SIMPLE MATH.

I saw Ronan again when he and his family showed up for a Sunday mass. When he, along with the rest of his folks, situated himself in the third pew of the middle row, Valeria purposely squeezed both of us into the pew right behind him, to practically breathe into the back of his head.

Then she decided it was too obvious if he moved his head so far to look at her and asked me to shift more to the left so that Ronan could only move his eyes and still give her glances once in a while.

He 𝘥𝘪𝘥 notice her immediately and gave her a loving smile. And I pulled my veil further over my face so that he wouldn't notice me. When he turned to the altar and I was safe, I caught myself scrutinizing him.

He looked so different, I noted. Those kind powder-blue eyes were back, hair parted nicely, smooth, shaved face, a crisp, stainless shirt. He 𝘥𝘪𝘥 look very handsome, but most importantly — human. Not a trace of the monster that used him to fuck me senseless like it had planned to.

I was glad he was okay and himself again, despite all that had happened. And anyway, what had happened was entirely my fault. I wondered if Ronan had actually forgotten everything the way I had done before.

Throughout the Liturgy Of The Word, fond glances darted back and forth. Valeria's face melted each time she'd found his eyes on her. She would not show her happiness of course, but I felt it quite well. It was especially strong when the parishioners were asked to get up and join in a mutual prayer. Rise – glance. Kneel – glance. Sit – wink.

It continued until the 𝘈𝘨𝘯𝘶𝘴 𝘋𝘦𝘪 prayer. By that point I had already gone to fetch bowls with breads, passed them to the other sisters and returned to my seat. The consecrated hosts were then offered to those who wished to receive a blessing. The lines formed.

Ronan rose and looked at Val discreetly when his eyes shifted to me and froze there, unblinking. His brow lifted, eyes narrowed. He looked puzzled, and stared at me strangely, almost demandingly. I hurried to avert my gaze and slithered out of the pew, feeling his eyes drill my back. And Val's drilling my head.

Ronan caught up to me as I was making my way out of the chapel. "Forgive me, sister."

Reluctantly I put the air of benevolence and turned to face him. "How may I help you?"

His forehead wrinkled. "I was just—I—"

Poor guy seemed completely fazed, even more embarrassed. The latter emotion I had caught with great clarity and a reciprocal shame washed over me as I imagined his naked body on top of mine. Needless to say, it was hard to remain unflustered.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥?

"Forgive me," he repeated, "I'm sorry but—have we met before?" His eyes glowed innocence; tonality – the most polite. None of the insults he had spat a week ago.

I frowned, pretending to be confused. "I do not believe so." I gazed into his powder blues with certainty. It deepened Ronan's frown. So I mimicked his expression to keep up the act, wondering if he could hear my pounding heart.

"Weird. This is—so strange. I could have sworn I've seen you before."

"Here, perhaps?" I tried to not sound sarcastic.

"No, it's…" A long pause. His eyes bore through me intently. He seemed momentarily enchanted by something. "Never mind." He shook his head, pushed out a tight smile and uttered, "Forgive me. For–bothering you. God bless."

I watched him walk back to his family and then out of the chapel, not throwing another glance at me or Val, or anyone.

Valeria jumped on me with questions once he was out of sight. "What the hell was that? What did he want?" She grumbled.

"I have no clue," I muttered.

"Well what did he say? Is it something about me?"

My brain processed her words. 𝘛𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘦? "No, about me."

"𝘠𝘰𝘶?" She sputtered. "What business does he have with 𝘺𝘰𝘶?"

I felt jealousy spiraling inside of her. I don't know how I picked it up, but I did. It was very perceptible, and visible in her hazel eyes that went cloudy with emotion.

"Val, he just asked if we had met before. He thought he saw me before."

"Well 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵!" She mouthed the curses. "He sees you here all the time. Pff. Genius."

"That's what I told him."

"And? What did he say?"

"He agreed and apologized for bothering me."

Valeria's shoulders dropped in relief. She snapped her fingers. "Of course…he's probably high again, this guy." She looked around to make sure no one heard her whisper, "I'll call him."

"When?"

"Now." She beamed. "Can you back me up pwe-e-ese? I won't be long. Just wanna say hi."

"Enjoy." I waved her off and off her happy ass went.

†††

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[music recommendation: "Empire" by Matt Emery]

Her 'I won't be long' took very long. That is, I did not see her for the remainder of the day. And only when I had fluffed my shitty flat pillow and was about to go to bed, in a somewhat okayish mood, the door creaked opened slowly and in came Valeria.

She halted in the entrance, pale as a ghost, looking at least 10 if not 15 years older. At the sight of her dead eyes my okeyish mood instantly evaporated. I hopped out of bed and to her in two steps.

"Val. What's wrong?"

She did not react, stood there like a wooden Indian.

"Val, you're scaring me. What's the matter with you?"

No response.

"Val, come on! Speak up!"

Silence.

"Andrea!" I shook her by the shoulders.

The girl that turned her head was indeed Andrea, for I had never seen Valeria in this state before. Her dumbfounded eyes found mine.

"He hanged himself, Eve." She whispered. "He's dead."

My arms dropped down like I were holding dumbbells.

"𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵."

Now the two of us stood like statues, not a finger twitched, not an eyelid blinked.

"How?" I pushed out some time later. "Where?"

"In his sister's bedroom."

"When?"

"Right after the mass."

"Why?"

She shot me a glare, face pained and eyes glossy.

"How the fuck—" she swallowed the chocking stream of tears, "—do I know 𝘸𝘩𝘺?"

I had never seen Valeria cry before.𝘝𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘢 and 𝘤𝘳𝘺 just did not fit in the same sentence. So when her bellowing filled the room, it stunned me. Andrea cried.

"Oh, honey I—I am so sorry. Come here, come here!" I pulled her into a hug, then slowly maneuvered her body to the bed where I sat her down. "Shhhhh…you'll be all right. It's all right…" I murmured as I rubbed her back in hopes to calm her down. "We'll get through this."

My words did not reach her, it seemed. Her animal roaring completely blocked all other sounds.

I let her cry until her eyes went fully dry, which had taken most of the night. By 4:30 a.m. she was exhausted, still devastated, staring into space with empty eyes, but also she seemed more accepting of the fact that Ronan was no more. And I could only watch her grief helplessly, guiltily, and just wait, for something, anything.

"I loved him." She croaked at last.

"I know Val. I know you did."

"No," she sounded like a sad echo. Or rather, like an echo of an echo. Too distant. "No you don't understand."

"I do un—" something stopped me from finishing whatever I wanted to say. I thought, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳? I was raped by someone I did not know. That was hard. Undoubtedly. But she lost someone she thought she knew her entire life. A soulmate. I never loved. But she did. What was harder? Rape of the body or heart? Perhaps her pain was greater. "You're right, Val...I can only imagine what you're going through..."

I wanted to marry him."

There was silence while I processed her words. She wanted to marry him…she never told me about it.

"He must have been special…" I uttered.

"Yes." her voice sounded old and rusty. "For making 𝘮𝘦 feel that way. He told me I was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen…you know? Despite all my scars he told me I was beautiful, Eve." She made a sound in her throat. A laugh? A moan? A what? I couldn't tell it was so weak. "He promised he'd take me away, far far away from here so no one could find us." She went on. "And I promised him I'd follow him wherever he'll go…and now he's gone. Eve…where the fuck…do I go now?"

I was afraid she would start crying again for how quivery her voice sounded. But no, her eyes were dry as deserts.

"It'll be alright, Val." I was repeating myself, but nothing else came to mind besides that and that 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵.

She looked at me absently, looking more through me. "You know what would make it alright?"

"What?"

"If hell existed."

Chills bit my spine. 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥?

"Why would you say that?"

She gave me a slow empty look. "You don't see?"

"I don't."

"It's simple math, Eve. I killed a man. Ronan killed himself. At least we'd burn in hell together."

Yes, she did…she told me some time back. She killed a man. Her own father. At the age of thirteen. In her own home. On her birthday. Stubbed him with a kitchen knife and sat next to his wheezing, pleading body until it bled to pale death. She hated him just like she hated God, for the first one raped her, and the second did nothing to stop it when she prayed.

He was a periodical alcoholic and a predator, Val said, who'd viciously rape his own daughter through her entire childhood, forcing himself on her with all his manly weight, taming her to bed with ropes, poking her skin with a fork or any tool sharp enough to scare her, choke her to silence, beat her to unconsciousness to prevent her resistance.

She told me that her mother would not believe her, or chose to disregard the many gashes on her daughter's body. "Love is wickedly blind," said Val, "mom loved him too much to see the ugly truth."

When Val showed me her broken body, I could hardly take in all the cuts and burns and discolorations scarring her back. And her arms, and her legs, and belly. And no one had any idea since she was covered head-to-toe in monastic fabric. "Fuckers like him don't deserve to live." She told me without a grain of remorse. "It is because of him I don't believe in miracles and all this angelic garbage." She sounded angry then, but now – devastated, without her lover who saw beyond her ruined flesh.

"Don't talk like this. You're not burning nowhe—"

𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘨! 𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘨!

Valeria sighed woefully at the bell. "Too bad. I'd like to keep my promise." Then she got up and without dropping another word left the room, dark as a shadow.