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The Lord works in mysterious ways, he had no doubt about that.
It was indeed a surprise for every cardinal when, all of the sudden, Cardinal Bellini got 45 votes on the fifth ballot. No one expected that, not even Thomas Lawrence, who gasped loudly in the Sistine Chapel once it was announced. Tedesco was visibly shocked — his 30 votes didn’t seem so threatening right now.
The only one who was not shocked at all was Giulio Sabbadin — the man that earned those votes for him. Sabbadin hadn’t slept that night, planning, scheming, plotting… Out of cigarettes now — from sharing so many as an excuse for conversations — he was visibly exhausted when they left the chapel. But Thomas did not see it, so excited and eager to find Bellini.
Aldo was the first to get up — to run away, maybe — but Thomas caught him before he could leave the chapel. Thomas linked his arm with Aldo’s as he whispered in his ear.
“Congratulations, my friend. I can hardly wait to hear your name.”
And even though he was terrified with the idea of becoming Pope, the light he saw in Thomas’ eyes was sufficient to make Aldo Bellini smile widely. He used his other hand to squeeze Thomas’ arm.
“If it’s God’s will…”
Then, on the sixth ballot, Aldo’s eyes become unfocused. More than 80 votes. Where did this come from? He did not see Sabbadin applauding and smiling from across the room, proud of his own success. He did not see people standing up to applaud him, nor did he see Tedesco visibly outraged right in front of him. The only thing Aldo Bellini was able to focus on was the eyes of Thomas Lawrence chasing him in the crowd until he reached him, his fingers crossed in front of him, in prayer. A beautiful glare navigated those wide blue eyes of his, his adoration and love were all directed at Aldo. The way Aldo always had wanted and never could quite demand it out loud.
Thomas refused to look at the words in the book. He was prepared for this specific moment since before the conclave started. He had dreamed about it. He knew it by heart now.
“Acceptasne electionem de te canonice factam in Summum Pontificem?”
Aldo was trapped in a world where only Thomas existed. His brown eyes only saw the man whose doubt appeared to have vanished. He was not about to become the Pope of the Church, the Holy Father of the masses. He was about to become the bridge between Heaven and Earth only because he could never fail Thomas Lawrence again. No , he wanted to say. Non sum dignus . He is going to be a terrible Pope. He had known that for ages now. Aldo Bellini wasn’t particularly kind. His humility, perhaps one of the qualities he admired most in the late Holy Father, was almost invisible beneath the blanket of intellectual arrogance that emerged not only in his words but also on his face: a Pope should not make faces when hearing someone say something he does not agree with. But he did.
But he could never say no to Thomas, not again. Not now. And Aldo Bellini understands in that moment that he would do everything in the world to retain that beautiful admiration and devotion he sees in Thomas' eyes directed at him forever. Even if it means becoming something he doesn’t want to.
Even if it's crowded in the Sistine Chapel, over a hundred pairs of eyes looking at him, he doesn’t feel watched by anyone else besides Thomas and God himself. In a chapel, before his very best friend, asking him if he accepts a new path in his life… Aldo Bellini feels like a groom. And that feels like a marriage. A sacred marriage, like all others. In another life, he would love to stand in the Sistine Chapel wearing a fancy tuxedo and accepting sharing a bond with Thomas through a lifetime.
He doesn’t want to become Pope. But he wants the love that comes with it. The admiration, the authority. And these profoundly human desires were obscuring his very solid fear and knowing. He doesn’t want to become Pope.
But a small part of him, a desperate part wants it. And that would be enough.
He may not be the perfect Pope the Church needs, but he would be the best he could be.
So he doesn’t need to fake the soft smile that appeared in his face, because his happiness is directed at Thomas. We won. Then he answers.
“Accepto.”
“Quo nomine vis vocari?”
They had rehearsed that dialogue many times in their minds for three days now.
“Matthaeus”
The name so easy on his tongue, the name he has chosen on his first day as Cardinal. His Papacy — and his face — would be known for radical, difficult and necessary changes. Same way as the apostle. Same way as himself.
***
Now in white, Aldo felt so distant from Thomas, still and forever wearing his red cassock. But then Thomas dismissed all staff to be alone with him for at least five minutes. Only God knows when they would be alone together after the announcement.
Aldo was seated on the bench as Thomas approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“How are you feeling, my friend?”
Aldo didn’t answer right away, but placed his hand above Thomas’, squeezing it hard. His eyes were focused on his shoes.
“Terrified.” He whispered.
And then Thomas used his other hand to lift his chin, forcing him to look at those beautiful and hopeful eyes of his. For Aldo, it was Thomas a divine figure, not him.
“You were chosen by God.” No, I was chosen by men. God had nothing to do with it. “And you should never again look up for anyone else.”
And then Thomas kneeled before him, his two hands on Aldo’s lap. Bellini laughed, tears in his eyes, and never felt more loved in his life. He cupped Thomas' face between his hands, caressing his smooth skin with an intimacy that would’ve shocked the entire world.
“Please, don’t leave me. I cannot do it without you.”
Thomas caught his hands and kissed each palm with love and care. Aldo closed his eyes, letting himself be adored. His body boiled with the touch, the white on his new robes not matching his red and burning cheeks.
“If you will have me.”
Aldo opened his eyes and in a second and much more difficult act of explosive courage, he leaned forward and kissed Thomas Lawrence on the lips, briefly. As they parted, Bellini was crying and desperate. He had to be sure if they would continue that path. So he asked again.
“Will you stay with me?”
A question. An acceptance. A kiss. They were now married before God. And then, Matthew , 19:6.
So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.
“Till death do us apart, my dear.”
***
When Aldo Bellini appeared on the balcony as crowds cheered for him, the blue in the sky was the same tone as Thomas’ eyes. And that was enough.