when I've done exactly the right thing or said the right words.

It doesn't feel like I've done anything like that lately.

Shit.

I know Charlie's here to confess, but I feel like I have some confessing of my own to do, too. I just hope he doesn't want to murder his priest when I finally come clean.

"Charlie, I'm -"

"In love with my daughter, yeah, I know. You told me."

I'm taken aback. "What?"

"At the bar the other night," he reminds me.

I shut my eyes. Fuck.

Fucking alcohol.

"Yeah," he says like he heard my thoughts. Or maybe I said it out loud. Who knows? "It's a little weird, but I never really thought you were a normal priest. Anyway, these past couple of weeks, my kid's been happier than I've seen her in years."

"Charlie, I-" I look down at Bella's note in my hands. I look at Charlie's reflection.

"She made me happy too." I take a deep breath. "I love her. I love her more than I knew was possible."

"I know it's hard to let her go," he tells me.

Harder than anything I've ever had to do before. "Yeah."

I can barely choke the word out, and the confessional falls into a heavy silence. I'm not sure what else there is to say.

"You know, you remind me of this one priest Renee's Aunt Sylvia used to hang out with," Charlie says with a chuckle, like he's trying to make me feel better about it all.

It's working.

"Was she the one who was double Catholic?" I ask him, feeling a little less melancholy, a little more curious.

"I hear that's not really a thing," he says.

We both laugh. It echoes through the church.

It's the best sound I've heard all day.

xXxXx

Tuesday comes and goes. Appointments, drop-ins, and prayer meetings all keep me busy. Jasper calls a few times. I don't answer, but he leaves messages that encourage me to seek God's counsel. He reminds me he believes in me. He tells me how much he cares about me, that he's there for me if I need him.

There's a few more messages by the end of the day - from Alice, from Rose and Emmett. There's even one from Charlie.

I wish just one of them was from Bella, checking in to let me know she's all right. What city she's in, maybe. What songs she's writing.

That she misses me the way I very desperately miss her.

By Wednesday, I've read over the scriptures for this coming week's Mass so many times I've memorized them. I've attempted to write the homily three, maybe four times before finally giving up and heading to confession.

I shouldn't be surprised another Swan stops by.

"You're avoiding everyone," Alice says instead of asking forgiveness for sins. I'm beginning to think socializing during confession runs in the family.

I don't bother going through the motions with her. "I'm avoiding myself, Alice."

"Is that smart?" she asks.

"I don't know." I close my eyes and exhale. "I don't know anything, really." It's the easy answer, the one that lets me avoid reality. I can almost hear Alice narrow her eyes at me from the other side of the wall.

"I don't think that's true. I think you know a lot."

She's calling me out. And she's right. I know I love her sister. I know loving her wasn't enough. I know I have something I need to do and no idea how to start doing it.

"She wants me to figure out what's important to me. Besides her."

"And you don't already know that?"

"It's not that simple, Alice."

"Isn't it?"

I stare at the grate between us, thinking about Alice's complicated relationship with the church and how very sure she is about what's important to her, despite the rules. I think about Rose's situation then my own. I remember when I first became a priest, how I was so confident and hell bent on doing it my way. I guess hiding behind the walls of seminary, and then St. Mary's, I never had a reason to question much because I never really let myself experience anything outside the four walls of the church.

The past two weeks, I feel like I've learned more about myself than ever before.

When I stop to think about what the church has always expected of me versus what's really in my heart, Alice is right.

I already know what's important.

xXxXx

Wednesday night and well into Thursday, I'm swept up in a whirlwind of reading and research, phone calls and messages, follow up emails and favors requested.

I've asked Leah not to allow visitors, to re-arrange meetings, and only let calls through from a contact I've been trying to get ahold of in Europe.

I don't realize how many people I've been putting off until late in the day when she hands me the thick stack of pink message slips she's collected. That and the fact that Rose bursts into my office with Patrick in her arms. She strides toward me like she's on a mission, and she does not look happy. I push my chair back from the desk, surprised and scared at the same time.

Emmett follows behind her with a smile and a wave, like he's silently apologizing. With one look at me though, Rose narrows her eyes. Her expression softens a little.

She shakes her head in pity and sighs. "I probably don't have to ask why you're not returning my calls."

"I'm sorry, I've been..." I take a deep breath and run a hand through my hair.

"Yeah, I see that." She glances around the office. Scattered papers line the floor. Piles of books sit at the edge of my desk.

Emmett takes the other seat. "Studying for an exam, Ed?" He's joking, but he's not too far off.

"Something like that." I check my phone to see if I've missed any calls. Maybe from Rome. Or, by some small miracle, from Bella.

"I get it," Rose says. The way she looks at me, I know she does, without a shadow of a doubt. "But if you don't return our calls, you're gonna miss your own godson's baptism."

"No, I'm just-" I stop, unsure I heard her right. "My what?"

"I mean," Emmett puts an arm around his wife. "What Rosie's trying to say… ask, is-"

"We'd really love it if you'd be Eddie's godfather... Father."

And just like that, my heart lightens. Everything I've been consumed with for the past day and a half is forgotten. Godson.

"I knew it was right when I saw you and B-" Rose catches the look in my eye and clears her throat. "When you held him at Mom and Dad's last week. He'll be in good hands. God forbid, if anything happens to us, we'd want him to know the Bible your way."

"And we definitely want him to use birth control. I mean, when the time comes," Emmett adds.

Rose rolls her eyes. "You would make this about sex."

"Sex is important," Emmett argues. I try to stifle a laugh and fail.

Rose shakes her head. "And now you see why we have five kids. Anyway, it's not just birth control, Father. There are other reasons. Family reasons."

"Are you kidding? I'd be honored."

I break out the secret bottle of wine I keep stashed and offer a toast. It reminds me, again, of Bella and the night we shared a drink here and priested out together. Since that night, I've grown closer to her family than I would have ever expected. Being a part of that family, like this, is the privilege I didn't know I was waiting for.

"You want to hold him?" Rose asks.

I take a sleeping Patrick in my arms. "You sure about this?" I ask the baby. Maybe if I'm his godfather, I can save him from a lifetime of being called Eddie. It's worth a try, at least.

Patrick wrinkles his nose, and it's very possible he gives me the middle finger in his sleep.

Emmett chuckles. "Are you sure, Ed? This one's gonna be trouble. There's one in every family, am I right?"

There definitely is. I know which daughter would have been the "one" in the Swan family. When I glance up from Patrick, my eyes meet Rose's. She knows what I'm thinking, who I'm thinking about. She nods her head a little, letting me know she gets it, letting me know we don't have to say a damn thing about it.

"Oh, hey, Mom wanted us to invite you to dinner tomorrow night. Everyone's coming."

"Everyone?" I'm a little too eager. Emmett notices.

"I mean, shit," he corrects himself. "Sorry, almost everyone."

My smile fades. Of course she didn't come back. It was a stupid thought.

I set my wine down and try not to show my utter disappointment. Then I try to smile politely. A Swan family dinner wouldn't be the same without Bella there.

"Um. Actually, I don't think I can, I've got this… dinner with the deacons and…"

"It's cool. Next time." Emmett claps me on the shoulder.

"Maybe." I'm non-committal. He lets it slide.

"We'll be in touch about the details." Rose changes the subject as she carefully takes Patrick from me. Emmett sets down his glass. I finish mine off "Since I don't think you can officiate the service and also be the godfather."

"Absolutely, you have my number."

"Just make sure you answer this time," Rose warns. "You're going to need someone a lot bigger than Leah if you want to keep me out of here."

I hold my hands up. "Promise."

At the door, she stops and turns. "Edward?"

Her voice sounds so much like her sister's, it catches me off guard.

"What you did last week. At Mass. It was… pretty awesome. And… ballsy. For a priest."

Emmett grins and nods toward his wife. "What she said."

I'm not sure how to respond. I nod and smile. I'm pretty sure Rose sees the heartache behind the empty gesture. She quickly hands Patrick over to Emmett and rushes over to me. Then she wraps her arms around me in a warm hug.

"She felt the same. I promise."

xXxXx

On my way home from St. Mary's, I take a detour and pass by Billy Black's bar. The night I ran into Bella there, she made the most inappropriate comment about spreading seed. It gave me the most inappropriate fantasies about spreading seed... with her.

Randazzo's is lit up in the distance. The outside dining area is full of couples on late night dates. The best Stark verses Cap debate I've had in years happened there. The kiss we shared on our way back to Alice's apartment that night wasn't like the one in confession. I wasn't afraid. I didn't feel torn between what I wanted and what the church expected. I wasn't worried about what the church might think. I only acted on what I thought, what I felt in that moment.

I consider taking the subway somewhere, anywhere other than home, but all I think about is the ride we took into Manhattan. How neither of us knew how to act at first. How by the end of the night I felt more comfortable with her than anyone I've ever met.

How sorry I was it had to end.

Drink.

I laugh at how that damn game changed everything.

"Home it is." I give in and walk to the rectory.

It's dark inside. Quiet. Nothing like last week.

"You're not saying Mass?"

Up these stairs. In my room.

Against that wall.

"You're wearing too many clothes." she said. Before I knew it, we were skin to skin, connected on another level altogether.

"The bed's back there."

"But I want you here."

I close my eyes. I see us there - frantic, desperate. I feel her lips. I smell her shampoo.

I think about the lacy underwear and the black heels. Her breasts in my hands. Her hands in my hair. Those sounds she makes. The way I fit inside her. Just right.

Then I remember the look in her eyes when she told me goodbye, and I can't stand the thought of never seeing her again.

I open my eyes and look up at Christ, hanging from his wooden cross on the wall just above where we…

"I'm following Your path," I promise him, forcing myself to have faith, one more time. "I'm trusting You."

As I get undressed, I give the sign of the cross and say a prayer. For the congregation at St. Mary's. For the Swans. For Jasper. For me.

And then… for Bella.

"Angel of God, her guardian dear, to whom God's love commits me here. Ever this day, be at her side, to light and guard, to rule and guide."

It's an old prayer, the first one I remember my mother teaching me. It feels like the only one I want to say, over and over. Bella feels so far away now, but maybe this, somehow, connects us again.

I think about her laugh, her wit, her fearless honesty. How just being around her makes me feel like I'm a better person, like everything is exactly right.

In bed, I crave having her next to me, our legs tangled, fingers twined. Talking. Laughing. Tickling. Teasing.

I pull up YouTube on my phone and search her name just so I can hear her voice, watch her sing. Pretend she's here.

A new video pops up. Rehearsal Dinner. It's been posted by… Charlie Swan?

I had no idea the man even knew what YouTube is, much less understood how to upload a video. I'm blown away when I see it already has over five thousand views.

I click on the link. When the song begins, I fall in love with her all over again.

I'm in awe from beginning to end. The way she lets go of her inhibitions. The way she owns the lyrics, believes them. She was in her own world up on stage as her family watched. As I watched. The way her eyes fell on me when she was done makes me almost believe she loves me too.

I swallow down the lump in the back of my throat. This was less than a week ago. I had her here, in my fucking arms. Holding her. Loving her. Starting to dream about a new future for me. For us.

"Christ." I run a hand through my hair. Then I close YouTube and start to text her.

Hi.

"Wow."

Delete...

Hey. Ask me anything?

"Nope." Delete… delete… delete.

I try to find an actual reason for texting.

Just watched the best video on…

"Christ."

Delete… Delete… Delete...

Why is this so fucking hard all of a sudden?

I try again.

You'll never guess who came by to see me today.

I shake my head because it just sounds... impersonal. Delete… delete… delete.

Any dark, dank boxes out there in Minneapolis?

"Fuck." Delete… delete… delete.

I try for something more real.

I miss you.

But it's not enough, so… Delete… delete… delete.

Just thought I'd text to see if you're …

"Jesus." Delete… "Fucking." delete… "Christ." delete.

Then I find myself typing what I wanted to say in the first place.

I love you.

I stare at that one for a while. Three simple words. I've said them on God's behalf so many times over the years. And I meant it, every time.

But feeling that love within me for Bella is overwhelming. It's all consuming in a way that being a proxy for Him could never be. It makes my heart feel like it's going to burst wide open.

My finger hovers over the send button for an eternity. Ultimately, though, I backspace again until the words are all gone.

Promise you won't get in touch, okay?

Then I delete her number from my cell.

xXxXx

Friday morning, I sit in my office again. I stare across at the chairs Bella and I sat in the night she came here looking for some guidance.

From a priest.

A friend.

Me.

No matter how many days pass, how many Masses I give, how many parishioners come through the front doors of St. Mary's… or into the dark, dank... damned box... I'll never stop thinking about her. I'll see her everywhere. Hear her laugh. Feel her presence.

Imagine her touch.

"Fuck."

I check my phone. I swear, it's all I do these days.

I know I've got to do something before I lose my mind. Before I decide to do something crazy. Like find out where Bella is and fly out to her. Do the one thing she asked me not to do.

It would no doubt hurt someone. Probably both of us.

Instead, I call Jasper.

As it rings, I close my eyes, still not quite sure this is the thing that needs doing.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Don't answer.

"I was just thinking about you."

"Hey." It's all I can say at first. Words refuse to form. My chest refuses to take in air. My heart refuses to beat.

"What's up?"

"Can you-" My voice cracks a little. I clear my throat. "Can you get a priest here by tomorrow? To give Mass?"

"Are you okay?" His voice becomes urgent. "Do you need me to-"

"I need to go to Europe." It comes out before I can stop it, before I can change my mind. Before I decide to just keep calling and calling and hope I get a call back.

"That's great," he says with a laugh, excited. "I didn't think… but yeah, I'll have someone there tonight. I'm so proud of you, Edward. I'll get the paperwork and-"

"Jasper."

"Yeah?"

"It's not to lead the parish," I tell him before he can get too far ahead himself. There's a pause on his end, one that stretches out and feels like a lifetime.

"Oh," he finally says quietly. "Then-"

"I need you to do something for me."

"Whatever you need," he says like he has so many times before.

As he waits, so fucking patiently, like always. Finally I know this is what I need. And that this is when I need it.

"I need to go now."