Page 154 of Divine Temptations

I felt something inside me unclench. I typed back:

Thank you

Fallout was half full, the way it always was on a weeknight—dim light, low music, and a haze of neon that made everyone look a little more tragic than they were. The air smelled of limes and old beer. I was finishing my first pint when Sarah walked in.

Her reflection appeared first in the backbar mirror—black eyeliner, neon red spiky hair, and a smirk that said she was about to make me talk about shit, whether I liked it or not. She slid onto the stool beside me.

“You look like someone shot your favorite demon,” she waggled her eyebrows.

I huffed out a laugh that didn’t quite make it. “Something like that.”

“What happened?”

“Jimmy,” I said, and even saying his name was a punch to the ribs. “The new guy from the other night at the Temple. He came over to my place today.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Ooh, the pretty one with the saintly face?”

“That’s the one.” I swirled what was left in my glass. “We talked, then we… kissed. And then he just—” I snapped my fingers. “Bolted. Like, had a total meltdown. He was gone before I could say or do anything.”

Sarah gave a low whistle and waved down the bartender. “Two tequilas, and two beers.” Then she turned back to me with a crooked grin. “I didn’t have a great day either. That guy I liked, Sam. Turns out he’s living with this girl named Annie, and was trying to hide it from me.”

The shots landed between us in a little splash of gold. The beers followed. She lifted hers. “To our fucked-up love lives.”

I clinked her glass with mine. “To disasters dressed as destiny.”

The tequila burned going down, and the beer chased it into something softer. For a few seconds, it was almost easy to breathe.

“So,” she said, after a minute. “You like this guy? Like, you only just met him.”

“Yeah.” I let out a slow breath. “More than I should, I guess. He’s got this way about him—like everything hurts, but he still keeps reaching for the light. You want to wrap him up and tell him it’s okay to stop fighting.”

She smiled and patted my knee. “You’ve always had a thing for strays.”

“Guess so.” I stared at the bar top, tracing a ring of condensation with my thumb. “He’s got ghosts, Sarah. Big ones. And I think I just rattled the cage.”

She didn’t say anything, just took another sip and waited for me to keep talking. She was good at that—leaving room for the silence to do its work.

I sighed. “You still have the email he sent to the Temple? The one from before the ceremony?”

“Yeah, or at least I’m pretty sure I can find it,” she drawled. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe I could reach out. Just to check in.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, half-smiling. “Just to check in.”

“Don’t start,” I muttered.

She dug her phone out of her bag and started scrolling. The blue light from the screen washed over her face. “Let’s see… here it is. Jimmy Harper, University of Richmond. Says he’s researching alternative religions.”

I felt something twist in my chest when I heard her say his name out loud. “That’s him,” I mumbled.

“Okay, hang on.” She frowned at the screen, thumb hovering. “I’ll forward you his—”

She stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening.

“What?” I asked, sitting up straighter.

“Look at this,” she said, turning the phone toward me but not letting go of it yet. “Look at his email address.”