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"It takes years as a woman to unlearn what you have been taught to be sorry for. It takes years to find your voice." -
Amy Poehler
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Jules

We were both silent throughout the ride. As the car came to a stop, I couldn't help but finger the fountain pen in my breast pocket. Not that I think she would try murder me or anything but.. well, better safe than sorry.

She steps out and, not certain of what to do, I stay seated in the car. Surprisingly, she comes to my side and opens the car door for me!

Left with no choice now, I step out of the car, all the while giving her a suspicious look which she only responds to with a smile.

Furious and curious at the same time, I turn away from her only for my eyes to land on a magnonimous three-storey mansion which looks like it had just been taken out of some aristocratic British movie set. By merely looking at the menacing building, the first thought that comes to mind is Royalty.

Now that I think about it, this building looks very familiar. Then, like a sharp jolt from a live wire, the bittersweet memories of this place pushes through the barrier I had built against them and plays through my mind like an old movie.

The first thing I remember about this place is that it was inside this very building that Jace had made love to me for the very first time. It was also in this building that I had told my one month old boyfriend, Jace, that I love him.

And he hadn't been able to say it back.

But stupid me had taken his silence for shyness. And concluded in my heart that he would tell me he loved me too when the time comes. But..

..the time never came.

Rather, he had thrown both me and my foolish love out of his life without even uttering a word. All he had to do was get married to one of America's most gorgeous supermodels who, as I keenly gaze at now, hasn't changed a bit even after seven years.

"You're coming?" she asks nonchalantly as the gates slide open immediately she approaches them.

Tears of betrayal and resentment threaten to make their way down my face. But I blink them back.

Between the humiliation of seven years ago and this, I find it hard to decide which is worse.

And if either husband or wife expects me to step into that house to be humiliated further, then they are up for a big disappointment.

I give Loretta a resentful glare and leave her standing with mouth agape, pretending not to be in on her husband's Humiliate Jules plan.

It is only when I walk a good distance away from her that I realize I don't know where I am. As a matter of fact, I am presently walking on an empty, lonely and narrow road, with not even a single building in sight.

Since the only time I've ever been here was seven years ago when Jace and I were still together, I have no idea where to turn.

I look around with a little bit of apprehension. The whole place looks like some scene from NH10. Only the road here is narrower and it isn't night time.

With no cellphone on me, I have no way of contacting anyone. And I definitely am not about to go back and ask Loretta for help.

So, therefore, I am lost.

Undaunted and strengthened by the betrayal, hate and disappointment I am feeling, I keep on walking, faster than before.

After walking a good distance, I finally reach an empty highway. Heels in hand, I start to walk on the flat, sandy sidewalk with no idea of exactly what I'm going to do.

As cars pass me by occasionally, I feel the tears falling. And find myself asking the heavens: Just how much longer will all this last?

Just a week ago, I was a happy, successful single woman.

But I am sure if I were to look in the mirror right now, the woman that would stare back at me will definitely not be anything compared to that of last week.

Tired of the hopeless walking, I place my black heels on the sand-covered floor, squat close to the ground and then keep my eyes on the road in quest of a good Samaritan who happens just to be riding along this way.

However, something happens that makes the last plan unrealisable.

What happened?

Right there on the street, in the middle of nowhere, crouched close to the ground with no companion whatsoever, I, Jules Lee doze off, thereby bidding adios to any Samaritan whatsoever who might just be riding along this long, narrow, lonely road.

*****

"Is everything okay?" A voice suddenly asks in the distance.

Startled, I open my eyes to see a man crouching right in front of me.

My self-defense instincts kick in and I am about to give the invader a good uppercut but I stop short.

Because the face staring at me right now is.. chiseled and manly all right. But.. there was just something about his gaze that makes you want to confess all your deepest, darkest secrets to him and still hope he forgives and even loves you after that.

I look at the stranger in the loose-fitting red T-shirt and blue jean trousers and find myself doing something I rarely do with someone I barely know: I say exactly what I'm feeling at the moment, "No, I'm not all right." I give an humourless chuckle. "I'm far from being all right."

"Oh dear," he says, giving me a fatherly look which is absurd being that he can't be a day older than forty. "But this place isn't safe, especially at night. And the sun is starting to set. Would you come into the car with me and then we can talk more while I drive you to wherever it is you might be going?" he asks, pointing at a sedan parked some feet away.

And this is where whatever spell he's cast on me stops working and I become skeptical. "Thanks for offering but I don't think..."

"I am completely safe, I promise."

I look up into the sky, both to confirm that the sun is truly setting and to pray to the heavens that I'm not about to dig my own grave by deciding to ride with a total stranger.

"Okay," I say as I get up, picking up my heels and fingering my pen..

Once again, better safe than sorry.

"Your car's nice," I say, breaking the awkward silence (at least to me) that's been going on since the beginning of the ride.

He smiles and unlike Terrence, I see no dimples.

Terrence

He must be worried sick about me now.

But why would he?

Didn't I tell him earlier, in clear terms that I wanted nothing to do with him?

Wanting to take my mind off my worries, I play with the rosary hanging from the stranger's front mirror. "So, what is your name?"

He looks at me, surprise evident on his face at my sudden question. "Nathaniel. My name's Nathaniel."

"I am Jules by name and yes, that's my name. No, it's not short for Julius."

He chuckles lightly. "So where exactly are you going?"

"New York."

He chuckles again. "We're in New York."

"Then how come I don't know this place?" I ask, my question coming out louder than I intended.

He shrugs before answering. "You can't know everywhere in a city."

"Know what, gimme your phone. I need to make a call."

I call Vicent and tell him to pick me up at an obscure location in NYC.

"NYC it is then," he says as he accelerates a little bit more.

"Yes. Thanks a million."

He shakes his head, "No. Thank you. Helping you this way is like fulfilling a mission for me."

I look at him for a moment, not being able to pinpoint exactly what it is that makes everything about him scream true and pure. Unable to stop myself, I ask, "So what is it that you for a living?"

"I'm a priest."

At this statement, I start to cough violently and uncontrollably with Nathaniel or should I say Father Nathaniel chanting 'Bless you, dear, bless you.'

Immediately I recover from my coughing spree, I look at the brown-skinned man who seems to have inherited all the good genes in his generation.

"You? A priest?"

He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"And why are you not in your soutane?" I ask, eyeing his casual outfit.

"I'm spending some time away from the parish," he explains.

"Oh, I see," I eye him again, this time in pity and envy of those angelic features that will never get passed on to the next generation." All that masculinity wasted," I finally say with a sigh.

He laughs, a deep, resonating sound that sounds like music to my ears. I look at him just in time to catch the sight of an immaculate teeth.

Wow. He really is flawless.

After this discovery, we talk on and on about other things: life, sport, people... and every bit of conversation with him was enlightening and interesting.

The only thing that keeps on reminding me that he is a priest is that reverent aura that surrounds him and every word he says tightly.

We get to where I asked Vincent to wait with my car and I spot my ride some paces away.

As the car skids to a stop, I thank Father Nathaniel before stepping out.

Standing beside the car door, I smile at him. And for the upteenth time, say exactly what's on my mind, "I hope to see you again," Because I still feel weirded out about it, I hesitate before softly adding "Father."

He smiles, I'm sure, at my hesitation. "Come worship at The Trinity parish in Albany in two weeks time. And you'll get to see me again."

I give a slight nod before reluctantly walking to my awaiting ride, all the way thinking about how different this might have went if his beautiful heart hadn't already belonged to God.

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Question: Ever had a crush on a priest?🤔😁