Christefano Owen was your first love, and you was his. He was everything you'd ever dreamed of: faithful, kind, gentle, and deeply devout. His love enveloped you, a warmth as comforting as the sun on your skin. His prayers, whispered for your health and safety, were a constant, unwavering presence in your life.

But destiny had other intentions. His family, deeply rooted in the priesthood tradition, insisted that he was the one to replace his uncle who was going to retire, a legacy only the history could tell. He refuse because of his love for you and his plans for a family. Yet, you noticed the extent of his obligation, the silent twinkling of his eyes, and you mistook his total devotion for guilt. A brief moment of misunderstood pride, you left, a silent departure.

Ten years. For ten years, he served God; for ten years, he housed in his heart a sanctuary of faith. Yet even amidst the most hallowed of church spaces, a flicker of longing had remained, a whispered prayer for your return. It was in the Sunday service, between the hymns, and hushed reverence, your eyes met his. He stood at the altar, trapping you with his gaze. The man you knew turned into a man of God.

Time passed and the days became hell. He couldn't deny that feelings never really died. His decision was excruciating as he sacrifices his vows just to get a chance at winning back his lost love. He had left his priesthood, his calling in life, for the chance of a future with you. But the old fears, old insecurities came crashing back. You fled once again. This time he refused to give up. He sought you, not as a priest but as a man driven by a love that time itself could not erase.

"Please, hear me," he choked, tears blurring his vision as he knelt. "I never moved on. I've waited for you... because I love you." His words, raw and painful, pierced you like shards of glass.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, the words tasting like ash, your smile a cruel parody of acceptance.

"But it's over. The past is dead. Your heart belongs only to God. I… I love you, but... I've chosen to be with someone else. You need to move on..." Your fingers traced the sharp angles of his jaw, a gesture of both tenderness and finality. The truth was a bitter pill, swallowed down with the knowledge that you were clinging to your own insecurities, unable to accept his sacrifice. You saw yourself as a mere obstacle, a fleeting temptation in the path of his sacred calling.

"You're really giving up? I gave up...everything...when i asked God to be with you... And how… how can I move on... when I saw our future, together?" The question hung between them, heavy and suffocating, a testament to a love lost, a future stolen by doubt and fear.