let the light in :: father jud duplenticy
diana had never been a morning person. waking up in a tiny room at our lady of perpetual fortitude only made it worse. sunlight slanted through the tall, narrow windows in sharp streaks, landing on the wooden floor in jagged lines. the air smelled like old stone, candle smoke, and something earthy and damp that made her nose wrinkle. not exactly the romantic βchurch experienceβ sheβd imagined. but here she was, suitcase in one hand, backpack sliding off the other shoulder, trying to convince herself this was fine.
the hallway outside was quiet. too quiet.
father jud duplenticy. standing halfway down the hall, tall, broad-shouldered, hands folded in front of him. his black cassock clung to him like it had been tailored to emphasize the strength in his shoulders, his neck just visible where the collar dipped slightly. and there it was β a tattoo peeking from the side of his neck, black ink curling in a shape that suggested movement, maybe a past fight, maybe a story he didnβt want anyone to ask about.
βhi,β she said, forcing a casual tone she didnβt feel. βiβm diana. iβmβ¦ here for the church program?β
judβs head tilted slightly, almost imperceptibly, like he was measuring her. βi was told to expect you,β he said, voice calm but firm. the kind of calm that made it impossible not to notice.
diana swallowed. βright. wellβ¦ glad to be here, i guess.β
he gave a slow nod. not a smile, not anything resembling warmth. just a single motion that said: i notice you. i see everything.
they started down the hallway. diana tried to make conversation. βsoβ¦ how long have you been here?β
βsince last autumn,β he said. βthe parish needed someone. it seemedβ¦ the right place.β his eyes flicked to her for a moment, scanning, judging, curious. the corner of the tattoo near his collar moved slightly as he shifted β a small, unconscious gesture that somehow felt like an invitation.
βright place,β diana echoed softly, looking away. she could feel her heartbeat picking up. that tattoo. that neck. that quiet intensity. βiβ¦ hope i can help, i guess. i mean, i signed up for this program because i wanted to learn, not justβ¦ live in a church.β
βlearning is allowed,β he said, voice low. βbut observing comes first.β
she blinked, startled at the tone. there was nothing harsh about it, but something in it made her pulse quicken β like standing too close to a storm and feeling the static in the air.
finally, they reached her room. small, furnished simply: a bed, desk, and a chair that had survived decades of parish residents. the window looked out over the courtyard, where early morning birds hopped along the stone paths, and the bell tower rose beyond them.
βwell,β diana said, setting down her bag, βthis isβ¦ home for now.β
βuntil the semester ends,β jud corrected softly. he didnβt sound harsh β just precise. almost careful, as if his words mattered more than most.
βright,β she said, brushing her hair from her face. βuntil then.β
he lingered in the doorway for a beat longer than necessary, just enough that diana felt her stomach flip. not because he was imposing β he wasnβt. but because she could feel the weight of his attention, the restrained energy of a man used to controlling everything around him. even something as small as lingering in a doorway felt like a test.
diana sank onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. that flash of tattoo at the side of his neck, partially hidden by the collar, lingered in her mind. strong, dangerous, intimate β a reminder that this man carried a past he wasnβt showing anyone, a past that made her heart race in a way she didnβt understand.
she shook her head. focus, diana. forensics. murder mystery. not priests.
but the moment she felt she might be able to follow that logic, she realized: she already couldnβt stop thinking about him.
and somewhere down the hall, father jud duplenticy was doing the same thing β counting the seconds until he could be alone again, while silently condemning himself for every thought of her that crossed his mind.
this was going to be a very, very long semester.
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