Obsession by Ivory Quinn Page B

her experiences, and realised for the first time how angry she was with God. Ever since the accident that had taken away her mother and father, she’d told herself that God didn’t exist. If there was a God, how could He allow such things to happen? How could He have allowed her tiny world to be ripped apart by something as innocuous as a sheet of black ice on the road?
    Gabriel had taken everything she knew about herself and thrown it out of the window, all the while playing her this music that forced her to examine the darkest recesses of her being. As each not e trembled and ached in the air around her, she couldn’t deny that she wanted the comfort of a church, of a benevolent God. In accepting that, she realised she had never believed He didn’t exist. In her hurt she’d just been denying Him. The revelation was shattering. How could she want comfort from a faith that hadn’t protected her parents?
    She had promised Gabriel she would attend midnight mass in the city with him that night, but she knew it would be hard. It would be the first time she had attended church since the funeral. It forced Gabriel’s place in her life into the spotlight. Everything about him was sin, from his looks to the things he did to her. She had been so sure that he would be the one to send her straight to hell, with his wicked ways and subversive ideas, but he had cracked her shell wide open and let the music pour in. If she returned to the church, Gabriel had been her salvation. He was aptly named, she thought with dry amusement. The Archangel Gabriel had been both implacable and righteous.
    She struggled with her thoughts all through dinner and the film they watched afterwards, remaining in silence as the credits rolled. Gabriel watched quietly as she changed into a smart jersey dress and boots.
    “Are you okay?” He asked, as he put her beautiful damson coat around her, letting his arms linger comfortingly around her shoulders.
    “I haven’t been to church since my parents’ funeral.” She said quietly. “God and I don’t exactly see eye to eye.”
    “You should have said.” He started removing his coat. “We don’t have to go.”
    “No, I want to.” She caught his hands, pulling his coat closed again. “I’m ready. I just didn’t know until you opened my eyes.”
    “Only if you’re sure.” He met her gaze steadily and she nodded.
    “I’m sure.”
     
    As they travelled down into the city, she watched his profile in the passing lights. “Did you ever lose your faith?” She asked. “After your childhood, I mean.”
    “I couldn’t afford to.” His jaw flexed as remembered pain forced his teeth to clench. “I had to believe that there was a reason for it, that God had tested me, or I’d have gone crazy.”
    That made sense. “Tell me about your childhood.” She asked softly.
    “You can’t fix me Noelle.” He glanced across at her and she sighed.
    “I’m not trying to fix you. I’m trying to understand you.” She toyed with a button on her coat. “I don’t understand how your faith can be so unwavering while your soul can be so damaged.”
    “It was the music.” He said after a short pause. “The power of gospel to a damaged child is something that can never be put into words. When I left home, it was the church that gave me a way out.”
    “You sang with a choir?” She asked and he nodded.
    “It was transformative. At home I was an island under siege. At choir I was part of something greater, a union that was more than the sum of its parts. The church funded me through music school, gave me my career.”
    “I bet it hurt when the church denounced your music.” She probed gently and he shrugged.
    “I talked about it with my pastor. He understood my reasons and knew that it was part of my healing.” He reached across and squeezed her hand. “The only church that matters to me is fully behind me.”
    “Is that where we’re going tonight?” She hadn’t known it was such a huge part of