The Divine Temptation (18+) (Forbidden Priest Romance)

5. The First Lady of the United States (Edited)

'Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God's one and only Son.'

John 3:18 (NIV)

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Gabriel

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Most people believe that, because I've become a priest, I grew up in a highly religious environment, surrounded by crosses in each room, told never to yield to temptation, and to live my life right by God. That, however, wasn't the case. I spent most of my life with my mother, attending church on Sunday, and celebrating the sainted holidays. But it was nothing that consumed us as much as it did and continues to consume my father.

Funny enough, God broke down the marriage of my parents.

My father wasn't always like this, my mother used to tell me. He was loving and caring, and they initially bonded over their mutual respect for religion; however, when my father turned to religion to help his guilty conscience, he strangely became a shell of himself.

He withdrew from their relationship. 'Abstaining from temptation,' my father called it.

He would spend most, if not all, of his days down at the local church, hoping one day he would be ordained.

My mother continued to support him in his journey, humouring me with the line 'in sickness and in health'. She viewed my father's changes as a sickness, slowly eating at the character of him until he became nothing like his former self. When they moved to Pinevale and he spent more time as the priest and not as a father, she realised that he was only hiding from his troubles and that she and I were only painful reminders for him of what he did. She served him the divorce papers just after my third Christmas.

She was hesitant to sign, worried about the potential backlash he would receive for being a divorced minister. In the end, after leaving during one of his many days away and flying to another state, he signed.

There have been many times when I question my position now, or what my mother would think of me here, stepping into my shoes. Deep down, I get the sense of disappointment, especially if she was still alive to know the reason.

"There isn't much of one, I suppose," Evangeline simply answers.

I was hesitant to ask her, but when living in a town of devout Christians and people that would only speak to you about religion, she was somewhat a breath of fresh air.

"No." She takes a small breath. "It's too late for that." She looks down at her hands, as she brings her bottom lip into her mouth and she chews on it slightly, flakes of her croissant gently falling to the ground. Sensing the sensitivity surrounding the subject, I draw away from the topic.

"It shouldn't be a long day. All we need to do is put the new bibles out, replace some of the candles, and do a spring clean." I bring my coffee cup up to my lips and take a sip, my eyes still trained on her as she finishes the rest of her croissant, neither one of us exchanging any more words as we silently eat.

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"Okay, so what did you study at college?" Evangeline asks.

We were now located out front, myself near the chancel, and Evangeline on the opposite end of the aisle, the awkward air from our morning conversation now dissipated as we've moved on to cleaning up and firing questions back at each other.

I fumble with unwrapping the plastic from a pillar candle when I respond.

"Politics and law."

"Wait, so you didn't study philosophy?" I shake my head. "But what about theology or religion, ethics even?"