I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine. - Song of Solomon
Love is patient, love is kind. - Corinthians 13:4
Jean sat alone in the Church of the Sacred Heart. It was the middle of the day on a Tuesday, even the priest was nowhere to be seen. Jean was a regular Sunday churchgoer and would come in for the occasional morning confession, but this was unusual for her. She lowered her head and closed her eyes, hands clasped in front of her. It was a rare moment of stillness for a woman who was almost always moving. Even when resting her mind was usually engaged in some other activity. The complete silence created a buffer around her which Jean found comforting. The sun was slanting through the entrance of the church, leaving the stained glass windows on the opposite side in shadow. Most people came to church to talk to God. Jean was here today to speak with someone else, someone whom she had not said a word to for eighteen years. Buried 4,000 miles from home, Jean had no grave to visit, no physical presence, just memories. She had not had time to mourn Christopher when he died. With no body, there was no funeral. And then she had two teenage boys to look after and a farm she could no longer keep. Later, when she could collect her thoughts, all she had was guilt and regret. It was her words that had sent him to the recruitment office that day. She was the reason her boys had lost their father. But there had been very little time to dwell on that for the last eighteen years. Now, standing on the edge of a new life, his absence was keenly felt. She wished he was there beside her. She wished she didn't want him there, and that only made her feel worse.
"I am about to do something you wouldn't like, Christopher. You would have wanted me to remarry, but not to him. You wouldn't like him, Christopher. You'd say he's a right snob and I'd best stay clear of him. Men like that are more trouble than they're worth, you'd say. You're probably right on that count. He's been a lot of trouble. But he's also taken care of me when he didn't need to. He's never needed to, and yet he does. There are some things about him that remind me of you. He has the same fire, the same reckless nature. He's strong, and just a little bit of a brawler. But he can be so gentle, almost child-like in a way. He's kind to those around him. For those he cares about, his friends and family and myself, his love is all-encompassing. It's easy to get lost in him. But he's also deeply troubled. Horrible things happened to him during the war. Much worse than to me and maybe even to you. He is wounded and it shows. He acts badly sometimes on account of it but underneath it all, he just needs someone to care for him. There is an inscription under the statue of The Virgin in the Lady Chapel that reads Amor vincit omnia, "Love conquers all." I think this may be one of those rare times that it is actually true."
Jean paused to collect her thoughts. Breathing deeply, she tried to absorb the silence around her. She tried to focus her mind away from a growing sense of unease.
"The trouble is not that I love another man. The trouble is that he is married. He will not be free to marry me for a long time, if ever. You would never approve of that, Christopher. You would give Lucien a good thrashing for it if you could. But I need to be free to move forward. I need to love him, even if we can't be married. I am the only one who can heal his pain, and he is the only one who can heal mine. We've both walked in the shadows too long. Together we might save each other.
I will not ask for your blessing Christopher. It would be unfair, given the circumstance, to ask for anyone's blessing, especially yours. I can only pray for your understanding and forgiveness. I have given him my heart, soon I am going to give him my body as well. It is something I need to do. He sacrificed so much to be with me. Everything he loved before is so far away now, beyond all reach, and that is because he chose me. I want to give him everything, but in doing so, I know I am betraying you. I am betraying my church and everything I believe in. This one time I need to follow my heart, not my conscience, though I don't know that anything good will come of it. I just wish I knew that you wouldn't hate me for it. I wish you would tell me that it's alright, that if it isn't the right thing to do then it isn't the wrong thing either. I wish you'd still find me worthy of you." Tears were now flowing down her cheeks. She prayed with all her heart to Christopher that she would somehow know if she could be forgiven.
A shadow flickered across the sun-lit aisle and startled Jean out of her meditation. She sensed she was no longer alone. She gathered her purse and coat and walked towards the back of the church but no one was there.
"Father?"
Silence.
She peered through the entrance into the sunlight and still saw no one. She took a few steps outside and looked around. Leaning against the wall next to the entrance was Lucien Blake.
"Lucien? What on earth are you doing here?"
Lucien looked sheepish. "Well I was driving to a house call earlier and I saw you go inside. I thought I'd pop back this way and see if you were still here and if you needed a ride home. I didn't want to interrupt you."
Without another word Jean turned back and ran into the church. She stopped half way down the aisle and peered into the dim nave, straining to see the apparition that she was sure must be there. All she saw was dust and shadow.
"Jean?" Lucien was in the church now, a few feet behind her. "Jean are you alright?"
Jean turned around and looked up at him. She had not uttered a word aloud the whole time she had been inside but there was sadness in Lucien's eyes, as if he knew everything. He lifted his hand towards her shoulder but pulled it back. He just stood there in the dim light, waiting for her.
Jean took his hand in hers. "Let's go home," she said, and they walked out of Sacred Heart together.
