Page 109 of Forgive Me Father

A trio of women from the church approaches, their eyes lingering on Roman’s casual attire with an unsettling mixture of curiosity and admiration. Their gaze shifts to me, their disapproval thinly veiled.

“Ladies,” Roman says, his voice betraying a hint of discomfort as he keeps close to me.

“I didn’t think we’d see you at an event like this,” The woman in front says, her grin wide and deliberately provocative as she loosens a few buttons on her blouse. Her flirtation is as blatant as it is unwelcome.

“Just taking Eden out to reward all her hard work at the church,” Roman replies with a grin, his arm draped awkwardly around my shoulders in a gesture that feels more like ownership than affection.

“I didn’t realize you took your servers out for such things. Am I too old to redo my altar server training?” She quips, her tone dripping with double entendre. “I’m sure I know a few things about getting the jobdone—”

Ignoring the comment, I snatch my remaining darts and hurl them at the balloons with a ferocity that matches the anger simmering within me. Each dart’s sharp trajectory is a release of the frustration I feel, particularly the urge to make a scene in front of these women.

“Eden is doing just fine,” Roman says, watching me with a mixture of concern and appreciation as I retrieve his darts from the ground.

“Well, if you ever need anything—” The woman continues, her gaze lingering on Roman with unwelcome intent.

“He doesn’t,” I cut her off, my voice sharp. “I’m sure your husband is looking for you somewhere that’s not here.”

The woman’s head swivels towards me, her face a mask of shock and indignation.

“What—”

“I’m sorry,” I snap, my tone icy. “Are we really going to stand here pretending you aren’t staring at Father Briar’s crotch?”

Her eyes widen in disbelief, the stares from the small crowd around us amplifying the tension. Roman’s grip on my shoulder tightens, his own unease palpable as he takes in the unfolding confrontation.

The woman’s face contorts with a mix of disbelief and irritation as she removes her glasses, her gaze now fixed on me with renewed sharpness. She tries to hide a smirk behind her hand, but it’s clear she’s riled.

“I know you’re not speaking to me like that when your arms look—”

“What?” I cut her off, my voice cold and unwavering. “Like I cut? Newsflash: I do. Usually, it's to keep people like you at a distance.Are you going to keep pretending I’m wrong, or are you going to sulk away to the person you’re flaunting that massive ring for?”

The woman’s face pales as she looks at Roman, her shock evident.

“Eden, you’re being incredibly disrespectful—”

“Yeah, Father?” I retort, the words dripping with intentional provocation. “You gonna do something about it, or are you going to keep standing there holding your—”

Roman’s eyes widen, a look of genuine surprise crossing his face. He seems momentarily stunned by my audacity.

“Well, I’ve never—”

“Eden, come with me right now,” Roman commands, his tone shifting to one of stern authority. He steps closer, his voice low but intense. “We are done playing games.”

He grabs my wrist with a firm grip, pulling me away from the game with an almost palpable sense of urgency. A triumphant smirk tugs at the corners of my lips as we leave the gossiping crowd behind.

“No wonder David asked Father to get her in check,” I hear someone whisper, their words laced with the lies Roman fed my father.

Roman leads me to a photo booth, away from prying eyes. As he slides the door open and nudges me inside, I lean back against the wall, my eyes locked on him with a smirk of defiance. He closes and locks the door, a decisive click echoing in the small space.

“What?” I ask, my tone taunting. “Can’t I have a little fun?”

“Fun is exactly why we’re here, Eden,” Roman replies, his voice firm, almost reverent in its gravity. “Now, get on your knees for me.”

I study him with a mixture of challenge and curiosity, my mind racing as I weigh my next move.

“What I did was entirely justified.”

“You were angry because you saw the way those women were looking at me,” He responds, stepping closer. “You were jealous. Jealous of their gaze, of their curiosity about what’s in my pants. So why don’t you show me just how much you value what you’ve been given?” His voice grows low, a hint of arousal unmistakable in his tone.