The monastery walls were cold and silent, as the nun began her last walk around the grounds to check that all was quiet for the night and she could retire to her cubicle. The small rooms were not bedrooms, nor did they have the privacy of one. Their entrances were covered by a thick blanket hanging over the opening, which held only a small single bed and a footlocker for her spare habits.
The sound of her footsteps was muffled under the long habit she wore. She passed the door to the street, cracked open the grill and viewed the street outside, pressing her face to the grill to see as far as she could in either direction. It was dark in the hallway and the soft footsteps behind her were almost undetected as she stood peering into the night. She closed the grill, locked it and was about to turn to continue her walk when a hand closed over her mouth, suppressing and muffled the scream that started, then fell silent as she recognized the smell and aroma of the person.
It was Carlos, the only man allowed to be inside the convent. He tended the convent gardens, and made the repairs necessary whenever required. The handy man authorized by the bishop. He had a small cottage at the bottom of the grounds and had a small, separate entrance that the previous tenant had installed to make it easier to come and go about his duties.
Carlos held Sister Evangeline, for that was the nun's name, holding her lightly in his embrace. He breathed a calming assurance into her ear and let her know it was him and not an intruder. She instantly relaxed, and turned around in his arms. Her face lifted to him, her headdress falling back over her shoulders.
"I thought you weren't coming, Cara." He cooed to her, softly.
"How could I not come to you, Carlos?" She said in reply
"Shhhh, not so loud, we don't want to be heard..."