Absolve Me Read online

  They stayed melted together for so long that Liza almost dropped off, her head muzzy and her limbs turned to water.

  Eventually, Dominic raised his head, his eyes bleary and his lids at half mast. “S’okay?” he managed.

  “Yeah,” she sighed, and he groaned, pressing himself up in order to ease out of her. Both his cock and the plug slid from her body, and Liza jerked.

  “Shhh, baby, I’ve got it,” Dominic said. Moving almost drunkenly, he gathered up the used condom, the wrapper and the plug, carrying everything into the master bathroom. Liza heard the toilet flush and the water run, knowing she needed to get cleaned up but unable to free herself from the restraints.

  He returned with a washcloth and cleaned her with care before untangling her bra from around her rib cage and releasing her limbs. Liza gestured toward the bathroom, unsure that she’d be able to support her own weight, and Dominic solved the problem by picking her up in his arms and carrying her inside, setting her gently on the toilet and backing out with a quick kiss on the top of her head.

  Liza did her business as fast as she could, feeling as though she was wading through molasses as she washed up and brushed her teeth. When she made it back out into her bedroom, she found Dominic sitting on the side of the bed, tousled and satisfied and a touch smug. She crossed to him, and he stood, making a move toward his shirt where it lay draped across the footboard.

  “Stay,” she said, and he stared at her, dumbfounded.

  “Are you...are you sure?” he asked, but Liza could see that he was barely keeping his eyes open.

  Fuck it. Neither of them were in any shape to think, much less to move. “Let’s just sleep.”

  He looked for a moment as if he might decline, and Liza started to wonder if she’d made a mistake, but then dropped his jeans, stepping out of them and drawing her back down to the bed. Together, they climbed beneath the covers, and Dominic reached out to kill the lamp. Liza molded herself to his side, feeling the steady bump of his heartbeat beneath her palm. In seconds, she was fast asleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  Liza awoke by degrees, surfacing from a deep and drugged sleep. Sun poured in the window, and she stretched, yawning hugely. It wasn’t until she rolled over onto her side that she realized she was alone.

  The rumpled sheets and dented pillow were the only signs that Dominic had spent the night, but he’d managed to slip out early. His scent lingered on everywhere: the bed, her skin. Liza felt the pleasant soreness in her arms from the restraints, the twinge between her legs when she pressed her thighs together. For a minute, she let herself bask in the morning-after glow, before throwing back the covers and wandering into the shower.

  Downstairs, she went to the back patio to gather up the wineglasses and empty bottle. Seeing the knocked-over bottle, with wine that had trickled out onto the concrete, was a visceral reminder of last night, and for the first time, a little doubt crept in. Had letting him stay been a mistake? She’d hoped to talk with him, perhaps over breakfast, and maybe answer any final questions he had—encourage him to stay open to the possibilities they’d discovered together.

  Instead, she was going to have to exercise patience and give Dominic space to process his thoughts. On that note, she grabbed her phone and hit the autodial. “Angie? Where are you right now? Café Trieste at eleven?”

  * * *

  At a sunny outdoor table shaded from the warm sun by a large umbrella, Liza raised her iced tea to Angie and said, “To new beginnings.”

  Angie sipped her mimosa and raised a sleek eyebrow. “I take it things are going well?”

  “C’mon—we’ve been talking about nothing but me lately. What’s going on with you?”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Angie said. “You know full well that whoever calls for the date dishes. Besides, who are you trying to fool? You look...well, hell, you look rather well fucked.” Angie’s gorgeous grin lit up her face.

  “I had my last session with...that client last night. It was good—it was really good. But it was the last one.”

  “Ahhh. That explains a lot. So? Did you help him with whatever it was he was seeing you for?”

  Liza sighed. “I don’t know yet. I mean, I feel pretty good about it—I don’t think there’s anything else I could have done better. But I’ve got to give him a bit of time and space.”

  “Do you think you’ll see him again? Outside the office?” Angie asked. “Do you want to?”

  “Yes,” Liza admitted. “I do—and that’s part of the problem. I thought about what might happen if he...well, if he makes a certain decision and makes some major life changes. I never would have pictured myself getting involved with a client, even after we weren’t officially in a therapeutic relationship. But I like him, Ange. I really fricking like him, and... I don’t know. We’re good together—like, hotter than anything I’ve ever experienced. Plus, I think you’d like him. He’s just a very good guy.”

  “You have to tell him!” Angie said. “I’ve never seen you this gone over anyone. You have to let him know how you feel!”

  Liza shook her head. “Not unless he makes the first move.” She held up her hand to forestall Angie’s objection. “It’s not that I’m afraid to tell him I’m having serious feelings for him, but he may not...be available. It’s complicated, okay? I hate to be so vague, but you know—”

  “I know, and I support you a hundred percent. I just hope this guy is smart enough to see what he’ll be losing if he doesn’t drop everything and snap you up. You deserve to be happy, baby. You know that’s all I want for you.”

  “Amen to that.” Liza threw back the rest of her iced tea and flagged down Jerry. “Now, I’m ready for something with a little more kick.”

  * * *

  Liza spent the next few days with her nose to the grindstone. Between her current clients, a research paper she was contributing to and quarterly finances, she had enough on her plate to keep herself distracted.

  But every time her phone beeped, she’d get a little thrill of anticipation. Still, Dominic hadn’t reached out, and it was starting to concern her—enough that she resolved to call him that night if she still hadn’t heard from him.

  She opened her inbox, catching sight of an email from Susan, which she clicked straight into.

  Hi Liza,

  I just wanted to do a final check-in with you regarding Dominic La Sera. First, I cannot thank you enough for being willing to work with him despite the rough start. He tells me that your sessions were everything he could have hoped for and more. It sounds as though you were able to find a framework for him to explore his fantasies exactly as he’d been hoping, and he tells me he’s very grateful.

  I haven’t seen him this calm and settled since we began working together, and it’s all thanks to the intensive work he was able to do with you. Liza, you’re a miracle worker. I really think he’s finally ready to embrace himself as a priest and rededicate himself to the Church. This is a tremendous outcome, and I feel a huge debt. Please don’t ever hesitate to let me know if I can help you out in any way—I owe you big time, and so does Dominic!

  All my best,

  Susan

  Chapter Twelve

  Liza read the email twice, disbelief and heartbreak warring within her. Dominic had decided to remain a priest? Why in hell hadn’t he called to tell her himself? God, was he ashamed to face her? Hell, maybe he was. She would have told him that she thought he was making a mistake, which Dominic obviously didn’t want to hear from her.

  Or maybe—and this thought made her chest tight—maybe he regretted allowing the obvious connection between them to grow as deeply as it had. He’d left the other morning with no note, no call...not even a casual text. Oh God, that had to be it. But she hadn’t pegged him as a man who’d fuck and run, so to speak.

  She paced her office,
not knowing whether to scream, cry or call Dominic to give him a piece of her mind. Her stomach was upset and she felt shaky with the force of emotions that coursed through her.

  Jesus. I’ve finally done it. I’ve finally crossed the line, and this is the consequence. He told you—he told you from the very beginning what he was going to do. You let yourself believe you could change his mind. And this is what you get.

  With that sick thought, she knew she needed time to calm down, time to get centered again so she could think without that awful pulse of self-recrimination surging through her. She headed upstairs to change. She had a couple of hours before a client meeting, and she needed to run this shit out of her system if she wanted to have any chance of regaining her professionalism.

  So she did. She hit the sidewalk running and raced toward the park, heedless of the pain in her sore, stiff muscles. Every twinge reminded her of what Dominic had done to her body. She ran with a singular focus—to drown out the sorrow and the shame, and clear her cluttered mind so she could think again before she did something she would always regret.

  Her headlong flight ended abruptly after her fourth lap of the park trail. The adrenaline that had fueled her hit a hard limit, and she staggered to a bench, breathless and panting and nursing a sudden stitch in her side. She went down ass-first, grateful this area wasn’t heavily populated in the heat of the day. Head in hands, she sat, gasping to relieve the burn in her lungs.

  As her heart rate began to ease, Liza sat up, rubbing the sweat away from her eyes. She still felt awful, but that crazy spinning sensation had abated, leaving behind the cold, hard truth. Dominic wanted to be a priest more than he wanted to explore an amazing relationship with her. If he’d ever wanted her at all. She’d told him how rare their connection was, how unique, but that didn’t mean he’d have decided to keep exploring it with her. Oh God, it just kept getting worse. Even if he had left the priesthood, what was keeping him from taking his newfound sexual appetite and sharing it far and wide? How fucking naïve did she have to be to think his feelings had turned romantic just because hers had?

  What was the point, then? She desperately wanted to understand his rationale. She refused to believe that he hadn’t been profoundly affected by their time together. Had he really just shrugged and blown it off, content to close himself back up into that structured little box? Could she have misjudged him so badly?

  On that frustrating thought, Liza checked her watch and reckoned she had just enough time to get back, shower and prep for her appointment. Smashed heart or not, she’d have to put on her big girl panties for now and give herself time to get perspective. With a groan, she dragged herself to her feet and set out at a jog, feeling every jolt in her complaining body as she cursed herself to the beat of her stride.

  * * *

  A week passed, then two, and Liza found herself at a crossroads. Not a day had passed that she hadn’t woken from a shitty night’s sleep, cursing Dominic, cursing herself and cursing her inability to decide on a course of action. She’d refused to consult any new clients, and the few she still had were approaching the end of their scheduled therapy. Every day, she reached for the phone, tired of arguing with herself, but she didn’t trust herself to keep the conversation professional.

  Why? That was always the question. Why, Dominic? What are you thinking? And why haven’t you reached out to tell me yourself?

  Liza was very much afraid of hearing an honest answer to that question, and so the days marched on, but she found herself stuck. She no longer dove for her phone when she received a notification, and she’d turned Angie down for a couple of lunch dates, citing work. She felt like an asshole, but hell—she just wasn’t ready to face the pity on Angie’s face when she heard what a lovelorn fool Liza had been.

  By the third week, Liza was sick of herself—and knew she had to find a way to move on. But no matter how much she worked, ran or drank, the only thing she saw when she closed her eyes was Dominic: the smile that made her stomach flutter; his devilishly handsome face when they fucked, suffused with pleasure and awe; his awful, stubborn determination.

  Hell, she just wanted to see him.

  And so, when Sunday rolled around, she found herself on the street outside of St. Joseph’s, blinking and yawning, clutching her to-go coffee like a lifeline. Maybe this wasn’t such a brilliant idea, but she needed to know. She had to try and understand what being a priest meant for Dominic, why it superseded everything else that life had to offer.

  Why it meant more than a shot at love with her.

  She heard the ringing of a bell and followed a few other latecomers up the steps. There were still some places in the back, so she slipped onto the end of one of the bench seats, near a side door. It had been years since she’d been inside a church, and she couldn’t remember if it had been Catholic or not. As people settled and the service began, Liza craned her neck over the crowd, looking toward the altar—and her heart skipped a beat when Dominic emerged from a door near the front of the church.

  He wore the full—what were they called? Vestments? They consisted of a robe and draped stole in black and green, which gave him a sort of otherworldly air. It was Dominic, above the collar—but a Dominic whom Liza had never seen.

  She watched, rapt despite herself, as he conducted the service. Some parts were obviously rote—recitations and prayers the congregation either joined or responded to. But then he came down the stairs in front of the altar and began to speak without book or note.

  He looked thoughtful as he spoke. “I talked last week about choice—the choice we make every day to live in God’s image, to be the people we want to be and how every decision leads us either to or away from grace. Every day we wake up to temptation, to sin, and every day we resolve ourselves anew to make the right choices.” His voice, amplified by the echo of the sanctum, flooded Liza’s senses, and she bit down hard on her lip.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about walking the path and what it means. In trying to live good lives, and do good works, is it possible that we sometimes lose sight of the forest for the trees? In other words, do we bog ourselves down nitpicking the details of how to do God’s works, neglecting the importance of acknowledging the many ways in which we can serve?”

  As he spoke, Dominic paced, taking the time to acknowledge the congregants who sat attentively in the pews. “We can’t all dedicate our entire lives. We have jobs, families, responsibilities that keep our community running. Our paths may branch right and left. They may look to an outsider like a maze with no exit. But there’s one thing we can all be doing, no matter how much we have going on: we can keep putting one foot in front of the other. One step is all we ever have to take, one step that keeps us moving forward with God in our hearts and minds.” His voice rose over the low hum of approving murmurs, and he lifted his chin to include every single soul inside the room. “And whenever you feel like the path is too steep, too rocky, too long or too hard to see, remember—that’s all He asks of us. That we take that one step, no matter how small, to keep us on the path of good words and deeds. And when you feel too heavy or too tired or too sad or hurt to continue, look to your left. Look to your right. You’re not alone. In God’s light, all you have to do is reach out to those alongside you, for they know your struggle, as well as your worth.” Dominic brought his hands together in front of him, linking them to demonstrate his point. His expression was warm, almost beatific, and Liza felt the power of his words washing over her like an offering of peace.

  “Let us pray.” As Dominic led the congregation in silent prayer, Liza sat in subdued silence as the Mass began to come to a close, only half hearing the remainder of the ceremony—songs were sung, people filed row by row to take communion and soon the service was complete. The congregants began to exit, stopping to exchange words with Dominic, who was posted at the front door.

  Not wanting to draw attention to herself, Liza slipp
ed out a small side door, finding herself in the church parking lot. She dug her sunglasses from her purse and slid them on, feeling completely adrift. Dominic was—hell, he was pretty damn good at his job. He’d looked so at home up in front of the gathered parishioners. Genuine. Assured. Exactly the kind of guy whose opinion on faith you’d want to believe. Like someone you could trust with your biggest secrets, who’d somehow find the right thing to say when you needed to hear it the most.

  With sudden clarity, she realized what Dominic had sought from her: not just discretion, or trust, or even the fucking fantastic sex. He was looking to reaffirm his own faith—the faith that even the most outrageous fulfillment of his wildest dreams couldn’t tear him off his own path.

  And she’d provided it. He may not have been able to tell her to her face, but she could see the evidence for herself. Gone was the torn and tormented man who’d sought her out. The Dominic La Sera she’d seen in there knew himself at last.

  Her heart sank a little, but there was some relief mixed in. She hadn’t failed Dominic. Just herself.

  And it would hurt for a good long while, no doubt. But in the end, she’d have to move on. She had no choice.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You’ve gotta leave the house sometime, honey,” Angie counseled, her voice lovingly stern through the phone. “I know it sucks, but Bella really misses you. As do I.”

  “I miss you guys, too,” Liza admitted. She cradled her phone against her shoulder, reviewing her emails with the other hand. “Give me a few more days, okay? I swear, I’m fine. I just am shitty company right now, and I don’t want to upset Bella. When does her cast come off, again?”

  “Soon. She’s ‘dying,’ or so she tells me every day. I remember being that age with a cast—the itching! It’s super-bad in summer, so I get it. But I think she’s got about another week.”