Biker's Virgin

Her face looked genuinely confused. “Tell what? What are you talking about?”

I looked around to see if anyone was listening and then decided this was not a conversation for in front of the apartment. I took a hold of her arm and guided her in the door. Once it was closed, I said, “About us, Daphne. How does the Diocese know I had sex?”

Her mouth fell open, and she looked shocked. “They know? What happened?”

“Never mind that right now, Daphne. I thought you cared about me.”

“God, Jace, I do care about you. I didn’t tell them. I wouldn’t do that. I can’t believe you think that I did.” I ran my hand through my hair and said,

“I just don’t know what to think; but it’s over now. What a mess.”

She didn’t say anything to that. She looked shocked, but I think she was also angry with me for accusing her. I guess she had a right, but I was not in the frame of mind to take it back.

She took a deep breath finally and said, “I care so much about you, Jace. I would never do anything to compromise your life. I told you leaving was up to you. I meant that.”

“Then if you didn’t, who did, Daphne? Who else knew?”

Her eyes widened, and I could see the exact moment she made the connection. “I told my friend Bethany.”

“The one you work with?”

She nodded. “She swore to me she wouldn’t tell anyone.” Daphne was on the verge of tears. I hated that my anger was making her cry, but I was still too upset to come outside of myself and comfort her. “I begged her not to tell. She promised me…”

I couldn’t believe she told anyone, but at the same time, who was I to judge? I told my brothers because I needed to tell someone…she probably did it for the same reason. “You didn’t tell her on purpose, did you? To get me forced out so that you and I could be together?”

Now she really looked like she wanted to cry. I didn’t think her tears were from sadness, though. I think she was just so angry with me for the accusations.

“How could you think that? You say you thought I cared about you? I thought you cared about me! How could you even consider that I would be that devious?”

I took a deep breath. She was right. It would hurt me if she accused me of something like that. I was just overwhelmed and frightened. I was taking it out on her. “I’m sorry; I don’t think you’re devious at all. I had a bad day and there are going to be a lot more to come. I’m sorry I took it out on you.”

“What happened?”

“The bishop came in with his investigators. They said they had a report that I’d been dating and having sexual relations with a woman. I didn’t confirm or deny it; I just said I would cooperate with the investigation. They have suspended me in the meantime.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. I could see the wheels turning in her head and finally, she said, “Were you still thinking about leaving…and us being together?”

“Yes, but I wanted to leave on good terms. I still wanted to be able to practice my Catholicism without being looked on like a pariah. I also didn’t want you drug into the latest gossip binge.”

“How would they prove it?”

I shrugged. “If you deny it, then they can’t.”

“Then I’ll just deny it.”

“But, they’ll be expecting it. So then, they’ll interview parishioners and other clergy and your name will be dragged through the mud in the process. I don’t want you to have to go through that.”

“What are your options?”

“I can take my chances a

nd wait for them to finish the investigation, which will probably go on for months. I can tell the truth, and if I don’t accept retreat and counseling, then I’ll be stripped of my vows. Or, I can bow out before any of this happens.”

“What do you mean, ‘bow out’?”

“Tell them that the priesthood isn’t for me, anyways, and that I’d like to save them an investigation and scandal.”

“So, which do you think is your best option?”