Page 4 of Forgive Me Father For I Have Sinned…7 Times

“Who are you?” I managed to ask, sounding too out of breath for my liking. It made no sense since I had walked to Church at a snail’s pace.

“Pastor James.”

“Pastor James?”

“That’s my name,” he smirked. “What can I help you with today…?”

My face flushed at the intensity of his gaze. It was the kind of look where even if the Church was filled with people, his stare would make me feel like the only person in the room.

What was happening?

I had never reacted like this around anyone of the opposite sex before. Especially not a Pastor.

I usually had this effect on guys, not the other way around.

“Miriam. Miriam Chiswell,” I introduced myself. “Are you new here, Pastor James? I’ve never seen you around here before.”

“I guess you could say that.” His lips curved higher, and there was a twinkle in his eyes. As if he was in on a secret joke. One that revolved around me.

“Where’s Pastor Clark?” I asked even though I didn’t care.

“He’s tied up with something.” His smirk turned secretive. “Can I help you with something?”

“My parents sent me here to confess my sins,” I said.

“Do you do everything your parents ask you to?”

“Hardly,” I scoffed. “It’s fine. I’ll just tell them that Pastor Clark wasn’t here and come back another time.”

“What’s the rush?” The young Pastor chuckled and pushed himself up from the railing. My eyes followed him as he walked around to the stairs, his steps down them slow and purposeful while he kept his eyes trained on me the entire time. “You forget that I’m a Pastor as well, Miriam.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I tried to dismiss him. “This actually works out in my favour, so thanks, but no thanks.”

I turned to leave.

“You said your name was Miriam Chiswell, right?” Pastor James was now standing on the last step.

I paused at his question and stared at him with a small, confused frown.

“I did.”

“Youngest daughter of Pete and Harriet Chiswell?”

My lips pursed and I felt the hairs at the back of my neck stand to attention. “Yes.”

“And you live on 5 Manton Drive? I believe that’s a ten-minute walk from here, right?”

“That’s right,” I murmured, starting to feel a little creeped out. “How did you know that?”

“Pastor Clark has filled me in on all histroubledattendees. I know all about you, Miriam.” His smirk grew bigger.

“Is that what we’re calling unreligious people now?Troubled attendees?” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to deflect how uncomfortable this new Pastor was making me feel. Mostly because he was super attractive and I was struggling to ignore that as every part of me was accustomed to being against everything and anything associated with religion and the Church.

“Why don’t we get in the confession box?” Pastor James suggested, already moving toward it. I had been in there several times before–my parents seemed to always think it would reform me, but it never did–so I was familiar with it already. However, it felt different this time.

I would be in there with Pastor James.

“There’s no need,” I tried to dismiss.

---