Running to My Sinner

“Oh my God.” Mom stepped back like I’d slapped her. “You gave yourself to a man? Was that your little 'retreat'? You let some boy inside you?!”

I already knew I was screwed.

I shook my head. My voice was weak when I managed to speak. “There’s no boy, Mom. I…”

I couldn’t even finish the lie. Kyle’s body flashed in my head: his hands, his mouth, the way he made me scream.

“Then it’s a girl?” Her voice went sharper. “Are you…?”

“What?! No!” I said fast, but too late.

Dad stood up, his face was red. I backed up, but he grabbed my wrist and yanked me into a chair.

“Sit.”

“Dad, please–”

“Shut your mouth, Mirabel!” he roared. “What the hell have we been teaching you?! Letting some man touch you is bad enough, but now you’re confused about your gender too? Are you insane?!”

“Let’s all calm down,” Father Michael said, trying to step in.

Dad and Mom sat, but the air was on fire.

Father Michael turned to me. “Mirabel, be honest. Are you sure this is what you want? Are you doing this for yourself, or because of them?”

“She wants this!” Mom snapped. “She’s been preparing her whole life!”

“She’s not throwing it away over some fling,” Dad added coldly.

But Father Michael looked me straight in the eye. “This is your life. Say what you want.”

My whole chest was shaking. Kyle’s voice echoed in my head.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t want to be a nun anymore. I… I love someone.”

Mom stood so fast, her chair screeched. Then, smack.

Her hand hit my face so hard I couldn’t even react.

“You ungrateful girl!” she shouted. “You would throw away everything for some trash? Who is he?! I’ll kill him!”

Tears ran down my face. I held my cheek, it was still burning.

“Mrs. Torres, enough,” Father Michael said firmly.

“How can I calm down when my daughter is being led into sin?!”

“I understand, but you can’t force her into something she doesn’t want.”

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I jumped up and ran.

“Mirabel!” my mom yelled. “You come back here right now!”

“If you walk out, don’t bother coming back!” Dad shouted.

I pushed through the doors and bolted down the hallway. My tears blurred everything. Their voices chased me, but I didn’t stop.

Because I wasn’t running from sin, I was running toward the only thing that ever made me feel alive.

Kyle.

I hit the courtyard, slammed the gate shut, and pulled out my phone with shaking hands. Then I called Kyle.

He picked up immediately. “Angel? Are you okay? What happened?”

“I chose you,” I cried. “They found out, Kyle. They slapped me. I can’t go back. I just… can’t.”

"Hey, hey. Calm down, baby. Take a deep breath." His voice softened. “Where are you? Tell me.”

“There’s a rooftop. Behind the old chapel. No one goes there. Please… come get me. I’m scared.”

“I’m coming,” he said without hesitation. I heard his bike start. “Don’t move. I’m almost there.”

---

A few months earlier…

Back during the parish food drive, Kyle was the last person I expected to flip my life upside down.

I was just a wannabe nun, hiding behind rules and rosaries. And Kyle? He was pure chaos. The type we were warned about. Dark eyes. Leather jacket. Way too confident.

Mother Superior kept him away from us. For good reason. He was her nephew... and trouble.

The first day he showed up, his hair was a mess. His jacket slung over his shoulder, and he looked straight at me like he knew I was his.

“Hi, beautiful,” he said, handing me a can of soup.

I froze. “Don’t call me that,” I mumbled. “It’s Sister Mirabel.”

He smirked and leaned in. “You want me to behave, little nun?”

He rested his arms on the table like he had nowhere else to be. Cigarette was behind his ear, and his eyes were locked on me.

“You’re too pretty for this place,” he said. “Bet you don’t even know it.”

I tried to focus on sorting cans. But he didn’t let up.

“You’ve got fire in you,” he whispered. “Wasting it here? That’s the real sin.”

I glared at him. “That’s blasphemy.”

He just grinned. “Nah, it’s honesty. Everyone calls me the bad guy. But I see you, Mirabel. I see what’s underneath that habit.”

Then, God help me... he casually palmed his crotch and rubbed himself through those tight jeans.

My eyes dropped before I could stop them. He was… hard.

And my panties? Instantly soaked.

I squeezed my thighs together, trying to calm the heat rising in me. I looked away, my face was on fire.

Kyle laughed, low and dirty. “See what you’re missing? Touch it once, angel. That’s all it’ll take.”

I bolted up. “Get behind me, Satan! I’m marrying Jesus!”

He just laughed again, deeper this time.

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