Page 73 of The Temptation
I even managed to update all the equipment inside. New gear, a fresh coat of paint … the works. If that place can help even one kid the way it helped me back then, it’s worth every damn cent I spent.
I get a pang in my heart as I watch him shuffle towards the rear of the vehicle and remove a cardboard box from the boot. He’s aged so much in the twenty-something years I’ve known him.
He’s no longer the fit-looking, virile man I once met. Time has worn him down, his posture is a little stooped, his steps slower, and his hair more salt than pepper now.
I know for a fact that the strength is still there, but it’s quieter and more measured. The kind that comes from experience rather than muscle.
I start for the front door as he slowly makes his way up the driveway, like he’s got all the time in the world.
My hands clench and unclench at my sides as the tension builds with every stride I take.
By the time I reach the door, my jaw is locked, and the muscles in my body feel tight. I roll my shoulders back and crack my neck from side to side, trying to shake off the nerves.
“Romeo,” he says with a genuinely cheerful smile when I open the front door. “This is a day I feared I’d never see, but I’m grateful I was wrong.”
“Father,” I reply with a nod, ignoring his last comment. I don’t have the heart to tell him what’s really going on here. He probably wouldn’t go through with this if he knew thetruth. “Let me get that for you,” I offer, reaching for the box he’s balancing in his hands. I already know what it is. I asked him to pick it up for me on his drive over.
“Thank you.”
“Come in,” I say, moving aside to give him room to enter.
He’s dressed like always, wearing a crisp black suit and button-down shirt. The white clerical collar at his throat stands out sharply against the dark fabric.
His black shoes are practical and polished to a high shine, but the leather shows years of wear. The creases visible from long days, countless steps, and a life spent showing up for his congregation, the kids at the youth club, and for people like me.
He follows me into the main room, and once I’ve placed the box on the coffee table, I peel back the top flaps to reveal the bouquet of pink flowers inside. This wedding may not be real, but I still want it to be special for Lucia.
She deserves her big day to have all the trimmings. The church wedding, the lavish reception, the beautiful cake. All the pomp and fanfare that I couldn’t give two shits about. Deep down, I bet she would, though, and that’s what matters.
I’ve been to enough lavish Italian weddings—where money flows like water and everything feels larger than life—to know what she might have dreamed of. So, giving her this stripped-down version feels like I’m cheating her out of something she deserves.
Hopefully, one day her forever man will be able to give her that. The kind of day that women obsess about. The thought that it might be someone other than me feels like a swift kick to the balls.
“Can I get you something to drink while we wait for Lucia?” I ask.
“I’m good, thanks, Romeo.” He steps in closer and clasps a hand on my shoulder. His touch is firm but familiar. “How are things with you, son? Is that mother of yours still giving you grief?”
I grind my back teeth together as I search for the right answer. This is the part where I’d usually lie, brush it off or change the subject, but I can’t do that with him.
I’ve never flat-out deceived Father Flannery. I might have omitted the truth occasionally, but I’ve always drawn the line at lying to his face. Something about this man demands honesty, even when it’s hard.
“She got arrested a few weeks ago,” I find myself saying. “For possession and driving under the influence on a suspended licence.”
“Oh dear,” he murmurs, the corners of his mouth tugging down in concern. “I’m sorry this still plagues you. I pray for that woman often.”
I want to tell him he’s wasting his breath, but I don’t. My mother could use all the prayers she can get.
“I had the car towed and told her she couldn’t have it back until her licence was returned.”
“That’s good,” he says with an approving nod. “A sensible move.”
“Well, a few days later, she and the boyfriend showed up at my place trying to steal it back. Honestly, Father, I’m at my wits’ end with that woman. It’s getting harder and harder not to react when she keeps doing dumb shit like this. There are days I worry she’s going to push me too far and I’ll snap.”
Father Flannery’s gaze doesn’t waver. His voice remains calm yet firm. “That’s understandable. That woman has put you through more shit, as you say, than most people could bear. In saying that, though, I don’t want you to mirror that kind of darkness, Romeo. Please continue to shine throughit. When the world hands you hate, you give back grace. Not because they deserve it, but becauseyoudeserve better. You deserve peace. Who you are is not defined by what others have done, but by how you choose to respond.”
I don’t say anything. I nod, swallowing the heat in my throat as I try to remember how to breathe.
Chapter 15
