Page 115 of Sins and Virtue

As she walked to her chair, she sat down swiftly, taking a deep exhale as she commenced, “We’ve never seen things eye to eye, Blair. Quite frankly, it’s safe to say, we might even loathe each other.” Well, she wasn’t wrong there. Actually, she could say that twice without a stutter. A sheen glint of humor shaded her silver beady eyes. “And perhaps, it’s because we’re more alike than we think.”

My brows pushed against the other. “How so?”

“Well, many people dislike others because they see those same flaws in themselves. And you, well, you remind me of a younger version of myself.” She leaned forward, brought her hands onto the table, and folded them.

Sarcastically, I lifted one of my brows. “I— I can’t imagine that.”

The corner of her lips perked up. “I was once twenty-two, you know, and before being Mother Superior or Reverend Mother, I had family, friends, gossiped about the next-door neighbor who got knocked up by the local bad boy, did my hair and nails, and wore very, very short dresses. Momma called me aputtanaonce, but I could care less. I lived a very different carefree life from what I live now.”

“Really?”

What she described was a different person completely from the one in front of me. Damn, it felt like a revelation.

She nodded, her gaze turning melancholy and bitter as she ran her prickly hands through her greys. “I was even betrothed to a man, a man I very much loved.”

My mouth dropped.

“Shocker, I know.” Her comment was sardonic. “But it's true.”

“Then what happened? Why did you give up everything to become a nun?”

“I didn’t. You see, I married that man, lived and tried to have a family with him, but with one bad stroke of luck, he went from a successful businessman to a gambler, smoker, cheater, and violent abusive piece of shit I’ve ever met. From love to hate to fear, I got to experience each one. I tried to leave and go back to my parents, but in my time, once you’re married, you’re married forever. No way to escape or leave. No one to support or confide in. So I took every insult, degradation, hit, and bruise… until…”

“Until?” She had me at the edge of my seat.

“Until I killed him.”

Woah, that took an unexpected turn, yet in this moment I felt more attuned with her than ever before. Because I knew what it took to kill… to save not only yourself but the one you love the most from harm.

“He tried to hurt you, and before he could do that, you shot him.”

“It’s true I can be a ‘bitch.’ I don’t trust easily, and I really have few expectations of everyone, but it’s because of what I went through. And that’s no excuse because at this moment I should be much more spiritually mature, but I fear I’m still the same girl who left her husband’s house.” She brought her hands up to her veil and removed it, tossing it to the side as a cascade of silver hair ran down her back and revealed a dented scar edged from below her jaw down past her clavicle. “All that to say, yes, I murdered my husband and ran to the convent, burying the sinister secrets I left.”

My gaze fell, sympathetic pity bubbled in my stomach. Fuck, all this time, I was wrong, so wrong. Maybe she did judge me but I judged her right back, not even knowing what she had survived. “I’m sorry.”

“What for? You did nothing.”

“I did judge you for being… well… a bitch.”

“I have to admit I haven’t learned anything else, but that will have to change.”

“Still, I can’t imagine how it feels holding that secret? Does it feel like he ruined you?”

“I kept the secret for nearly fifteen years before the unsolved case came to haunt me. The police said I was the culprit. However, I unveiled the truth with the scar on my face and a few witnesses. While the trial was unbearably long, I was exonerated not only by the law but also by the church. And although it was many years ago and it definitely stained my record, I refuse to be his victim anymore. I’m not. I did what I did. Wrong or right, bad or good, it has been a part of my destiny to fortify my character. And I accept that.”

I clenched my teeth, murmuring. “It’s easier said than done.”

“Now, there’s something weighing heavy on your mind? What is it?”

If I told her, what could she solve? “Nothing that anyone could help with.”

“Really? How about your son?”

Weariness ripped at the seams of my center, my weakness, my son. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Blair, I can see the affection of a mother. The way you treat the children, whether they’re from the orphanage or not, you hold them all dear to your heart, and that’s because you’re absent from yours.”

“How do you know about that?”