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Father Michael
“Father Michael!” I shouted to the elderly priest, “Father Michael! It’s good to see you again.”
“Hello Brian,” he responded by taking my outstretched hand. “It’s been a long time. I’m surprised you seem so pleased to see me… You know, after what happened the last time we were together.”
I sensed his apprehension. “It’s ok Father.. I don’t blame you for what happened.”
“I wish I could feel the same,” he said quietly. “I should have known better. I’m really sorry if it’s any consolation. I ask God for forgiveness every single night.”
“Seriously Father.. It wasn’t your fault.”
“It’s nice of you to say so Brian, but I still feel terribly guilty.”
“Don’t,” I replied, “I was the silly fcuker who asked her to marry me.”