CHAPTER 45

CHAPTER 45

EZRA

I nearly tripped over the step as I stumbled out of the vestry, tugging at my shirt like it could erase everything that had just happened.

Great. Amazing. Perfect.

I probably looked like I’d just committed seventeen sins in one go—which, well… I technically had.

My hair was a mess. My lips were swollen. My knees were weak. And of course, that’s exactly when Sister Bernadette walked past, humming like an angel on duty.

She slowed, eyes narrowing. “Ezra… are you alright?”

“Me?” My voice cracked like cheap speakers. “Yes. Yes, Sister. Praise the Lord. Glory be. Hallelujah.”

…What. Was. That.

She gave me this long, suspicious look before shrugging and continuing down the hallway. As soon as she turned the corner, I slapped both hands over my face and groaned into them.

“I’m going to hell,” I muttered into my palms.

I leaned against the wall, chest heaving like I’d just run a marathon of bad decisions. Which, honestly, wasn’t far from the truth. My legs were jelly. My brain was scrambled eggs. And I could still feel his hands on me. His breath against my ear.

God. Why did he have to be like that?

Why did I have to let him?

I pushed off the wall, straightening my shirt again, like that would fix anything. It didn’t. I probably looked more suspicious. Brilliant, Ezra. Absolutely brilliant.

“Ezra?”

I froze.

Lily’s voice.

She stood a few feet away, a plastic bag of snacks in one hand, a bottle of iced coffee in the other. Her eyes widened the second she saw me—my hair a mess, my flushed cheeks, the dazed look I probably had plastered on my face.

“Why do you look like you just got hit by a bus… or—” Her eyes narrowed. “Oh my God. Did you—”

“Don’t.” I pointed a shaky finger at her. “Not. A. Word.”

She blinked. “Holy shit, you did something. You actually did something.”

“I didn’t!”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re stammering. You always stammer when you lie.”

“I’m not lying,” I muttered, avoiding her gaze.

“Oh please.” She stepped closer, eyeing me like a hawk. “Your hair is literally sticking up. Your lips look like someone’s been chewing on them. And—” she sniffed dramatically “—you smell like aftershave and sin.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Please stop talking.”

She gasped. “You did. You actually did. With Father—”

“LILY!” I hissed, snapping my head up so fast it hurt. “Shut up!”

She clapped a hand over her mouth but the grin underneath was obvious.

“Can we not announce it to the whole town?” I looked around frantically. The street was empty, thank God.

Lily looped her arm through mine like this was some kind of rom-com reveal. “Okay, okay. Calm down. I won’t shout.” She leaned in. “But you’re telling me everything.”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“Oh yes you are. Look at you. You’re literally glowing.”

“I’m not glowing.”

She laughed. “You’re glowing like you’ve just been baptized in holy water and kissed by angels.”

I snorted despite myself. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Me? You’re the one stumbling out here looking like the main character after a make-out montage.”

I pressed my palms to my cheeks. They were hot. Of course they were.

Lily tugged me toward the benches under the big tree by the church gates. “Sit. Spill. Now.”

I sighed but let her pull me down. My heart was still racing, my brain a storm of Dorian’s mouth, his hands, the heat of everything. I didn’t even know where to start.

Lily stared at me expectantly. “So?”

I stared at the ground. “We kissed.” not wanting to say I had sex with a priest in the vestry.

She smacked my arm. “That’s all?!”

“Stop hitting me!”

She gasped again. “Oh my God.”

“Lily,” I warned.

“Okay, okay,” she said quickly, but her eyes were practically sparkling. “So it wasn’t you. It was him. He kissed you.”

I hesitated. “…Yeah.”

She let out the kind of laugh that sounded like a shriek.

“Please stop.”

“Never. This is gold.”

I groaned again, dragging my hands down my face. “I’m going to hell.”

“You’ve been saying that since the first kiss,” she said, amused. “You’re fine. Just… maybe don’t tell Genevieve.”

I stared at her. “Obviously.”

The walk home was quiet. Lily had that look on her face — the one that said she wanted to keep teasing me, but she’d decided to spare me. For now.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” I asked finally, my voice still hoarse.

She glanced sideways at me. “I could. I really, really could. But you look like you’re about to collapse, so I’ll save it for tomorrow.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

She grinned. “Anytime, lover boy.”

I groaned. “Can you not call me that?”

She bumped her shoulder against mine. “Nope. It’s too perfect.”

When we got to my gate, she paused. “Hey,” she said, softer. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I lied.

She stared at me like she didn’t believe a single word. “Call me if you need anything.”

I nodded quickly, eager to escape before she read my soul again. “Night, Lily.”

“Night, Ezra. And… drink water or something. You look like you’ve been run over.”

I flipped her off weakly and she laughed, waving as she walked off.

Inside, the silence hit me like a wall.

My room was exactly how I’d left it — textbooks stacked everywhere, highlighters scattered like confetti, my laptop blinking on sleep mode.

I dumped my bag on the floor, changed into sweatpants, and sat at my desk.

“Okay,” I muttered to myself. “Focus.”

I opened my laptop. Exam timetable stared back at me. Math. Computer Science. The two degrees I’d been stupid enough to chase at once.

I cracked open my notes and started reading. At first, it worked. Equations. Theorems. Algorithms. They drowned out everything else — Dorian’s hands, Dorian’s mouth, Dorian’s voice saying my name like it meant something dangerous.

Then, out of nowhere, I glanced at the date on the corner of my screen.

October 22.

My stomach dropped.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow was her day.

My hand trembled as I reached for the photo on my shelf — Mom, smiling in that way only she could. Like nothing bad could ever touch us.

“I forgot,” I whispered.

My throat burned.

How could I forget? How could I get so wrapped up in everything else… in him… that I forgot the one day that should’ve been carved into my bones forever?

The tears came before I could stop them.

At first it was just a shaky breath. Then another. Then suddenly I was sobbing into my arms, my body folded over my desk.

“I’m sorry,” I choked out between hiccups. “I’m so sorry, Mom.”

The guilt sat heavy in my chest. I had let her down.

I tried to focus again. Tried to read through the blur. But the words wouldn’t stick anymore. All I saw was her. All I heard was her laugh.

And buried under that — Father Dorian’s voice. His hands. His sin tangled with my grief until it made no sense.

Eventually, I crawled onto my bed, clutching the photo to my chest.

The tears slowed. My breath evened out.

But the ache didn’t go away.

“I miss you,” I whispered into the dark.

The room was silent. The only response was the sound of my own shaky breathing.

I cried until my eyes stung. And somewhere in between the prayers and the guilt, I fell asleep.