Jean awoke on Sunday morning, pressing a kiss to Lucien's cheek, then readied herself for church. Once done, she tiptoed downstairs for a cup of tea.
In another life, a Sunday morning meant chasing around two little boys, coaxing them into wearing a tie while they squealed with laughter, Christopher standing in the doorway laughing.
Then Sundays meant donning a widow's hood and making the trip to the church alone. Once the pain of losing Christopher passed, church blended into the background of her routine. It had been a place of community, peace, and warmth.
Now, for the first time since she was a little girl, dread settled in her stomach. Today was another day to bear judgment, to doubt herself and her faith, to feel guilty for loving Lucien.
Behind her, footsteps echoed down the hall and she turned, her heart leaping to her throat. Lucien stood in the doorway, dressed impeccably.
"Lucien, what-"
He shrugged bashfully. "We've got a service to attend, love."
Jean's face crumpled, tears falling fast. Lucien was at her side in an instant, stroking her hair and holding her against his chest, "Jean? I'm sorry, I thought you would want me-"
She pulled away and held his face in her hands, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I do. I really do."
Lucien beamed at her, wiping the last of her tears away. "I may not believe in God or the church, but I believe in you, Jeannie. And I will be by your side." He grinned mischievously, "Just let those biddies say a thing to you with me around. They wouldn't dare."
She slipped her hand in his and led him out the front door into the sunshine, heading for church, with her protector at her side.