FORGIVE ME FATHER

CHAPTER 4: FORGIVE ME FATHER

Marcelo sat on a wooden chair in the small garden behind the covenant, his eyes fixed on the screen of his phone. The device buzzed once again.

He frowned, the name flashing across the screen was one he had been avoiding all morning, with a quiet sigh, he declined the call and slipped the phone into his pocket; for a moment he simply sat there.

The soft breeze brushed against his skin carrying the scent of flowers from the nearby garden beds. Birds chirped in a distance, and for the first time that day, he felt himself relax.

This was why he loved Saint Gabriel’s, the peace, silences and simplicity.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he lifted his gaze to admire the colorful flowers swaying gently in the wind. For a belief moment all the worries weighing on his shoulder disappeared.

Just then the silenced was shattered by a loud groan, Marcelo closed his eyes, and his smile vanished immediately wondering who was still waking around at this time of the evening.

He slowly turned his head to the direction of the sound, there; a few feet stood Alex Martins.

The same person who ought to be resting in bed, instead he was leaning heavily against a tree, with one hand pressed against his bandaged side and the other gripping a walking cane he had somehow managed to take before leaving his room.

Marcelo stared at him and somehow Alex managed to stare at him back, neither of them spoke any words.

Marcelo rolled his eyes before standing to his feet breaking the silence “What exactly are you doing?” he asked

Alex straightened as much as his injuries could allow him to. “Taking a walk” he replied

Marcelo raised an eyebrow, “This doesn’t seem like a walk”

“It’s a slow walk” he said trying to catch his breathe.

“You should be in bed”

“And you should be praying yet here we are” he spoke

“Seems Mr. Kelvin was right…”

A smug smile appeared on Alex’s face. “Kelvin has no idea what to do without me”

The smile quickly faded when pain shot through his side, he let out a low groan and nearly lost his balance.

Marcelo took a few steps forward his gaze drifted to the fresh blood seeping from Alex’s bandages.

“You’re bleeding”

Alex glanced down, “oh, that’s unfortunate” the words barely left his lips before his knees buckled, Marcelo caught him before he could hit the ground but Alex pushed against his chest.

“Let go!”

“Stay still, you will make thing worse”

“Can you mind your business, I can take care of myself” his breathing became heavy.

“Clearly.” Alex glared at him, he opened his mouth to argue but stopped when another wave of pain hit him.

“You know, Alex” he said calmly, adjusting his grip around the taller man. “Bleeding to death is a particularly painful way to go.”

“Shouldn’t you be saying positive things?” he asked resting his weight on Marcelo

“In this case, no, you need rest and I’m hoping you’ll stop being stubborn”

“Rest or be imprisoned” Alex replied.

“And why is that?”

Alex expression hardened “I need to find people and protect the people close to me.”

For the first time since meeting him, Marcelo saw something beyond his arrogance, he saw his care for others. “You can’t protect anyone if you bleed to death, now can you?” Marcelo asked gently.

Alex looked away, Marcelo’s word reminded him of Kelvin. This was the second person to tell him to slow down, but he wasn’t sure who annoyed him more.

Alex held onto Marcelo’s shoulder, pulling him a little closer as he fought to keep his balanced. Their faces were inches apart.

“You have no idea how many sacrifices it took to be here” Alex said quietly.

Marcelo lifted his gaze until it met Alex’s, he could see the softness in his eyes as well as fear, a gentle smile found Marcelo’s lips.

“We’ve all made some sort of sacrifices to become the people we are” he pointed out, their eyes still fixed in a gaze. “But if you die now, then all of it would be worthless” he added

Alex chuckled “Tell me then, Father, I want to know about the sacrifices you’ve made?”

Marcelo hesitated, his smile faded slightly “Let’s just say… everything”

Silence settled between them, Alex leaned more of his weight against the tree, tightening his grip on the cane. Marcelo instinctively steadied him, one hand resting firmly around his waist.

Neither seemed to notice how close they had become. Alex’s eyes searched Marcelo’s face.

“Your eyes are beautiful” Alex said, in a low but deep tone, the words faint, Marcelo almost thought he imagined them. His breath caught, for a moment he forgot how to breathe.

He attempted breaking the gaze but his gaze remained, without meaning to, his eyes drifted lower.

To Alex’s lips.

His grip on Alex tightened causing him to let out a quiet groan of pain. The sound snapped Marcelo back to himself, he immediately loosened his grip and took half a step back.

“You… shouldn’t say thing like that” his voice sounded calmer than he felt, “You need rest.”

Before Alex could answer, Marcelo slipped Alex’s arm over his shoulder “Let’s go.” Together they made their way towards the convent.

From across the courtyard, Sister Grace spotted them and hurried over.

“Father! I’ve been looking everywhere for you” Marcelo adjusted his hold on Alex.

“There’s no need to worry, I found our runaway patient.”

Sister Grace sighed in relief.

“Father, what happened?” she asked, about to give assistance.

“There’s no need, his wound reopened.” He glanced at the blood soaking through Alex’s bandages.

“I need you to get materials to dress his wound, he’s bleeding out.”

“I’ll get everything ready.” She hurried inside.

Marcelo carefully placed Alex back to his room and helped him sit on the edge of the bed. His shirt was soaked with fresh blood. Without thinking he knelt in front of him and reached for the first button but his hands stopped as Alex’s hand closed gently around his wrist.

“I can undress myself” he spoke, Marcelo looked up, their eyes met again, for a second neither of them moved.

Then Marcelo slowly withdrew his hand. “Very well” he remained kneeling, watching to make sure Alex didn’t reopen the wound further. Alex slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

Each movement was careful, painful. He slipped the bloodstained fabric from his shoulder, exposing his chest, wincing as he freed his injured arm.

He adjusted himself on the bed before returning his eyes to Marcelo, a teasing smile curved across his lips. “Do you like what you see, Father?” Marcelo held his gaze, for a while he didn’t say a word.

Then, with remarkable composure, he replied “I see a man who won’t heal if he keeps refusing to listen”

The smirk on Alex’s face widened “So that’s a yes?”

Marcelo sighed, believing the conversation had finally come to an end. He was wrong, Alex reached out and caught Marcelo’s hands before he could move away. His grip wasn’t forceful, only deliberate.

Slowly, he guided Marcelo’s hand toward his bare chest, Marcelo could feel the warmth of his skin beneath his trembling fingers, the steady rise and fall of Alex’s breathing, the faint sheen of sweat pain and fever.

He heart skipped. Every instinct told him to pull away, every vow he had ever made demanded it but for some reason his body didn’t want to. He couldn’t move.

Alex had leaned in closing the distance between them.

“There’s nothing wrong wanting something good” he murmured.

His warm breath brushed against Marcelo’s ear, his pulse quickened. His eyes fluttered shut as though shutting out temptation would somehow silence it.

The room suddenly felt small, too warm and too quiet. With a sharp breath, Marcelo finally pulled his hand free and stepped back so quickly the chair behind him scraped against the floor.

He adjusted the collar of his shirt, more to steady himself than straighten it.

Before either of them could speak again, the door opened, Sister Grace stepped inside carrying fresh bandages, medicine, and a bowl of warm water.

Her eyes moved between the two men, neither of them spoke.

Marcelo cleared his throat. “Sister Grace,” he said, his voice calmer than he felt, “please tend to his wound.”

She nodded. “And you, Father?” she asked.

“I…. need a little air.” Without looking back at Alex, Marcelo walked pass her and left the room.

Only after the door closed behind him did he allow himself to stop. He rested one hand against the cold stone wall of the corridor and closed his eyes. His heartbeat refused to slow.

Under his breath, barely louder than a whisper, he prayed. “Forgive me, Father...”

Inside the room, Alex watched the closed door with the faintest smile.

For the first time since waking in the convent...

He had managed to shake the unshakable Father Marcelo.