Chapter 10: Old Habits
Buffy took a moment to catch her breath and swallow, her throat having grown incredibly dry from moaning and crying her release. As reality came crashing back down and the buzz from her orgasm subsided, she remembered. She could have sworn he’d uttered those three little words to her. She watched William close his eyes and roll off of her body and lay on his back, covering his eyes with a limp arm. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and his chest rose and fell with harsh breaths.
Buffy turned on her side and curled into herself, watching or waiting for him to say something. Even though his chest was slick with sweat and his skin still glowed from sex, even though he was hiding his face from her, she knew he was troubled about something. Had he regretted saying it? Had she misheard what he’d moaned into her ear not moments before? She opened her mouth to say something and quickly stomped down the words when he flung the sheets off his body and climbed out of bed. He stood with his back to her for a moment, his hands on his hips and his head hanging low. He was still panting and he raised one arm to scratch the back of his head, an involuntary gesture as he seemingly searched the floor for something important. Without turning around he said, “I’m going to get washed up.”
She sat up slightly, holding the sheets against her breasts and she nodded as if he could see her. He looked at her over his shoulder for a second, and either he intended to say something and let it go or he’d forgotten because he quickly turned back around and made his way to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Buffy frowned and sat up against the headboard, listening to the shower as it turned on, the glass door clicking behind him as he stepped in. What happened?
William woke her up in the most heavenly of ways, his tongue bathing her clit with such tenderness and that arrogant smirk on his face. But he wasn’t there with her, she knew. Even when he entered her, moved over her and brought her to climax, she knew his mind was elsewhere. And then he’d said it, she knew he had. No woman would ever miss hearing those words. And he’d said them so instinctually, as if it was a reflex. Perhaps that’s all it was, like those stories she’d often heard of women crying out another man’s name, names they didn’t even know. Sometimes people just said weird things in the throes of passion.
But not William. Never had he mentioned love before, and never did she expect it.
Buffy may have been an eighteen year old, but she wasn’t innocent, nor was she a fool when it came to relationships. Her parent’s relationship only may have set the groundwork for her own self-doubt. They traveled the world, spent far too much money on things they’d never enjoy and spent their nights with an array of different partners. She’d known since she was very little that her parents had an open relationship. Before they’d discovered the benefits of a boarding school where they could ship her off and continue their life of debauchery and lavish spending, oftentimes Buffy was forced to tag along on their parties. She’d seen things that no child should ever see, but because it was her parents, because it was the only life she knew, she never knew it was wrong until she was older. She never knew that having a six-year-old camped in a corner with a box of Legos while her father entertained his secretary in his office was just short of child abuse and was most certainly neglect. She knew that drugs were illegal, but when her parents hosted extravagant parties featuring a variety of substances, she never batted an eye. After all, these were upper-class people who obviously knew better and surely had taken the precautions necessary to stay out of trouble, or so she told herself. When her mother handed her a credit card and told her to be scarce for the weekend at the age of fourteen, she didn’t think there was anything amiss. Buffy was too excited about the shopping spree and feeling like an adult, getting her own hotel room and basking in alone time to realize that the frequency that this happened should have raised an eyebrow or two. She knew her mother was fucking her CPA, but it wasn’t until she’d made friends of her own that she realized something was horribly off. Constantly moving from city to city, traveling all over the world and staying in a multitude of hotels made making friends a difficult task for Buffy. So she never tried, until she was forced to spend a summer with her cousin Faith.
Faith had a similar upbringing, and in that vein, they formed an instant attachment. Where Buffy withdrew, Faith came out in the open with her rebellion and screwed anything that moved. As Buffy’s parents took delight in an assortment of sexual partners, Faith’s were busy snorting their hard earned money up their noses. But both children knew all too well the feeling of neglect, knew that their parents used money to solve their problems, and knew that they weren’t wanted. So they clung to one another for comfort and Faith took Buffy under her wing, teaching her the pleasures of the flesh. Buffy had been scared of it, having witnessed more than her fair share of graphic sex, but it was Faith who forced her to take the plunge. They’d rented a hotel room in New York and hosted a party. They’d passed out fliers on the street to anyone who wanted to come. They didn’t care, it wasn’t their dime.
Buffy lost her virginity that night. She was fifteen. It had happened so abruptly that she barely had time to register what took place before the man was pulling his pants up and leaving the bedroom. She never saw him again.
Buffy watched William emerge from the bathroom, wearing a towel wrapped around his waist and an expression she couldn’t read. He walked to the closet and began rummaging through his clothes.
The second time she had sex, she was drunk. The guy felt so bad afterwards that he took her shopping the next day, explaining over and over that he had no idea that she was a minor or that she was inebriated. This twenty-something man had shown her affection, held her hand, even. When he tried to release his grip, she held on tighter, not wanting to break the connection. But she was so young, he’d said. He rubbed the top of her head like a brother and fake-slugged her arm with his fist before he left without ever seeing her again. Perhaps she was doing something wrong for them to keep leaving her; perhaps she was too young to understand. So she upped the ante and set out to prove to herself that she was worth a second go, though it never worked out in her favor.
It wasn’t until she set eyes on Father William that everything changed. Her first day of school was daunting, at best. She’d been home-schooled most of her life so her parents could maintain their travels, and having to attend a structured environment was frightening. She sat in Father William’s office as her parents went over the rules, expectations, guidelines and expenses with her new priest. She stared at the floor, missing the concern in William’s eyes when he dared to glance at her throughout their meeting. When his low voice spoke her name, her eyes darted upwards and she realized then that they were alone. Her parents had left without a word and William’s piercing blue eyes searched hers for any emotion. What could she say? That she wouldn’t miss them? That they had been anxious to get rid of her for the past sixteen years? She couldn’t, not when he looked at her that way. Not when this man, whom she’d never met before, who knew nothing about her, looked at her as if he cared. Somehow, she didn’t have to say anything to him, because in the next instant, he was crouched on his knees in front of her and holding her hands, assuring her that God loved his children more than her parents ever could, that he would care for her and listen to her should she ever need to talk.
He was so sincere that it took all her strength not to break down and cry. He’d tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled warmly at her, pulling her to a standing position and led her to her room. Sister Margaret was there, helping her with her things and getting her settled, while Father William stood watch, as if waiting for her to say something. When she didn’t, he sighed dejectedly and squeezed her shoulder before turning around and leaving. Every touch from him stirred something within her. It was a foreign feeling, this affection that he so openly doled out over the next few weeks. Perhaps her initial reaction to him was misguided, replacing affection with sexual urges. But sex was all she knew when it came to reaching out to someone. She’d felt so guilty for those feelings that she wanted punishment. Here was a man who’d shown nothing but kindness to her and all she could do was fantasize about him fucking her. She didn’t deserve his kindness, didn’t deserve his affections. She never had before. But today, he said he loved her.
William pulled his leather belt through his belt buckle and fastened it after tucking his black shirt into his trousers. She watched as he carefully adjusted his priest collar, buttoned the snaps on his shirt sleeves and slid his long black coat over his shoulders.
“Why are you wearing that?” It wasn’t an accusation or a judgment, but the look on his face told her that’s how he’d taken it.
He turned around to look at his reflection in the mirror above the dresser, buttoning his coat methodically. “It’s Sunday, Buffy,” he said quietly.
“Oh.”
His fists pressed into the bureau and he leaned onto them, his shoulders hunching slightly and he sighed. “I can’t change what I am overnight,” he said hoarsely, talking to her reflection in the mirror. He opened the top drawer and pulled out his Bible, fanning the pages for a moment before he turned around to face her. “You can come with me if you like.”
“Do you want me to?” Buffy wrapped the sheets around her body as she got out of bed. She took a step forward and halted when his head dropped to the floor.
“Why would I not want you to come to church with me?”
“I don’t know…you seemed sad, after…”
“I have a duty, Buffy. A responsibility and a sacred vow to Christ.”
She tilted her head, wondering where this was coming from. She’d never questioned his priesthood, never asked him to change anything about himself. But the way he spoke now seemed more like it was for him than for her to hear. She walked towards him and placed her hand on his arm. “I know.”
His head shot up then and he looked at her. “Do you?”
“William…have I done something to upset you?”
William looked at her, wrapped in white sheets and her golden hair cascading down her back and shoulders and clenched his jaw. “Who am I kidding?”
She barely heard his statement but worry started eating its way through her stomach when he pulled away from her. “Please tell me what’s wrong,” she pleaded, her eyes stinging.
“I have to go.”
“Please talk to me.”
“I’m going to be late,” he said lamely, making his way to the door and checking his watch. “I’ll be back at noon, ok?”
She nodded, wiping a tear away from her cheek. She sat on the edge of the bed and watched him open the hotel door. “William?”
He stared at the door knob. “Yes?”
“You’re coming back, right?”
At the sound of her strained voice, he turned to look at her, concern washing over his features. “Of course I am. Why would you…”
She shook her head and forced a smile. “Never mind. Just…come back.”
He stood in the doorway for a minute, looking at the floor and then to her face. He gave her a smile that bore no reassurance before he said, “Good bye, Buffy,” shutting the door quietly behind him.