3. What Priest?

The Next Day

My phone vibrates on the kitchen counter.

I rinse my hands quickly, wipe them on a towel, and grab it already annoyed before I even read the screen.

I miss you every day, Simone. Please text me back.

I hiss and drop the phone facedown on the counter.

“Is he ever going to rest?” I mutter, picking up my knife and going back to the vegetables.

Across the kitchen, Gemma pauses mid-chop and raises an eyebrow. “Who?”

“Who else is a pest in my life?”

“Ohhh.” She drags it out. “I honestly thought you blocked him.”

“I did. This is the fifteenth number.”

“Damn.” She laughs. “He’s persistent. Maybe he really likes you.”

I snort. “Yeah. Liked me so much he cheated on me with my best friend. Romantic.”

“Okay—” she winces. “I’m sorry. That was stupid.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, seriously. I’m glad you left. Seeing them every day would’ve destroyed you.”

“You’re telling me.”

After my parents died, I thought I was okay on my own. I had to be. I told myself I was strong, that I was surviving, because I still had them. Aliya, my best friend and Reid, my boyfriend.

They were my family when I had no one else. Until I walked into my parents’ house, the house I let them stay in and found them in my bed, tangled together like I didn’t exist.

And the worst part is that I forgave them. Because losing them felt worse than the betrayal. And I was terrified of being alone. So I stayed. I pretended. I swallowed the humiliation.

But they didn’t stop, they just stopped hiding. They touched each other freely, looked at me like I was the inconvenience in my own life. So one night, I packed my bags quietly.I left everything behind and came here two weeks ago with one promise to myself, I’m starting over and I will do just that.

“Don’t worry. There are better men in Scotfield. You’ll meet one that actually treats you right.”

“Please, I’m not in the mood for any man.”

She smirks. “The one you were shoving your tongue down his throat last night would disagree.”

I didn’t tell her I had sex with him, and I think it's better I don't.

“That was because you dared me.”

“You could’ve taken a drink.”

“I didn’t want to drink anymore,” I say, then shrug. “And besides, there was a 99.9 percent chance I’d never see that guy again, so why not?”

“Well,” she says lightly, “the remaining point one percent is that he might go to the same college as us.”

I scoff. “Please. That man does not look like a college student.”

“Gemma. Simone.”

Aunt Jo’s voice echoes through the house.

“Come out for a minute—we have a guest.”

Gemma drops the knife and sighs. “Let’s go.”

My aunt and uncle are standing near the couch, their bodies angled toward someone standing opposite them. A man. I can tell from the voice, but he’s blocked from view by Uncle Ben’s broad shoulders.

Gemma steps in beside me, wiping her hands on a dish towel. I slow down, curiosity tugging at me.

“Who’s that?” I murmur under my breath.

She leans closer. “Oh. That must be him.”

“Him who?”

“The priest I told you about.”

I frown. “What priest?”

“Well, not exactly a priest yet but he’s staying with us for a while.”

I stop walking. “Staying with us?”

“Yes,” she whispers, like it’s obvious. “Didn’t I mention it?”

“No,” I say flatly. “You didn’t.”

She grimaces. “Oops.”

I glance toward the sitting room again. “Why is he staying here? Aren’t there mission houses? Or, I don’t know—church quarters? This town has like three parishes right?.”

Gemma shrugs. “It’s tradition here. The church places seminarians with families sometimes.”

“That sounds inconvenient.”

“You know my parents.”

Aunt Jo and Uncle Ben are deeply religious. Morning prayers. Evening rosaries. Church every Sunday without fail. Sometimes weekday Mass too. Their idea of hosting a seminarian probably feels like an honor.

“He’ll be taken care of better in a home,” Gemma adds.

“Great,” I mutter. “So we’re hosting a holy man.”

She snorts. “Be nice.”

Aunt Jo turns. “Girls, come meet our guest .”

We step forward while Uncle Ben steps aside for us to see the person and as our eyes meet.

The world tilts.

Tall, composed, dressed simply in a crisp shirt and dark trousers.

It’s him.

The stranger from the club.

The man whose mouth I still remember far too clearly.

For half a second, neither of us moves.

I can see the flicker of recognition in his eyes, the sharp inhale he tries to hide and the way his jaw tightens like he’s bracing for impact.

“Fuck me, he’s hot!” Gemma mutters beside me.

Is she crazy? Her mom can hear that.

“Girls,” Aunt Jo says cheerfully, unaware she’s standing in the middle of a disaster. “This is Reverend Elias. He’ll be staying with us for the next six months.”

Six months?.

Elias nods “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

His voice, jesus, it’s so deep that it vibrates through me.

Gemma smiles brightly. “Welcome. I’m Gemma.”

He turns to her, extending his hand. “Thank you for having me.”

Then his gaze shifts back to me, just for a second.

“Simone,” Aunt Jo adds. “My niece.”

My name lands between us like a loaded weapon.

“Nice to meet you, Simone,” he says.

Like we’ve never touched.

Like his hands weren’t on my waist hours ago.

Like his mouth didn’t make me forget how to breathe.

I force a smile. “Nice to meet you too.”

Uncle Ben clasps his hands together. “Elias is not just a reverend, he’s a professor and he has been transferred to St Francis college temporarily.”

Wait, isn't that Gemma’s school and where i just enrolled in.

“Oh that’s so cool. Simone and I go there too. Which department are you posted to?” Gemma sound too happy about this.

“Psychology”

I swallow.

“Oh my, that’s Simone’s department!” Gemma grabbed my arm tugging at it and leaned in to whisper “Lucky bitch”

Oh trust me I want to switch places so bad.