Rocky Road 7, FOTD: Absolution
Title: Absolution
Main Story: In The Heart
Flavors, Toppings and Extras: FOTD (weal: a raised mark on the surface of the body produced by a blow), rocky road 7 (holy place), malt (PFAH: Gina : When in doubt, say, 'I didn't do it!'), chopped nuts.
Word Count: 917
Rating: PG.
Summary: Her life with Grant was patterned on her skin. But not her soul.
Notes: Have some more Father Arnott, because I love him. Same AU as somewhere far away.
Her life with Grant was patterned on her skin.
Gina sat in a pew and stared at her hands. Her left pinky was a little crooked now; she'd broken it the year before, when Grant pushed her and she fell badly. There was a bruise on her upper arm, another shadowing her ribs, a healing one on her shoulder. She'd told herself that he didn't know his own strength.
She knew now that wasn't true.
It wasn't all bad. She bore other, better marks as well. Two short scars on her abdomen from Caesarian sections, stretch marks on her breasts and belly from her pregnancies. A paler band of skin where her wedding ring once sat, in happier times. A scar on her foot, from stepping on a shell during their all-too-brief honeymoon. He'd carried her to hospital, and she'd been laughing even though it hurt.
She wasn't laughing now. But it had been good, once upon a time. She wouldn't be so certain of herself if it hadn't once been good.
The last person left the confessional, and Gina rose, slipped into the penitent's side, and knelt. It was a heavy, old-fashioned confessional, one where in theory neither priest nor penitent knew the identity of the other; in practice, of course, Gina had been confessing to Father Arnott here since childhood. One got to know voices.
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," she said. "It has been one week since my last confession." What a week it had been.
"Go ahead, my child." Father Arnott's soothing tenor. Gina closed her eyes, crossed herself, and leaned her forehead against the grille.
"In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit," she began. "I have left my husband, and I have every intention of getting a divorce."
There was silence from the other side, then Father Arnott said, "I see. Are you sorry for this?"
Gina considered that for a moment, even though she already knew the answer. "I am sorry for the necessity," she said, at last. "But I am not sorry for the act."
"Lack of contrition is not a good sign, my child," Father Arnott said, dryly.
"I'm doing it to protect my children," Gina said, her voice hardening. "I'm not sorry for that. I'd rather endanger my soul than force them to stay in that situation."
She was fairly certain that Father Arnott already knew why, since it was a fairly small congregation that included her parents, but he asked anyway. "Why is that?"
Gina exhaled, and thought of the bruise on Robbie's arm and the way her daughters disappeared to their rooms as soon their father came home. "My husband is abusive. He hit me, he frightened my children, and he hurt my son. I will not stay with him. I will not let them stay with him."
"Ah." Father Arnott let out a breath. "My child, do you truly believe there is no other way to resolve this situation? Forgive me," he added, "but I must ask."
Only long affection for Father Arnott prevented Gina from shouting at him. As it was, she spoke from between her teeth. "I tried to save my marriage, Father. When it was only me, I thought maybe... I thought he was making mistakes. He apologized every time. I thought he'd stop. I thought I could help him, change him back to what he used to be. But then he hurt my son, Father. I cannot tolerate that. I won't."
"Well, then. The Church permits the separation of couples when living together becomes impossible. I would say that your husband has done so."
Gina blinked. "...oh. Really? I... my mother said it was a sin."
Father Arnott was smiling-- she could hear it in his voice. "Your husband made life dangerous for you and your children. Leaving him is no sin. You say that you plan to seek a civil divorce for the protection of your children; that would also be no sin. Now, if you marry another, that is a sin, and you would be unable to receive the sacraments as long as you remained in that situation."
Heh. She didn't plan to get anywhere near men for a very long time. "That will not be a problem, Father."
"Then you need perform no penance for it," Father Arnott said. "Have you any other sins to confess?"
She did-- lying, taking the Lord's name in vain repeatedly, breaking the fourth commandment when her mother had told her that leaving her husband was a sin. Common sins, easily confessed, easily forgiven. Gina accepted her penance and absolution, and was about to leave the confessional when Father Arnott said, "A moment, my child?"
She knelt again. "Yes, Father?"
"I want you to understand that you are safe here," he said. "You and your children both. If you need help, you can come here at any time and I will see to it that you are safe."
"Thank you," Gina said, touched. "I'm getting a restraining order, and my parents have taken us in, so we're all right for now. But... thank you. I won't forget that."
"Good," Father Arnott said. "Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good."
"For His mercy endures forever," Gina answered, and crossed herself.
Marks on her body, she thought, as she rose and left the confessional. Scars and bruises and tan lines. Her life with Grant was written on her skin.
But not her soul.
Main Story: In The Heart
Flavors, Toppings and Extras: FOTD (weal: a raised mark on the surface of the body produced by a blow), rocky road 7 (holy place), malt (PFAH: Gina : When in doubt, say, 'I didn't do it!'), chopped nuts.
Word Count: 917
Rating: PG.
Summary: Her life with Grant was patterned on her skin. But not her soul.
Notes: Have some more Father Arnott, because I love him. Same AU as somewhere far away.
Her life with Grant was patterned on her skin.
Gina sat in a pew and stared at her hands. Her left pinky was a little crooked now; she'd broken it the year before, when Grant pushed her and she fell badly. There was a bruise on her upper arm, another shadowing her ribs, a healing one on her shoulder. She'd told herself that he didn't know his own strength.
She knew now that wasn't true.
It wasn't all bad. She bore other, better marks as well. Two short scars on her abdomen from Caesarian sections, stretch marks on her breasts and belly from her pregnancies. A paler band of skin where her wedding ring once sat, in happier times. A scar on her foot, from stepping on a shell during their all-too-brief honeymoon. He'd carried her to hospital, and she'd been laughing even though it hurt.
She wasn't laughing now. But it had been good, once upon a time. She wouldn't be so certain of herself if it hadn't once been good.
The last person left the confessional, and Gina rose, slipped into the penitent's side, and knelt. It was a heavy, old-fashioned confessional, one where in theory neither priest nor penitent knew the identity of the other; in practice, of course, Gina had been confessing to Father Arnott here since childhood. One got to know voices.
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," she said. "It has been one week since my last confession." What a week it had been.
"Go ahead, my child." Father Arnott's soothing tenor. Gina closed her eyes, crossed herself, and leaned her forehead against the grille.
"In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit," she began. "I have left my husband, and I have every intention of getting a divorce."
There was silence from the other side, then Father Arnott said, "I see. Are you sorry for this?"
Gina considered that for a moment, even though she already knew the answer. "I am sorry for the necessity," she said, at last. "But I am not sorry for the act."
"Lack of contrition is not a good sign, my child," Father Arnott said, dryly.
"I'm doing it to protect my children," Gina said, her voice hardening. "I'm not sorry for that. I'd rather endanger my soul than force them to stay in that situation."
She was fairly certain that Father Arnott already knew why, since it was a fairly small congregation that included her parents, but he asked anyway. "Why is that?"
Gina exhaled, and thought of the bruise on Robbie's arm and the way her daughters disappeared to their rooms as soon their father came home. "My husband is abusive. He hit me, he frightened my children, and he hurt my son. I will not stay with him. I will not let them stay with him."
"Ah." Father Arnott let out a breath. "My child, do you truly believe there is no other way to resolve this situation? Forgive me," he added, "but I must ask."
Only long affection for Father Arnott prevented Gina from shouting at him. As it was, she spoke from between her teeth. "I tried to save my marriage, Father. When it was only me, I thought maybe... I thought he was making mistakes. He apologized every time. I thought he'd stop. I thought I could help him, change him back to what he used to be. But then he hurt my son, Father. I cannot tolerate that. I won't."
"Well, then. The Church permits the separation of couples when living together becomes impossible. I would say that your husband has done so."
Gina blinked. "...oh. Really? I... my mother said it was a sin."
Father Arnott was smiling-- she could hear it in his voice. "Your husband made life dangerous for you and your children. Leaving him is no sin. You say that you plan to seek a civil divorce for the protection of your children; that would also be no sin. Now, if you marry another, that is a sin, and you would be unable to receive the sacraments as long as you remained in that situation."
Heh. She didn't plan to get anywhere near men for a very long time. "That will not be a problem, Father."
"Then you need perform no penance for it," Father Arnott said. "Have you any other sins to confess?"
She did-- lying, taking the Lord's name in vain repeatedly, breaking the fourth commandment when her mother had told her that leaving her husband was a sin. Common sins, easily confessed, easily forgiven. Gina accepted her penance and absolution, and was about to leave the confessional when Father Arnott said, "A moment, my child?"
She knelt again. "Yes, Father?"
"I want you to understand that you are safe here," he said. "You and your children both. If you need help, you can come here at any time and I will see to it that you are safe."
"Thank you," Gina said, touched. "I'm getting a restraining order, and my parents have taken us in, so we're all right for now. But... thank you. I won't forget that."
"Good," Father Arnott said. "Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good."
"For His mercy endures forever," Gina answered, and crossed herself.
Marks on her body, she thought, as she rose and left the confessional. Scars and bruises and tan lines. Her life with Grant was written on her skin.
But not her soul.