She rubbed her legs to get the blood flowing again, then crawled into bed and closed her eyes.
Sister Bernadette slept badly that night. Fragments of her prayer kept forcing themselves to the front of her mind as she tried to think of a decent explanation for Sister Julienne. Every sentence sounded stilted. Her words felt unfinished, half-drawn, broken.
In the end, she simply got up, donned her habit and wimple and went to Sister Julienne's office. There was no sense in delaying the inevitable. Besides, Sister Bernadette doubted that she could ever adequately express what had prompted her to break her vow of chastity in the first place. She might as well get it over with before her brain turned into pudding.
"Ah, Sister Bernadette, please sit down," Sister Julienne said as soon as Sister Bernadette entered. Sister Bernadette sat herself down opposite of her religious sister, her hands in her lap.
"Here, I've made you a cup of tea," Sister Julienne said and pushed a china saucer with cup towards her. There was a tiny biscuit on the saucer.
Like the one Doctor Turner didn't finish yesterday, Sister Bernadette thought and blushed.
"Thank you," she said and cradled the cup with both hands. The china was soothingly warm. Sister Julienne smiled at her as she sat herself down.
"I've added a bit of sugar and milk," she said. Sister Bernadette took a tiny sip. Drinking tea was such an ordinary activity that she felt comforted by it. It also encouraged her in a strange way to open up to her religious sister, to finally spill the storm of emotions that had been brewing in her heart for the past few months. She opened her mouth, realised she still knew not how to express what was inside her and took another sip instead.
"Sister Bernadette, I will have to ask you some questions about what I witnessed yesterday," Sister Julienne said.
"I understand."
"Good. Now, did Doctor Turner in any way force his attentions upon you?" Sister Bernadette's head snapped up and met Sister Julienne's gaze. The older nun's face was serious, but open, too.
"No. Doctor Turner would never do that. He would never force anyone into doing something they would not want," she said. The words tumbled out of her mouth in their haste to get out.
"No matter how unlikely, I still had to ask," Sister Julienne said.
"I don't want anyone thinking that I was not just as responsible for what happened yesterday, Sister."
"Did anything like this happen before?" Sister Julienne asked. Sister Bernadette shook her head.
"No. I… Nothing improper happened before yesterday. I would swear it on the Bible."
"Surely there's no need. However, how then do I interpret what happened between you two in the kitchen?" Sister Bernadette dug her nails into her palm to ground herself.
"I… I can't explain it, Sister. I have tried, I swear. I've gone over and over it inside my head all night, but I can't put it into words." Tears threatened to blur her vision. She wiped them away with the palm of her hand. She had no time for tears now.
"Sometimes the truth we look for is best put into a few simple words," Sister Julienne said. She reached for Sister Bernadette's hand and clasped it in hers.
"I think I love him, Sister. God forgive me, but I love him with all my soul." They were silent for a little while.
"How long have you had those feelings?"
"I don't know. For months, I think. They snuck up on me. They were so subtle. I could rationalize everything at first, push it away and pretend it was something else, right until I couldn't." Sister Julienne gave the younger nun's hand a slight squeeze.
"And Doctor Turner, does he feel the same way about you?" she asked.
"I could not speak for him, Sister. We have never talked about it, but then there is so much we've never told each other. I honestly don't know," Sister Bernadette answered truthfully.
"I think I see," Sister Julienne said. She pulled her hand back and folded it with the other, resting her chin on her fingertips.
"I did not mean to break my vows, Sister. I have been a nun for the past ten years. The religious life has brought me so much…" Sister Bernadette started toying with the biscuit, not having any other useful occupation for her fingers. It seemed to her as if her hands craved constant work. She supposed she had tried to keep her mind off of things that way before.
"Nonetheless, you have started walking on very thin ice. I know you would not do so without good cause; you are much too sensible for that. Am I correct when I assume that your feelings for Doctor Turner are not a fleeting infatuation?"
"I don't know. I've prayed so often these last few months. I've asked God to take this feeling away from me. I…" She wanted to say that she had come to feel more and more that God ignored her. He no longer spoke to her. She could raise her voice to him all she want, but her emotions had not waned. Sometimes, in the dark hours of the night, she was almost sure that she had lost her faith.
"Every nun goes through a phase of doubt, Sister. It is easy to have faith when all is well, but it is only in times of trials and tribulations that we can prove the strength of our beliefs," Sister Julienne said. Sister Bernadette wanted to say that this could not possible be a phase, but the words shrivelled on her tongue and died there. She broke the biscuit in half and placed both parts back on the saucer.
"Sister Bernadette, let me be frank with you here. It seems to me that you have an important decision to make, and not one you should make lightly. Yesterday, I asked you to think of what the habit you wear means to you. I asked you that because you need to evaluate the life you are currently leading. As a nun, there is only one way you can go on loving Doctor Turner: secretly. You will have to put that feeling away, deep inside you, and never let it out. Giving into it will only lead to further heartbreak."
"Are there many nuns that do so?" Sister Bernadette asked. Sister Julienne looked away, training her eyes on her bookcase, before answering.
"More than you might think. Perhaps, in time, you might find yourself looking back on these days with only fondness and nostalgia," Sister Julienne said. Sister Bernadette picked up part of the biscuit and stroked it with her fingertip. She doubted whether she could ever look back on this time of torment with fondness, but who was she to know?
"I'm afraid, Sister, that I would ultimately come to resent God for demanding all my love," she whispered, not daring to look Sister Julienne in the eye.
"My sweet girl, unlike what Sister Monica-Joan may have led you to believe, love is not a cake. It does not get halved when we share it. You should be able to love both our Lord and Doctor Turner, but the love of the latter must be completely selfless. As a nun, you cannot indulge yourself." Sister Bernadette felt queasy. Was she strong enough to do as her sister asked? Could she lock away her feelings, only occasionally letting them out of their box to gaze upon them as one would look at faded and yellowed photographs?
No, a soft voice in her head told her.
You would have to see the doctor every day, at work. You would have to be distant and cold and professional. It would rub your heart raw and bloody till you would not feel anything.
"And my other options?" Sister Bernadette looked up, desperately searching for answers in the sweet eyes of the older nun. Sister Julienne went quiet, tapping her fingertips against each other and staring at her bookcase.
"You would have to renounce your holy vows and leave the order," she said softly.
"I see. Thank you for speaking with me, Sister. You have given me much to think about," Sister Bernadette said. She left Sister Julienne's office and went to collect her bag, thinking that drowning herself in work was the only sensible thing she could do right now. It was only when she went to unclasp her bag that she noticed she still clutched part of the biscuit in her hand.