Chapter 6 His Return

A week. A full week of silence.

The only sign Daniel had ever been in my house was the faint scent of cedar that still lingered in the guest room when you entered and the scream that I remembered that echoed in my head at 3 AM.

I'd thrown myself into work. I'd scrubbed the bar floors until they shone, ignored Maggie's pointed looks and Mrs. Henderson and her minions' triumphant sneers. I'd almost convinced myself I was moving on.

Then he came back.

I was on my knees behind the bar, restocking the newly supplied vodka, when the door opened, cutting off the afternoon sun. I didn't look up. I was tired, and I just wanted to wrap up quickly.

"Be right with you," I called out, shoving bottles into place.

The person didn't move or even speak. The silence stretched, thick and heavy. When I finally glanced up, I wiped a strand of hair from my face and froze.

Father Daniel stood just inside the doorway. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. His hair was messy, his jaw tight, and his gaze lowered. He held a single, worn duffel bag in one hand. Same one he came to my house with.

My heart did a stupid, traitorous leap before I tried to compose myself. "You."

His expression didn't flicker. "Elena."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I stood up, my knees stressing me out. "Forget your favorite hair tie?"

"The diocese did not accept my resignation." The words were flat, robotic. "They deemed it a 'crisis of faith,' not a true calling. They've mandated I return to my post and continue my duties under supervision pending... spiritual guidance."

He said it like he was reading a court order. Because he basically was.

I stared at him, the damp rag forgotten in my hand. "They... forced you to come back?"

"Until a formal review is complete, yes. The rectory is still uninhabitable." He didn't move. "My stay with you is... still a necessity."

The way he said 'necessity' made it sound like a prison sentence.

I laughed, short and sharp. "Wow. So you're not here because you want to be, to come back and apologize for causing a scene the entire week. YOU'RE here because you were ordered to be, I'm I right?"

A tiny muscle twitched in his jaw. "The arrangements are unfortunate. I will be as unobtrusive as possible."

"Unobtrusive," I repeated, spitting the word. "Right. No. Absolutely not."

His head tilted, finally looking directly at me. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," I snapped, "there's no way in hell I'm taking you in again. You treated my hospitality like shit the first time, remember? You screamed my house down, shut me out, walked out without a word, and now you come crawling back because you've got nowhere else to go? No. Fuck no."

He blinked once, slowly. "I had no control over the decisions that were made because...."

"Don't you dare," I cut him off, pointing a finger at him. "Don't you stand there and act like you didn't make choices. You want me to believe you had no say in how you treated me? You shut me out, Daniel. Or should I call you Father now? You made it perfectly clear that I was nothing more than a roof to you. You don't get to come back here and expect me to forget that."

His jaw flexed. His hand tightened on the strap of the duffel. "Elena, please, I had no choice."

The word was so soft, it almost didn't sound like him.

I froze for half a second. But the burn in my chest didn't ease. "No. Go find somewhere else. Sleep in the church basement, in a motel, hell, under a pew for all I care. But not here."

His eyes dropped to the floor, as if he was swallowing something heavy. "I have nowhere else to go."

"Not my problem. I'm sure Mrs Henderson will be glad to take you in." I said coldly.

The silence between us stretched. His shoulders squared like he was bracing against a storm, then he turned without another word and walked out the door.

I stood there, chest heaving, breathing out the air I was holding in the entire time, the rag still clenched in my hand like a weapon. My whole body shook, but I refused to crumble. Not again. Never again.

Hours later, after last call, I was wiping down tables when Maggie slipped in through the side door. She leaned against the counter, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

"He's outside," she said.

I didn't need to ask who.

"And?" I muttered, tossing a rag into the bucket.

"And he's sitting on the docks, Elena. In the cold. Looks like a damn stray dog waiting for someone to kick him. You're really gonna leave him out there all night?"

I rolled my eyes and grabbed another chair to stack. "Yes. That's exactly what I'm gonna do."

Maggie sighed, exasperated. "Come on. I'm not saying forgive him. I'm saying don't let him freeze his ass off. You're not heartless, no matter how hard you try to play it."

I slammed the chair down harder than necessary. "He doesn't deserve it."

"Maybe not. But you're still gonna do it. Because you'd never forgive yourself if he got sick or something worse happened out there. You care, Elena. That's why you're so angry."

I glared at her. She wasn't wrong, and that pissed me off even more.

"Fucking fine," I muttered. "But he'd better stay the hell out of my way. If he breathes wrong, I wouldn't hesitate to throw his priestly ass out. He's not the only one who can act out the cold part."

Maggie smirked, satisfied. "I'll go tell him."

Minutes later, Daniel walked back in behind her, duffel still in hand, looking every bit the penitent. He didn't say a word, just watched me with that unreadable face.

I didn't even glance at him as I grabbed my keys. "Come on. Let's get this over with."

He followed me out silently, his steps heavy behind me.

At the house, I pointed at the hallway without looking at him. "Guest room. Same rules as before. Don't bother me. Don't wake me. Don't assume this means anything."

His voice was low. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," I snapped. "Just... stay out of my way."

I walked off before he could say anything else.

Behind me, the guest room door clicked shut.

And somehow, even with him back under my roof, the house felt colder than before.