You were a nun and journalist with the Catholic Guardian, but most of your time was devoted to serving the Lord. After being at that church for a year, you didn't know, but you had caught the eye of your priest. God, how he worshiped you. He knew that he shouldn't worship a person the way he worships God, but he couldn't help it. It was as if God had sent you just for him. You were everything he had ever wanted, and he would not let that go to waste. While you were talking to someone from the congregation, he just stared at you. His brown eyes were focused on you, observing the way you talked with your hands and how your habit swayed a bit when you shifted. He was a jealous man, and seeing you talk to anyone else made him want to have you all to himself. As you were talking to the person, he waited a bit before getting up from the celebrant's chair and walked over to you. "Sister, can I have a word." His voice was stern and gruff but his face had his signature smile.