He released the fabric, and the space went dim. I thanked my lucky stars I wasn’t claustrophobic, because there wasn’t much room in this antique confessional booth. It smelled of wood polish and age, but the scent quickly changed to incense and spice and everything Caleb as soon as he took his place on the other side of the lattice screen. For something that was supposed to be anonymous, this didn’t do a very good job of hiding anyone's identity. Maybe that was because I knew it was him.
Either way, it was unexpectedly intimate, making me think of the other places you’d whisper your secrets in the dark.
Dropping to my knees, I positioned myself, my wet skin sticking to the leather kneeler and making a funny sucking sound as I got comfortable. Caleb didn’t laugh, but I would have sworn his lips lifted with amusement on the other side of the booth.
Clasping my hands, I took a deep breath and asked, “Okay, how do I start?”
“Typically, the penitent begins by saying, ‘Bless me, father, for I have sinned, it’s been however long since my last confession.’ And then they lay out the sins their soul has collected since their previous unburdening.”
I swallowed. “Okay.” Then I repeated his words, adding that it had been twenty-three years since my last confession.
“I can’t bless you, Sunday. But I can listen. Unburden yourself to me. Tell me why you look so sad.”
Here we were. The part where I was supposed to admit to all the ugly, horrible things about myself. Instead of being scared, I was eager. I wanted to purge this poison from my heart. I surprised myself by beginning way further back than I’d intended.
“I’ve hurt everyone I’ve ever loved, and I’m afraid of ruining everything now. First was my father, who chose the bottle over dealing with me. Then my grandfather, when I couldn’t be what he needed me to be. Then Kingston, when I couldn’t accept him. And so on, and so on. I fear that I’m destined to be alone. How can I be with anyone when I bring them nothing but heartache?”
“Why do you think any of that is your fault, little one?”
“I mean... isn’t it? I’m the common denominator here. All of them have been hurt because of me. Simply because of my existence.”
“Forgive me for saying so, but that’s pretty selfish of you.”
“Beg your pardon? This is not very priest-like of you.”
“Ah, but you forget. I’m not a priest. I’m simply playing the part for you. And while I cannot absolve you, I can offer you the truth. Even if it hurts.” He took a deep breath, then released it slowly. “Sunday, the decisions others make are not things you can be responsible for. You didn’t put the bottle in your father’s hands, nor did you set expectations for your grandfather to be anything other than what you are meant to be. As far as Mr. Farrell, I’m certain if you couldn't accept him, it was for a damned good reason. Your fate will lead you to where you belong. Trust and have faith.”
“Do you believe fate brought me here? To you?”
“I know it.”
His conviction stunned me. “Oh.”
“Do you doubt it?”
I reflected on my time at Ravenscroft and how I felt more myself than I ever had back home. “No... I guess not.”
“Then trust that you are here for a purpose, and everyone put in your path will be part of the plan.”
“But what if the plan leads me to disaster?”
“I don’t have that answer for you.”
I let out a heavy sigh.
“There’s more on your mind. Tell me.”
“I have to choose, and I don’t want to,” I whispered.
“Choose what?”
“A mate.”
“Kingston is your mate. What choice is there?”
My gut clenched. The thought of being Kingston’s sent a thrill through me connected with my wolf, but the rest of me cried out for the loss of Noah, Alek, and... the one man I could never have. “You really want me to choose him?”
“No. But I don’t have a say in the matter.”