Holy Sins

Forbidden Thoughts

AERIS

( A Month Later)

The bell was already ringing when I came downstairs.

Same damn sound it’s made every Sunday since before I could remember low, heavy, echoing over Larkhaven like God Himself was calling roll. But today? Today it was different. Not nostalgic or comforting just present, like a f*****g reminder that life hadn’t stopped just because mine had cracked open a month ago.

Mom stood in the kitchen wearing her usual church outfit, a modest skirt and cardigan,and took one look at me.

"You clean up nice," she said. Not fake sweetness either; honest observation from someone who knew what grief looked like on people's faces daily now that she ran half this town's social life through parish gossip circles.

I didn't say thanks.

I didn't need to.

We both knew this wasn't about looking good,it was about surviving another public appearance where everyone would stare subtly while pretending not to notice the widow daughter who came home after burying her husband too young.

"Ready?" she asked quietly instead of pushing more compliments out there uselessly between us two women standing awkwardly with nothing but silence usually filling these moments between family members post-bereavement s**t happening around them constantly lately.

Yeah no s**t I wasn't ready,but saying that out loud? That'd be selfish.

"Mm-hmm.”

The walk to church was a parade.

Not literally,no floats or marching bands,but close. By the time we hit Main Street, people were already falling into step beside us like it was some unspoken Larkhaven rule: No one walks alone on Sunday.

First came the Hensleys,Mrs. Hensley waving with that manicured hand of hers, Mr. Hensley nodded solemnly in his stupid polo shirt (who wears those to church?).

Then the Doyles appeared outta nowhere, Mrs. Doyle immediately launching into complaints about how hot it was for September while her husband just grunted and kept walking.

Kids from town I didn’t recognize zipped past on bikes or hopped off porches yelling at each other before spotting my mom and slowing down respectfully,the kind of automatic politeness small towns bred whether you liked them or not.

And then there she was,Aveline.

Waiting near Saint Michael’s front steps like she’d been planted there by God Himself.

Arms crossed.

Sunglasses pushed up into her blonde hair where they always sat when she wasn't wearing them full-on sun-protection mode.

She saw me first,and damn if relief didn't flash across her face for half a second before she schooled it back behind cool-girl neutrality.

Then movement.

A hug,tight fast fierce,one arm locking around my shoulders like an anchor as soon as I got within reach.

"There you are," Aveline said low against my ear before pulling back just enough to scan my face properly

The hug was over fast,just long enough to say I see you, I’m here,and then Aveline grabbed my hand like she always did when she wanted to make sure I didn’t drift off into grief-land.

She tugged me toward the church doors without another word, already scanning the pews inside like a general surveying battle lines.

"Seat’s saved," she muttered, shooting a glare at Cordelia and her knitting circle hovering near our usual spot. "Barely."

Cordelia gave her one of those polite-but-passive-aggressive smiles,the kind that meant Oh sweetie, we were just about to sit there ourselves but backed off when Aveline didn’t blink.

We slid into our row.

Mom took hers two back with Mrs. Hensley and another friend chatting quietly over hymnals.

Aveline plopped down beside me hard enough for the wood seat to creak slightly under her weight.

Then came gossip time,because of course it f*****g did.

Before any priest even walked out? Before music started?

Aveline leaned in close,voice dropping low,

eyes glinting with mischief.

“Okay… Florence caught Ambrose on a ladder again.”

Aveline said it like she was delivering top-tier intelligence.

"Again?" I whispered back, eyebrow lifting.

"What the hell was he doing on a ladder this time?"

She smirked,wicked, delighted,and leaned in even closer, her voice dropping to that conspiratorial hush only church gossip could pull off without sounding ridiculous.

"He was trying to fix his roof gutter," she said slowly. "Alone. At 6 AM last Tuesday."

My lips twitched.

I didn’t want to laugh.

It wasn’t funny,but Ambrose being Ambrose? Always attempting DIY projects way above his skill level? That man had nearly killed himself more times than most people got divorced.

"And?" I prompted quietly as the organist started tuning up at the front.

Aveline’s grin widened. “And Florence saw him from her window while watering plants and went out there yelling like a banshee because he’d forgotten safety lines again.”

I snorted.

Then covered my mouth fast when several heads turned toward us,not including Mom's; hers stayed firmly forward on prayer mode already set for service about to begin properly any second now.

The music swelled slightly,soft opening chords of today’s hymn starting up.

The organ hit that first heavy chord oom and the whole church seemed to exhale at once.

People straightened.

Hymnals opened.

A few folks shuffled into their seats late, slipping in quietly like they were hoping no one would notice.

But Aveline wasn’t done yet.

She turned her head just slightly,still facing forward,but tilted it toward me so I could hear every word without reading lips,and dropped another bombshell.

“Cordelia’s convinced the new organist is sleeping with Knight Maloney’s wife.”

My eyes snapped wide open.

Not because I cared about church drama,or even believed a word of this,but because Knight Maloney? The old guy who looked like he’d been dried out and hung in a closet since Vatican II?

And his wife? Sweet Mrs. Maloney who baked pies for funeral receptions and always wore floral dresses?

No f*****g way.

I glanced sideways at Aveline.

She was biting her lower lip to keep from laughing, shoulders shaking silently under her jacket as she stared dead ahead like an angel behaving perfectly during service.

The church was filling up,people shuffling into pews, murmuring greetings, kids being hushed by parents.

The choir was still tuning when the priest walked in.

And Jesus, it hit me like a freight train,like someone had just cranked the air out of my lungs and replaced it with static.

He wasn’t what I expected. At all. Not some soft-spoken, round-faced priest who looked like he belonged at a bake sale or some s**t. Nope. This guy? Tall as hell, broad shoulders under that stupidly tailored black robe, dark hair cut sharp enough to kill a man,and those eyes?

Fucking hell. Gray-blue,cold-looking but not cold at all,and they scanned the pews slowly and deliberately like they were measuring every single person in here for something deeper than faith.

Aveline noticed me staring before I could even pretend not to be.

She turned her head slowly toward him… then back to me… then smirked—the biggest f*****g s**t-eating grin on her face you’ve ever seen

"Ohhhh," she whispered under her breath,not even trying to hide how amused she was by whatever expression must've been plastered across my dumbstruck face right now

When I didn't answer fast enough (because honestly? My brain short-circuited), Aveline leaned closer.

"That's Father Ronan Armand."

My mouth opened slightly,but nothing came out yet because wow okay this man radiated danger without saying one word loud enough for anyone else nearby catch wind of it

Aveline watched me like a hawk,amused, entertained, loving every second of my silent freakout.

"Yeah," she whispered, nudging my shoulder with hers. "That’s him. Father f*****g Armand."

She said his name like it meant something,like he was some legendary figure instead of just a priest who showed up on Sundays to say mass and pretend not to notice Cordelia’s gossipy side-eye during communion.

And then? He started talking.

No mic needed. Just that deep, smooth voice cutting through the church air like velvet wrapped around steel,and damn.

Every word landed somewhere between your ribs and your spine because holy s**t it wasn’t fair how someone could sound both calm as hell and devastating at the same time?

I tried focusing on what he was saying,the sermon about grace or whatever,but no dice. My brain kept glitching back to:

Who is this man? Why does God look this good?

Every glance his way sent another stupid jolt through me,raw attraction mixed with something dangerously close to obsession already forming after exactly zero conversations

Then came eye contact

His eyes swept over the pews,methodical, like he was scanning every face for something.

And then they landed on me.

Not just a glance. Not some polite priestly sweep past. Nope. A full, deliberate look long enough that my stomach flipped hard and fast like I’d been punched in the gut by Cupid with zero chill about boundaries or appropriate timing.

I didn’t blink.

I forgot to breathe.

My hands clenched slightly in my lap because what the f**k was this feeling?

Aveline noticed instantly,and without missing a beat, she muttered under her breath.

"Ohhh shit."

She wasn't even trying to hide it anymore. Just watching me short-circuit while Father f*****g Armand held my gaze across an entire church full of people

Then,a tiny movement from him.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

Just barely.

Like amusement? Interest? Something else entirely?

It lasted half a second before he looked away again,but holy hell it felt significant as fuck

The service ended with the usual hymn,some slow, somber thing about light or redemption,and then people started shuffling out like always, chatting, hugging, forming their little church-clique circles in the courtyard.

I stayed seated for a second too long because my brain was still stuck on that look he gave me. That stupidly intense eye contact that shouldn’t have meant anything but somehow felt like a whole conversation.

Aveline stood and stretched. “C’mon,” she said quietly,not pushing hard but clearly ready to move on from standing around staring at priests like some lovesick schoolgirl

We got up together and walked outside into the bright Sunday morning sun.

The churchyard was buzzing now: kids running around playing tag near statues; Cordelia already deep in conversation with three other women probably spreading new scandal theories; Mom laughing loudly somewhere near her friend group

And there he was.

Father Armand.

Moving through crowds effortlessly,smiling politely here and there,but not stopping much yet just making his way across the courtyard toward one of the side entrances maybe?

Then suddenly,he changed direction.

Straight toward us

Aveline stiffened slightly beside me as she noticed him too,because yeah, no way you don’t notice a man that tall and commanding cutting through a crowd like he owns the place.

Then he was right there.

Up close? Worse.Or better. I still couldn't decide. His face was sharper than it looked from afar,strong jawline, those piercing gray-blue eyes now even more noticeable without the distance,and up close, his presence wasn’t just attractive; it was overwhelming in this quiet, intense way

He stopped in front of us with that same calm authority,but then smiled faintly at Aveline first like they were familiar or something

"Father," Aveline said casually,not overly formal but not rude either; just normal polite tone people use with priests around here probably

His gaze slid to me then,and f**k if my pulse didn’t spike again under that steady stare

He didn’t say anything right away.

Just looked at me,really like he was trying to figure something out. Not in a creepy way, but like…he recognized me from somewhere. Or maybe just sizing up who I was now that I’d shown back up after years gone

Then finally he spoke.

" Sister Vaelina's daughter."

My name must’ve been all over the place before I left Larkhaven for good,but hearing him say it like that? With no introduction or pleasantries first? Straight to business?

It threw me slightly off balance

"Yeah," I said simply, voice steady even though my heart wasn't playing along with calmness at all

He nodded once,like that confirmed something in his head,and then did the most unexpected thing.

He smiled.

Not a fake priest's smile. Not one of those polite, performative grins people use to make others feel comfortable without actually meaning anything behind it.

Nope.

This was real.

Small,but genuine. The kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes just slightly and made him look…human? Approachable?

Fuck.

It hit me harder than I wanted it to

"Welcome home," he said.

And damn if that didn’t send another stupid jolt through my chest because why was a priest of all people,the first guy since Philip who’d made my pulse do s**t like this

Aveline stayed quiet beside me,smart girl. She wasn’t interrupting, just observing with that sharp, knowing look of hers like she could already see the disaster unfolding in my head.

Father Armand didn’t linger long though. After a beat,just one more second where his eyes stayed locked on mine like he was memorizing something,he turned slightly and nodded at Aveline again before stepping away smoothly

No handshake.

No awkward small talk.

Just…a polite exit after giving me that smile and those words

And then he was walking off toward another group of parishioners who immediately swarmed him with greetings and questions

I exhaled slowly once he was gone,not realizing I'd been holding my breath.