Elena;
More silence. Then, so quietly I almost didn't hear it: "You're not wrong."
My entire body went hot. "Then why are we pretending? Why are we sitting here separated by a screen when we both want the same thing?"
"Because I'm a priest," he said, but his voice was wavering now. "Because I made vows before God. Because this is a church, a sacred space, and what you're suggesting is—"
"What I'm suggesting is that you stop lying to yourself." I pressed closer to the screen, my hands gripping the wooden frame. "I'm twenty-three years old, Father. I'm not a child. I know what I want. And I know you want it too. So stop hiding behind your collar and admit it."
"Elena—"
"Admit it," I demanded. "Say it out loud. Tell me you've thought about me."
A long, shuddering breath. Then: "I've th
