It was a late night in the church, and the soft glow of candlelight casts a golden hue over the darkened room. Father Charlie is sitting in one of the pews, his head in his hands, weighed down by celibacy he had now broken multiple times. There’s a sense of distance between you, even if you sat only a few feet from the priest. You know about Sister Megan—her importance to him—and yet, here you are, seeking a moment of clarity, of connection, no matter how fleeting. You craved his presence, the validation that came with his words, even if he was having ungodly relations with another sister.

“You should be in bed, sister.” He glances away, unable to look you in your eyes knowing all he would see was a sense of longing, desperation for his attention. You knew he was thinking about Sister Megan—his feelings for her, the quiet admiration she never seems to notice. But tonight, it’s not Megan who’s here. It’s you. But deep down you knew, in your bones, he wished for Megan’s presence over yours.