We got a couple of raised eyebrows when we returned to the party but aside from Beca’s smirk, there was no comment.“So, what is your relationship ...ith Jacob?” Dad asked when we’d gathered for Sunday lunch. Mom had put a pot roast in the slow cooker. Olivia’s family of five and mine of four had to be a little intimidating to her. Her eyes went wide and I thought for a moment she’d bolt. Dad went on. “Are you a coach? A mentor? A therapist? A girlfriend?”“I ... uh ... No ... I mean, I think Jacob. I need you…I love you,” her words flowed with her tears as her half-compliant body struggled in the direction of the small side-altar. It felt immediately warmer from the rows of glowing candles supported by a massive wrought iron stand on the other side of the immense wooden altar rail. Leaning in over it, Father Tom released her hand and pressed it to the edge of the stand. Her feet instinctively spread to maintain balance as the wide rail pressed the front of her thighs. Arching her body. More

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