Afloat Season 4 Ep.2

 This post is rated PG. Reader discretion advised

The more we are filled with thoughts of lust, the less we find true romantic love.

-Douglas Horton

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The routine had become painfully familiar. Whenever thoughts of Tricia consumed him beyond reason, David sought refuge in the same shameful ritual. The only thing he had come to resent was the relentless voice that refused to leave him alone—the calm, unwavering voice of Ada's parish priest.

It had started simple enough. 

Ada, aware of his internal struggles, had suggested suggested he seek spiritual guidance from her parish priest. The idea amused David at first, mostly because she knew he wasn't a religious man. The last time he had stepped inside a church had been for a funeral, where he had spent the entire service feeling like an outsider.

But Ada refused to let the matter rest.

Eventually, worn down by her persistence, he agreed to accompany her, never imagining the visit would become another battlefield inside his own mind.

The young priest had welcomed them warmly, taking them on a tour of his magnificent parish. David found himself admiring the blend of traditional and modern architecture, the ambitious expansion under construction behind the main sanctuary, and the priest’s dynamic energy. By the time they sat down in the comfortable, minimalist living room, David was so engaged in their conversation that he had forgotten his initial reluctance.

Then the conversation changed.

The priest spoke of temptation... of purity... of grace... not with condemnation, but with remarkable compassion. There was no judgment. No accusation. No threats of hellfire.  Only a quiet reminder that every man had a choice. Strangely, that was what made it worse. Then, for reasons David couldn't explain, those words burrowed deeper than any sermon he had ever ignored.

Ever since that day, one question had haunted him; What would Christ do?

It irritated him that the question still lingered days after their visit.

Sighing deeply, David closed his eyes and and fought the swirling vortex of emotions threatening to engulf him. 

Forget about Christ. Forget that priest. Think of Tricia, he willed himself as he resolutely pulled the zipper of his trouser down. 

The familiar heat surged through him almost instantly. Then, like a whisper, the priest's voice returned. "Christians are called to maintain sexual purity."

"Damn it..."

David cursed and his eyes flew open. Groaning in frustration, he slid from the sofa onto the cold marble floor, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes as though he could physically force the words from his mind. 

Then David froze. He had heard something. It was a faint creak, barely audible.

A sudden chill ran down his spine as his eyes snapped toward the open kitchen doorway.

Someone else was in the house.

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CONTINUE