Page 2 of Forgive Me, Father

“I fell behind because I was working extra hours at the book shop.” I sigh. “I should’ve managed my time better.”

He makes a soft, low sound, a sympathetic hum. “It’s important to be truthful, Olivia, but I understand that you’re under a lot of pressure, working and going to school and being responsible for your brother.” There’s a pause. “What else?”

I hesitate before confessing, biting my lip. Father Thorne shifts on the other side of the screen. “I took the Lord’s name in vain. I missed my bus and I swore.”

He chuckles softly, and I feel that sound like a caress against my skin. “We all have moments of frustration. God understands that.” He pushes a hand through his hair, dislodging that tendril I want to smooth away from his forehead. “Is there anything else you’d like to confess?”

I lick my lips again, shifting on the bench. “I’ve had…impure thoughts about a man,” I whisper. I’ve never confessed this to him before.

His breath hitches. There’s a pause. The wood on his side of the confessional creaks. “Can you tell me more about that?”

My face is hot, and I’m glad he can’t see me blushing like a tomato right now. I don’t know why I’m telling him this. I never bring this up during my weekly confession. And yet, I can’t stop myself from talking. “I’ve thought about…being with someone. In a sexual way.”

He clears his throat, and when he starts talking again, there’s a huskiness to his voice that I’ve never heard before. “That’s natural. Why do you consider these thoughts impure?”

I squirm on the bench, clasping my hands tightly together.

I feel like I’m about to fly apart. Why did I bring this up?

What’s wrong with me? “Because they’re detailed.

Intimate. I imagine…” When I trail off, he shifts closer, so close that his face is right next to mine through the screen.

I can smell his minty breath with every exhale.

“I imagine what it would feel like,” I whisper. “To be touched. To be…taken. By a man.”

“I see.” His voice is careful, controlled. “And these thoughts, are they about someone in particular?”

I can’t tell him the truth. I can’t admit that he’s the star of every single fantasy I’ve ever had. “Just…someone I can’t have,” I say softly, wondering if God will strike me down for telling a lie of omission during confession.

“And what do you imagine doing with this person?” he asks, his voice low and raw.

I close my eyes, the images vivid in my mind.

“I imagine his hands on me. Touching me. The weight of his body on mine. The feel of his skin against mine. I imagine…” I swallow hard.

My mouth is dry, my breathing shaky. “I imagine the way he would move inside me. The sounds he would make. The way he would make me feel.”

My entire body is aflame with shame and need and desperation.

“Olivia,” he says, his voice rasping over me like dark silk. “You haven’t done anything wrong. For many people, sex is a natural part of life.”

“But not for you,” I blurt and oh God, swallow me up whole right now. I clamp my mouth shut, my cheeks burning. I can’t believe I just said that. What is wrong with me today? Seriously.

There’s a pause. A heavy, loaded silence where the air between us seems to thicken. His eyes meet mine through the screen, and there’s an intensity there that makes my heart pound and my hands shake. I’ve never seen that expression on his face before.

“That’s true,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t have…thoughts.”

My breath catches in my throat. I can’t look away from him. I feel like a penitent worshipping at the altar of something sacred as I stare into his piercing blue eyes.

He clears his throat, glancing away. “Is there anything else you’d like to confess, Olivia?”

I hesitate, twisting my fingers together in my lap. I’ve already said too much, but right now, in this moment, I want to tell him. I can trust him with my darkest secret. He’s the only person on the planet who makes me feel safe enough to share it.

“There is something,” I say, my voice quiet. “I haven’t done it yet, but I’m considering doing something undoubtedly sinful.”

He shifts on the other side of the booth, and I can see his brows knit together and his mouth flatten into a thin line. “What is it?”

My tongue feels like it’s glued to the roof of my mouth, and I struggle to speak. I struggle to breathe. Do I want him to talk me out of it? Preemptively forgive me? I don’t know. I clasp and unclasp my sweaty hands. The words feel stuck in my throat, but I drag them out.

“My brother’s in trouble. Bad trouble.” I take a deep breath. “I need to come up with a lot of money to help him, so I’ve decided…to auction off my virginity.”

Silence fills the confessional, thick and heavy. I can see a muscle in his jaw jump, hear him shift, the wood creaking loudly beneath him. “I’m going to need you to explain this to me, angel.” He clears his throat. “Olivia. Sorry. Olivia.”

Did he just call me angel?

Not on purpose, I’m sure.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Alessandro…he’s in trouble. He owes money to some bad people. Like, mafia people. They’re gambling debts.” I look down at my hands, slipping them under my thighs so I’ll stop fidgeting. “It’s a lot of money.”

Father Thorne is silent, listening. I can feel his eyes on me through the screen.

“I heard about this site,” I continue, my voice low, wobbly.

“They facilitate the…exchange of sexual services. Everything from pictures to auctions for various…things. Women can auction themselves off to the highest bidder.” I swallow hard.

My mouth is like ash. “The man who wins will get to take my virginity. In exchange, I’ll make enough money to keep Alessandro safe. ”

He inhales sharply, and I can’t bring myself to look at him. I don’t think I can handle the disappointment I’m sure I’ll see in his eyes.

“I don’t have a choice,” I say, my voice cracking, and I realize it’s true.

On the way here, I agonized over if I was going to do it.

But now I see that I have to. There’s no other way.

“They’re going to hurt him, maybe even kill him if I can’t come up with $50,000.

He’s all I have left. I can’t lose him, too.

” Tears start slipping down my cheeks. I brush them away, but more fall.

“I tried getting a loan from the bank, but they denied me. I have student loans. I don’t have a car.

I don’t have anything worth even a few thousand, never mind fifty thousand. I don’t know what else to do.”

My chest heaves and I cover my face with my hands as I cry softly, holding my breath to stifle my sobs. I can hear Father Thorne’s breathing, feel his presence, strong and comforting. He’s silent for several moments as I struggle to pull myself together.

When I look up, I meet his gaze through the screen. His eyes are filled with an intensity I’ve never seen before.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to drag you into my problems. I just…I don’t have anyone else to talk to.”

“No, you did right coming to me.” He leans forward, pressing his forehead to the screen. I do the same, needing the connection. “Don’t do it,” he whispers, his voice rough. “I’ll find another way. Just…don’t give yourself to a stranger. You deserve better than that, angel.”

My throat goes thick and achy with emotion, and more tears spill down my cheeks.

“No one’s ever said that to me. That I deserve better than…what I’ve been given.”

Our eyes meet, and his piercing blues are fierce. “We’ll find another way.”

I shake my head sadly. “There is no other way, Father. Believe me, I wish there was.”

“I can make this disappear, Olivia. You don’t have to do this. Just say the word, and I’ll help you.”

Another silence hangs between us, heavy with things both said and unsaid.

“What’s my penance?” I ask quietly, and he shakes his head.

“I think you’re more than sorry enough to satisfy God. Just…don’t do it. Please.”

I shake my head. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, and I’m not sure who I’m talking to—God, or Father Thorne. Both, I guess. “Thank you.”

I slip out of the booth without waiting for him to absolve me of my sins.