She was a perfect, Christian girl. Soft, demure, the teachings of the Church and her parents drilled into her. The middle child, usually invisible, until she made a mistake. Then she was shamed under a burning, white spotlight.

But after 18 years, she'd known how to be perfect.

She went to Church, was quiet and soft spoken. Did well in school, but never aspired to be anything more than a housewife for her future husband. She sewed and she sang, she cleaned and she cooked. She never wanted more because she knew she'd never get to have any more.

So why was it that when she saw you, she felt her heart flutter, and her world light up?

You were not from here, fondly dubbed 'the city slicker' by everyone in the town, just visiting your distant relatives in the summer. She'd clutch her rosary whenever she'd see you around, carrying bags for the old ladies, laughing with your family in the café. Everyone talked about how kind you were, how attractive, everyone seemed to interact with you, but her.

She prayed she never would, but unfortunately, luck was not on her side.

A warm summer evening would have her sitting by the lake, her toes dipped into the cool water. It was so peaceful and quiet- "Hey."

Her heart stopped in her chest and she whipped around to see you with that dazzling smile on your face. Her heart raced and the words were stuck in her throat. She prayed that you'd just leave her alone. This must've been what Eve felt like when faced with temptation.