40 | Change Of Heart

**SIENNA**

*A week later*

Did I say that I miss the *good old* days at Mount Carmel? 
I regretted my words heavily as I recalled how I had pestered Gabriel over the past week since my return to let me attend the classes. 
He then took me to visit an army of doctors multiple times to double-check if I was fit enough to attend the classes by sitting for long hours and finally agreed on it. But there were still a few lingering conditions that could tax my health was prohibited. 
However, I realised that I still hated the Morning Mass. It made me feel extremely sleepy and bored me to death.
The only delight was probably staring at *him*.
The way his fingers gripped the podium reminded me of his hold when he had kissed me. The imprint of his firm touch might have been erased, but I could still feel the tremor in my bones. 
“To err is human,” he sermoned as he began his homily in a passionate voice. “And that is why we confess our sins to God through prayer and beg for His mercy. And our Lord is merciful. But question yourself: how is confessing is secret any good to us? We are humans, and we get easily tempted. The forbidden fruit is sweeter, and the grass is always greener on the other side.” 
I yawned without even bothering to cover my mouth as Tara scooted closer and whispered, “Good morning and welcome back.”
“Ugh,” I groaned. “There’s nothing good about a morning when I have to sit through this boring thing.” 
“Didn’t you get used to it now? I mean, everyone does. At some point, you just have to give in,” she reasoned. 
“Yeah, no. This sucks.”
She had a point. But today was not one of those mornings when I needed wisdom. I needed sleep, or coffee, or maybe both.  
Or an earth-shattering, soul-crushing kiss from a forbidden priest. Ah! A girl can only dream silly. 
Telepathically, Gabriel paused for a brief second as his censored gaze darted where I perched and then resumed to his reading. 
“We have seen the examples of Simon that one can confess his or her sins to a fellow Christian. In that case, the sin is whispered among two brethren but not the one who truly needed to see the repentance.”  
“You can use your injury card to tap out,” Tara suggested with a hidden smirk.
“Then I will be put to isolation once again. No, thank you. I’d rather snore.” I rolled my eyes and pretended to listen with enthusiasm.  
“Where were you, by the way?” Tara asked out of the blue. 
“Er. The sick room.” Technically, I was sick, and it was a room. Two plus two. 
Gabriel continued with his sermon as we shifted to sit straighter. “There were old times when sins were confessed before the congregation. In fact, Jesus has spoken about this in the sermon on the Mount. Matthew Chapter Four reads that: therefore if you are presenting your offering at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offering there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and present your offering.”
“But, what is the true meaning of contrition when we can’t make things right? If we have sinned against someone, it is our moral, social and religious responsibility to make it right with the very person against whom we have sinned.” 
“Do we have that in school?” Olivia whispered harshly.  
“What?”
“The sick room.” 
“If you try and fall down the stairs, Olivia, you might be as lucky as me and experience the sick room hospitality. Now, eyes front before someone catches us whispering,” I warned.  
“Wuss.”
“I can use my injury card, remember? It’s your ass that would be on the line,” I quipped with a wink.
When I shifted my eyes in front, Gabriel’s discreet glare shot at me. No one probably would have noticed, but I have seen this man long enough to know what ‘that look’ meant. It was for me—and it was *not good*.
Nevertheless, he continued in a smooth voice. “I had decided to speak on a different subject for this Morning Mass, but someone amongst you all came up to me for a special confession. I am glad she did; it shows contrition on her part. It reflects her willingness to be a better person but seeking forgiveness before God, before His children, and most importantly, before the very person against who she has sinned.” 
His eyes lifted, and instead of manoeuvring towards me, it went the other way and towards the opposite row. “Miss Porter would like to say a few words. Please, come forward,” he invited, giving her a stiff nod.
“What the everlasting rich frak is going on?” I could not help but curse inside the church, staring at the scene with wide eyes and incredulous senses. It’s like the devil atop my shoulder smirking at God inside the Holy house.
“What do you mean?” Tara asked. She found it odd too, but not as weird as I felt it. 
It was only then that I saw Eva, and she looked nothing like the girl I had known. For once, she looked…different and pale. She hesitantly rose from her seat on the pew in the first row and reluctantly dragged her feet to stand beside him.
For some strange reason, I was jealous. Gabriel was trying to communicate something to her through his silent expressions, and I was completely left out of it. 
Eva stood and faced the entire row of schoolgirls, all the wheel tucking her chin to her chest and avoided eye contact. 
For the love of God, I wanted to storm over to Gabriel and grab him by the collar to ask what was he trying to do. But my thoughts were cut short.
Instead of Gabriel, it was Eva Porter who responded in an uncanny way. 
She stood before the crowd, her feet aligned and her hands were wringing in nervousness. Her eyes met with mine, and instead of the typical narrowed look, they were glassy. 
*Hold it, was she crying? Or maybe just crocodile tears*. Eva Porter would not have a change of heart.
Okay, God’s sense of humour was just beyond my understanding. 
“I…I wanted to say something in front of all of you,” she began with a trembling voice and tossed a brief look at Gabriel. “And especially to you, Sienna.”
*Umm…what?*
I could feel the eyes of the entire congregation on me, and I don’t think I had ever been this uncomfortable in my life. The rest of the people were as clueless as I was, and I could only glare at Gabriel.
*You. Set. This. Up.*
I accused silently, but his face was set in an impeccable look of impassiveness. 
“I am truly ashamed of what I have done to you, and to think that I was responsible for your perilous health, makes me feel shameful,” Eva confessed and bit on her lips. “What I have done is appalling and unforgivable. I…I am sorry for hurting you out of spite and jealousy, and I can only beg for your forgiveness.”
So, she pushed down that day? It should not surprise me, but it still did. I opened my mouth and then shut it close, unable to form words. 
There was no way on God’s green earth Eva would admit to something like this, and if it wasn’t for Gabriel’s tutored apology, I did not know what would be! 
So, he knew it. And he never bothered to tell me in the past few days, despite lording over me like a dominant man than a reforming priest.
At that moment, I did not know if I was blown away with the whole thing or simply angry with Gabriel or confused with Eva the-certified-bitch Porter. 
Someone nudged me with the elbow, and I saw it was Tara. “They are all looking at you!” She whispered harshly, and because the church had pin-drop silence, I was pretty sure that someone heard it too. 
“Er…Umm…” I looked at Gabriel expectedly, hoping he would at least guide me through, but the asshole simply arched a brow.
*Gabriel Sullivan: I am going to kill you*.
Gulping, I stood up, grabbing the wooden pew and somehow balanced myself. Eva was still rooted to her spot — embarrassed, crying and trembling. 
“I…It’s okay. I forgive you?” I did not know why did I even frame it as a question, but it just came out like that. 
Gabriel shot me a quick glare, and I sighed. “Yeah, I forgive you, Eva.” 
Whatever happened next was a *blur*. 
Gabriel went ahead and explained how Eva’s incriminating apology was good for her soul and all the other crap things the rest of the school absorbed. He went ahead and spoke on her behalf, capitulating that she would accept any form of punishment she deserved for her incriminating act. Everyone was as stunned as I was, wondering if Eva would be subjected to the infamous punishments of Mount Carmel. 
But it was the *least* of my concerns.
The Mass ended, and as soon as the crowd began to disperse, I hobbled over to Gabriel and dragged him by hand to a corner behind the altar. At that point, I did not even bother if anyone saw us.
“What the fuck was that?” I exclaimed, glaring daggers at him.
A devious smirk lifted the corner of his lips as he leaned a little closer to me and whispered in his low and heavy sinister tone, “Every little girl who curses in my church gets punished. Do you know that, Miss Emerson?”
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