61: His untold past

“Henry...” she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling with uncertainty. 

"Wake up! Come on..." she added.

Henry gasped with his eyes flew open. For a moment, neither of them moved, caught in a strange, intimate moment as their faces hovered inches apart. Khana’s breath caught in her throat, her heartbeat quickening as the space between them shrank.

Then, the world seemed to slow down when he met her eyes. It was unexplainable awkwardness when they realized how close their faces were. A little uncareful move and their lips would touch each other.

They were so close—too close. One careless movement and their lips would meet. Khana could feel the heat rising between them. The temptation was undeniable, yet the weight of her marriage and child held her back.

Henry blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to recognition as if he had suddenly returned to himself. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he loosened his grip on Khana’s waist, the warmth of his hands fading as the moment slipped away.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” Khana interrupted, standing up quickly, trying to regain her composure. “You were having a nightmare. I just wanted to wake you up. I want to ensure you're alright. I brought you tea, by the way."

Henry placed his palm on his face and heaved a heavy breath. He looked away, the vulnerability still etched on his face. His defenselessness was raw and palpable, and Khana could see the weight of something much deeper behind his eyes. 

"You called me 'Mom'..." Khana’s voice was soft, tentative. She was probing gently, wondering if Henry wanted to talk about what had just happened in his dream.

A flicker of surprise flashed across Henry’s face. His eyes darted nervously from side to side, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. Khana immediately regretted bringing it up. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” she offered quickly, trying to ease the tension.

But Henry surprised her by speaking, his voice heavy with a confession that had been buried for far too long. “I haven’t told anyone this, but I’m a murderer, Khana. And I thought... maybe if I served God here in this church, if I wore this collar, I could somehow free myself from that guilt.”

Khana stared at him, shocked, her mind struggling to process his words. She was too shocked and could only blubber the words, "What do you mean.."

Henry’s eyes darkened, his voice raw and trembling as he relived the memory. He starts saying, “One night... my father came home drunk. He started fighting with my mom, screaming, hitting. I couldn’t take it anymore. I snapped. I pushed him. I didn’t mean to—" his voice cracked.

"But he fell. And when he hit the floor, there was blood everywhere. It happened so fast. And then... the house caught fire. I tried to save my mom, but I was too late. I couldn’t save her," he added.

He paused, his breath shaky, haunted by the memory. “I killed them both, Khana."

"I killed my father... my mother... I killed them. And now I’ve rotted here, hiding behind these walls, trying to pay for what I did. But nothing can ever make up for it," he uttered once more.

Khana’s heart broke for him, for the torment he had carried alone all these years. She took a hesitant step closer, her voice filled with gentle compassion. “It wasn’t your fault, Henry. It was an accident. You couldn’t have known. You were just a child... trying to protect your mother. No one blames you, and I’m sure your mother wouldn’t want you to live with this guilt.”

Henry let out a bitter laugh, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “That’s comforting, but I’ve already made my decision. I’ve already set my life on this path. I’ll repent for the rest of my days, and maybe one day, God will forgive me.”

Khana’s heart ached as she listened to his words, and a sudden, bold question slipped from her lips before she could stop herself. “Are you sure this is what God would have wanted for you? To live in penance forever?”

"Are you sure that was what his plan for you?" says Khanna. 

The lady thought of a way to excuse herself as she realized her statement sounded like she still wished the priest to doubt his faith and live outside the church. She doesn't want to get things to be awkward.

“I should go check on Kharl,” she said quickly, stepping back toward the door, her heart pounding in her chest. The moment had grown too heavy, too dangerous, and she needed to escape before she crossed a line that could never be undone.

Henry watched her retreat, a flicker of pain in his eyes as she left. But as Khana disappeared through the door, he felt something shift inside him. The confession that had weighed him down for so long had finally been spoken, and in a strange way, it felt like a thorn had been pulled from his heart.

Meanwhile, Khana caressed her heart and uttered, "It shouldn't beat this hard. It can't be..." 

She tried to compost herself by walking back and forth. When calmed, she watched her sleeping son. 

"I didn't know he had a deeper reason for choosing priesthood than being my lover again. I was too selfish to seduce him back then, just to beg him to leave the church and get back to me," Khana murmured, reflecting on her past actions.

She realized Henry was crucifying himself by giving his life to the priesthood to wash off his guilt, but there she was, all she had in mind was to have him by hook or by crook. 

On the other hand, alone in the darkened room, Henry stared at the empty doorway, his mind swirling with uncertainty. Was this really the life he was meant to live? Was his penance truly the only way forward, or was there something else—some other path—calling him?

Khana’s words echoed in his mind, louder than he wanted them to.

'Was this what God had wanted for him?'