4 ~ My Priest, My Damnation.

JOSEPH’s POV

The vespers service ended with the choir's voices fading into solemn chants, the last notes hanging like smoke in the dimming light.

I sat in the front pew, my hands clasped too tightly in prayer, but my mind was a whirlwind of anticipation and guilt.

Father Matteo stood at the altar, his silhouette framed by flickering candles and the massive crucifix looming overhead. His homily had been on temptation and the flesh's weakness, words that felt aimed straight at me, each syllable stoking the fire low in my belly.

As the parishioners dispersed into the twilight, whispering about family dinners and evening...