Dearest

Matthew

Summer air. Heat beneath my robes. Taking confessions during summer is always a little rough.

I wait until the next person enters the stand. They clear their throat. A man.

"Forgive me father for I've sinned. My last confession was a week ago."

Time stops. I can hardly breathe for a second.

I thought I would never hear that voice again, thought I would have to contort it in my mind to hear it say things it will never utter again. Not for me at least.

I have this little hope, that once I die, the cherub might borrow Ty's voice, just so I could hear it one more time.

But on my left, in my confessional is no cherub, I'm sure of it.

Then I'm up, acting on instinct. I exit my confessional, step over, pull away the curtain, and there he is.

There is confusion and then shock written on his face.

"Matthew?" he whispers as he stands.

I cannot speak. He's found me. He's here.

My body doesn't ask permission before it moves forward. I haven't held that man in almost a decade. I haven't been held by that man in almost a decade. But before that can happen again something pushes my shoulders and I stumble back. He pushes my shoulders, and I'm staggering back a couple of steps.

Before I know what's happening he's walking past me, towards the exit, away. He's already halfway there before I start hurrying behind him.

"Ty! Please wait, please ... Let me explain, let me talk to you. Tyrell please .." I've almost reached him now and when I touch his sleeve, pleading and begging he whirls around. There is a seething fury in his eyes that makes me recoil.

"This is where you've been, Matthew? All this time, all these years I thought you were somewhere far far from me, but you were just a few hours away?!"

"Yes, I-"

"So you weren't prevented from seeing me, you weren't on a holy mission, you were here. A stone's throw away. And you became a priest!" he's laughing now, dry and humourless, "that is great Matthew, that is really really fuckin' fantastic."

"Please Ty, please listen," my voice breaks of, tears gathered in my eyes and that's when I see it. See his face fall and his shoulders shrug a little, palms gathering up the ends of his sleeves, as if on instinct.

I will my tears away, I can't do this. Not like this. This is Ty. My Ty. He would comfort me after I abandoned him for eight years. I am not going to guilt him into this. I need this to be his choice, for he never got to make one before.

"Ty," my voice wavers but the tears are at bay, "I made the biggest mistake of my entire life when I left, please hear me out."

He takes a deep breath. I know that breath. He takes it before every football game to calm his nerves. He's told me about that breath; 'I'm a massive bloke y'know, people get scared of me when I shout, so I try'n avoid it best I can'. I'm not scared of him. I could never be and I want him to know that, so I step towards him, careful to leave him some space.

Then he's nodding. "I will. I'll hear you out. But not now, now I gotta-" he jerks his hand to the direction of the exit. I'm nodding now as well.

And all of a sudden I have a heartbeat again. Not just a beating heart, an organ pumping blood, but a fluttering, thumping, leaping heartbeat.

"Bye Matthew."

And then he's gone.

I basically sprint up the steps towards the window from where you can see the street.

There he is. Stepping into a car.

The car sits there for a long time. I sit there watching it for just as long.