All Chapters of Sacred Obsession : Chapter 1 - Chapter 7

I heard the bells before I saw him. The Angelus, echoing through Trastevere, sharp and insistent, like it had something to tell me, something I wasn’t ready to hear. I paused on the balcony, the morning sun drying my face, but all I could feel was the fluttering in my chest, an eagerness to be in church. Father Matteo Romano had returned. From Paris, where he was ordained a priest , from a life I only imagined. And now, he was here, in my parish, in the very church where I had spent so many hours kneeling, praying, obeying, pretending I was always in control. The news is already everywhere, and people are eager to attend mass because they'll be having a "new" priest, at least someone younger than the over aged one we've been coping with. Still standing on the balcony, I watched people hurry through the streets and blocks, getting ready for mass like it's Christmas or something. I’d walked these streets a thousand times. Every alley, every church doorway was familiar. Yet today

If anyone had told me I would spend an entire evening thinking about the way a priest holds a wine glass, I would have laughed in their face. Yet there I was. The parish hall glowed with light from hanging lanterns and tall white candles arranged along the walls. The long tables were dressed in cream table cloth, plates of nicely prepared vegetables and cakes were arranged across them. The scent of grilled turkey, Avocado oil, and red wine filled the air. It was a welcome dinner. For him. My mother made sure I put on something “respectful but elegant.” I chose a girly ivory dress that fell below my knees, it has a modest neckline and fitted enough that I had to remind myself to breathe properly. I told myself I dressed this way for the occasion. Not for him. The hall boomed with excitement. Parishioners laughed too loudly. Older women adjusted their dresses. Young girls whispeing behind their hands, Something made me so sure they were talking about Matteo. Everyone wanted a cl

The confession line was shorter than usual. I felt bothered about it. I had hoped for time; Time to think, to breathe, to reconsider. But within minutes, I was kneeling behind the wooden partition, the scent of incense lingering faintly in the atmosphere. The screen between us was carved lattice. A barrier that pretended not to be one, though it kind of boosted my shaking confidence. I heard him shift slightly on the other side. He was waiting for me to begin. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” My voice sounded steadier than I felt. “It has been…” I swallowed. “Two weeks since my last confession.” A pause. His voice came low, still deep but calm and familiar, "Go on." He knew... I felt it instantly. He recognized me. There are things you can't disguise... cadence, breath, hesitation. But he didn’t say my name. He didn’t acknowledge it. He was just professional and disciplined. That almost hurt more. “I’ve been struggling with… thoughts,”

"It wasn’t supposed to matter".That was the lie I told myself as I stood near the chapel steps, laughing at something Benjamin had just said.Benjamin is a bit older than I.Fine art student. Quite handsome and charming. Recently returned from Milan. His mother had practically shoved him into church activities after deciding he needed “spiritual grounding.”Which meant he had been assigned to assist with youth outreach.Which meant he now stood very close to me.“I’m serious,” he said, smiling down at me. “If you keep organizing hymnals this precisely, the Vatican will recruit you.”I laughed.And this time, I didn’t restrain it.I let it be easy and light; Because for the first time in weeks, I was tired of feeling heavy.Tired of sermons that felt like warnings.Tired of being watched and avoided in the same breath.If Father Matteo wanted distance, I would live in it comfortably.Benjamin leaned casually against the stone pillar beside me. “Have you’ve known Father Matteo long?”