Ste Hay walked through the heavy wooden door into the gothic interior of the Catholic Church. He couldn't see anyone, he didn't want to. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts, where Brendan was still with him.
He thought about his great lover's fierce loyalty, then about Brendan visiting this church, and how he would now react to Ste sharing this place of spiritual rehabilitation.
Ste then remembered what Brendan had told him in Dublin.
I made a promise with God; that if you pulled through, I'd stay away.
Ste wondered if Brendan may be able to hear him if he shouted. Throughout the two year period Ste had known and loved Brendan, he was always in shouting distance of him, where he knew Brendan would come to his rescue.
A single tear rolled down his cheek, there was something about the walls of this place, something that he wouldn't ever be able to recognise. He began to shout desperately for his dear one.
'BRENDAN! BRENDAN! PLEASE BRENDAN! PLEASE GOD! BREN-'
He could not shout anymore, for his crying was halting the clarity of his words. The tears continued to flow from his eyes, until he could no longer see. He slid down the pew and onto the floor, where he continued to weep.
'Hello. Hello. Can I – can I help you?'
Ste had fallen asleep on the floor in the aisle of the church, his eyes still wet with tears.
'What's wrong, child?'
'You wouldn't understand'. Ste stumbled to his feet, took one short look at the preacher in front of him, and trudged towards the door.
'Listen, I really can help you. There's peace here. You can tell me what you're going through'. The preacher was sounding desperate now, trying to help the broken man who continued to slowly approach the door.
'Shut up. Don't speak. Just don't'. Ste didn't look back with these words; he simply continued to march towards the exit, wiping the tears from his brow.
'He loved you Ste'
Ste couldn't move any further. 'What did you say?'
'Brendan – he loved you. More than any man could. Can't you see that?'
Ste's mood had gone from sadness to rage, he needed to lash out.
'How dare you talk about Brendan! How dare you!'
Ste ran towards the preacher, violent intent now in his eyes. The preacher wasn't scared, for he knew that the person now sprinting towards him wasn't the Ste Hay that Brendan Brady had so loved, but someone possessed by uncontrollable anger.
'Please, hear me out', said the preacher.
'No!' Ste pinned him up against the stone wall of the church. 'Why are you saying these things?' Ste no longer sounded angry, he was broken again.
'Listen to yourself, child. Look what you're doing'. The preacher looked into Ste's tortured eyes and repeated, 'He loved you Ste, he did'.
Ste once again fell to the floor, sobbing until he was left paralysed by his own anguish. The preacher knelt down him, wrapping his arms around the boy. In this moment, he was reminded of his former wish to have a child of his own. He quickly dismissed the thought, and held Ste tighter.
Father Des prayed, whilst Ste continued to cry in the morning sunshine.