Three months.

It’s funny how time flies, isn’t it? And it seems that the clocks have sped up the moment Connor came to live with us. But not all is perfect with the world. To start with, it’s been three months since that moment we shared at the church. Three months! And we haven’t been together since then (now, I don’t need to explain to you what I mean by together, do I?).

In a way, I don’t want to push him too hard. Our family needs him more than anything, especially now that my brother seems hell bent on ruining it, and so I can’t afford to push him away. But, Jesus, it’s hard to do! Every time I see him, I just want to push him down onto the floor and ride him straight into oblivion.

Okay, I gotta focus right now. I’ve got stuff to do, and I’ve already spent too much time daydreaming.

“Argh,” I sigh, rubbing my eyes with my fingers before I dive into my books again. Damn, I’m so tired!

I’ve spent the whole day in the family library, and I’ve gone through so many books that I’ve already lost count. Since my father decided to move our focus into shipping, I’ve been trying to learn more about it. After all, if I want a shot at defeating Earl, I have to be prepared.

But it isn’t easy; changing our business focus means that I have to study a whole new industry from the ground up. To make matters worse, I have my brother breathing down my neck all the time, which kinda makes me feel as if I’m on a race against the clock. Not to mention the fact that Connor’s on my mind all the time… Those two times we were together really messed me up and, even though a quarter of a year has passed, I still can’t stop obsessing about him.

“Look at her… from party-girl to bookworm.”

I turn around on my seat and there he is, leaning against the library doorway with a flask in his right hand. His hair is slightly disheveled, and the tie around his neck has been loosened. It seems that my lovely brother got an early start today.

“Go get drunk somewhere else, Earl,” I tell him offhandedly, returning my attention to the book I’m reading. I try to focus on the words in front of me, but it’s hard to do that when Earl’s strong whisky breath seems to be gripping me by the throat.

“Why? It’s not like you’re doing anything important. You’re wasting your time, you know?” he continues, taking the flask to his lips and drinking heartily.

“Seriously, Earl. Get the fuck out of my sight or --”

“Or what? You’ll slap me again?”

“No, this time I’ll rip your head off, and then I’ll play soccer with it,” I hiss and, even though my words seem kind of an exaggeration, I really mean them. There’s a beautiful sword hanging over my father’s office door, and the blade looks very sharp… Ah, Earl’s definitely lucky I’m not some kind of murderous psychopath, or else I’d be putting that sword to good use.

“Oh, I’m so scared,” he laughs, throwing his hands up in the air in a mocking gesture. “Pfft … seriously, Clarise, do you really think dad’s going to go forward with this shipping nonsense?”

“What are you talking about? You were there at the meeting, three months ago, and I believe dad told you how things would play out. Besides, Connor sided with him, so I don’t see how you’ll stop dad from moving into shipping.”

“Oh, Connor sided with dad… So fucking what? Am I supposed to be pissing my pants because that fake priest is messing with dad’s head?” Scoffing again, he runs one hand through his hair and gives me one of his gruesome grins. Then, he lifts the flask up again, but then lowers it as he realizes that it’s empty.

“They’re going to announce it at the next board meeting. So, unless you plan to murder someone in the family, there’s nothing you can do,” I say, already losing my patience. Why the hell is he jabbing at me like this? Does he know something that I don’t?

“Don’t be so sure ‘bout that, little ‘sis,” he whispers, taking a few strides toward me. Looking down, he then leans in, the alcohol on his breath making me wince. “I don’t like to lose, you know? And I sure as hell won’t lose to Connor.”

“Get the fuck out of my face,” I growl, placing my hands on his chest and giving him one hard push. He stumbles back awkwardly and, for a moment, I almost think he’s going to fall down; instead, he reaches for the doorway and manages to remain standing up.

That grin remains on his face, though, and that’s what worries me the most. What does he have on Connor to feel so smug? What kind of game is Earl playing right now? I have no idea, but one thing’s for sure, I must talk with Connor right away.

“Where are you going? Meeting your boyfriend?” Earl shouts after me as I hurry past him, bumping my shoulder against his. “TELL HIM I SEND MY REGARDS!” he shouts louder again, and his voice echoes through the empty hallway as I hurry down the stairway.

“Have you seen Connor?” I ask one of the drivers outside, standing next to the limo as he smokes a cigarette. As he sees me get out of the house, he throws the cigarette onto the ground and crushes it under his foot.

“No, ma’am. I haven’t seen him all day,” he responds, taking his hat off and clutching it to his chest. “Have you tried the chapel? I’ve seen him around there a lot lately.”

“The chapel…” I whisper to myself, turning my head toward the building flanking Connor’s guest house. His car is parked in front of the house, so he should be around. “Thank you,” I tell the driver with a quick nod, and then I start making my way down the cobbled road that leads to both the guest house and the chapel, my heels clicking anxiously against the ground.

Just to make sure, I stop in front of his house and knock, rapping my knuckles against the frame of the door. “Connor!” I call, but silence is my only response. “Crap!” I mutter, and then hurry down to the chapel.

The two double doors are closed, but as I reach for the handle and turn, one of them swings back. The shadows loom large inside the chapel, and that familiar silence wraps itself around me like a long lost friend. Careful to not disturb that silence, I start walking down the small aisle, looking from one side to the other in the hopes of seeing Connor.

But, no, he doesn’t seem to be anywhere.

And that’s when I see him; he’s kneeling just to the side of the altar, inside the large confessionary that was set up there. He’s whispering so softly that I can’t make out his words, but it seems like he’s confessing his sins. Which is kinda weird, we don’t have a ‘round-the-clock pastor, so who the hell is he confessing to?

He has his back turned to me, and it seems like he didn’t hear me walk in. As such, I walk silently toward him, and then I stop as I realize that he’s completely alone. There’s no one on the other side of the confessionary…

He’s confessing to himself. We’re alone in the chapel, again.

Well, you know what?

It’s been too long since I last confessed my sins. Maybe it’s time I fix that.