There really wasn't time to protest, or even ask questions. Questions did swim through his thoughts, though; lazy, slow things like if she were going to try an intervention.
Although, he had to admit, being a cop meant she could do a lot more than try.
Nothing was making sense.
"What? We couldn't, just... ?"
Well, no, if she didn't want anyone to know she'd been to Confession and needed a priest. Was that... a sign of weakness? Or instability? The thought was unpleasant.
"Yes, I've been... defrocked."
He still couldn't bring himself to think of the formal word. Not since he'd last heard it.
"I'm sorry. I know it's a a shock, that, and, me being here. But it doesn't make anything I said less true, or Him less real."
Please believe me.
Rory wanted to ask Daysha Jackson why she hadn't come back, but instinctively knew that would put her on the defensive and just make things worse. Crossing his arms, he tugged at his collar, as if echoing what he'd done their last meeting. Except this wasn't his house.
He wished he'd brought the beer.