Mae had noticed him the first time he walked into Hell's Angels two weeks ago. The same dark eyes, the familiar furrow in his brow—Father Charlie, though now dressed in casual clothes, had walked into the club like a man with a secret. It had taken every ounce of control she had to keep dancing, to keep her composure, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't recognize her. Not yet.

But tonight, everything felt different.

As she swayed to the rhythm of the music, Mae's gaze darted toward the corner where Father Charlie sat again. He had returned for the third time in two weeks, always sitting in the same booth, sipping his drink slowly, his eyes distant, as if lost in thought. To everyone else, he was just another man seeking escape in the pulsating music and flashing lights. But to Mae, he was a reminder of everything she had tried to leave behind.

Father Charlie, once a devout priest, had been the moral compass of her old life. He had been her mentor, her guide, the one she had confessed her fears and doubts to. The man who had looked at her with a kindness she hadn't known from anyone else.

But that was years ago, and Mae—no, Seraphina—had long buried that part of her life. Yet here he was, sitting in the back of a club that catered to people looking for more than just a night out. And it terrified her.

Mae moved across the stage, her body moving in time with the music, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn't stop thinking about him, about what he was doing here. Did he recognize her? Had he come looking for her, or was this just a strange coincidence?

Her thoughts spiraled as she continued her routine, each movement mechanical, rehearsed, but her heart wasn't in it tonight. Father Charlie's presence in the club was starting to feel like more than just a coincidence, and it was throwing her off balance.

When the set ended, Mae quickly made her way backstage, her breath coming in shallow bursts. She leaned against the wall of her dressing room, trying to calm the racing thoughts in her mind. What was he doing here? What did he want?

She knew she had to confront him, to figure out if he knew who she really was. She couldn't keep hiding behind the makeup and the stage lights forever. Not with him here. Not with the past so dangerously close to unraveling everything she had built.

Mae wiped the sweat from her forehead and slipped into her simple black dress, pulling her hair into a loose bun. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. It was time to face him.

She stepped out of her dressing room and made her way toward the bar area, her heart pounding in her chest. The club was still buzzing with energy, the crowd oblivious to the turmoil raging inside her. But Mae was focused, her eyes scanning the room until she found him.

Father Charlie was seated at his usual table, his eyes fixed on the glass in front of him, as if it held the answers to whatever was troubling him. Mae's pulse quickened as she approached, her steps slowing as she reached his table.

"Can I join you?" she asked softly, her voice barely audible over the music.

Father Charlie looked up, his expression softening as he met her gaze. For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes, but it passed as quickly as it had come.

"Of course," he replied, gesturing to the seat across from him.

Mae slid into the seat, her heart hammering in her chest. She didn't know where to start, how to even begin to explain why she was here, why she had left everything behind. She studied him for a moment, taking in the way his hair had grayed slightly at the temples, the weariness in his eyes.

"You've been here a lot lately," she said, trying to keep her voice light, casual. "Is everything alright?"

Father Charlie smiled faintly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Just needed a change of scenery, I guess."

Mae nodded, though she didn't believe him. There was something more to his visits, something he wasn't saying. And it scared her.

"I never thought I'd see someone like you in a place like this," she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "What brings you here, really?"

Father Charlie's gaze lingered on her for a moment before he sighed, leaning back in his seat. "Life has a funny way of leading you to places you never expected, doesn't it?"

Mae swallowed hard, her fingers gripping the edge of the table. She wanted to ask him if he remembered her, if he knew who she really was. But the words caught in her throat. How could she ask that without giving herself away?

"I suppose it does," she said softly. "But some places... some places you don't ever expect to see again."

Father Charlie's eyes flickered with something—recognition, maybe—but he quickly looked away, as if he couldn't quite place where he knew her from. Mae's heart sank. Maybe he didn't remember. Maybe he was just here to forget something from his own life.

But as the silence stretched between them, she couldn't help but feel like he was hiding something. Just like she was.

"I didn't catch your name," he said finally, his voice quiet.

Mae hesitated for a moment before answering. "Mae."

"Mae," he repeated, as if testing the sound of it on his lips. He smiled faintly, but there was a sadness in his eyes. "It suits you."

She nodded, though the weight of the lie sat heavily on her chest. She wasn't Mae. Not really. But she couldn't be Seraphina anymore either. Not with him sitting across from her, not with the life she had built on the line.

For a moment, she thought about telling him the truth. About confessing everything, the way she had once confessed her sins to him years ago. But she knew it was too dangerous. There were too many questions, too many risks. And if he didn't recognize her, maybe it was better that way.

"Why here?" she asked after a long pause. "Why Hell's Angels?"

Father Charlie sighed, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. "I needed an escape, I guess. Something to take my mind off things."

Mae's chest tightened. He was running, just like she had been. But from what?

She didn't push him for more. Instead, she sat in silence, watching him, trying to figure out what had brought him to this place. But as the minutes ticked by, she realized that neither of them was ready to share the truth. Not yet.

"I should get back to work," Mae said finally, standing up. "But... if you ever need to talk, I'm here."

Father Charlie nodded, his eyes following her as she walked away. As Mae disappeared into the crowd, she couldn't shake the feeling that their paths were crossing again for a reason. But what that reason was, she wasn't sure.

All she knew was that her past was no longer something she could outrun.

And neither could he.