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Murphy MacManus knew a few things about his Lady.

She drank, she swore like a trooper, and she didn't believe in God. Last night his Lady had revealed herself to be an atheist. Out of God's calling, fuck, out of his reception altogether.

Murphy MacManus knew one thing for sure about himself. He was doing God's bidding. He was a Henchman for Our Lord, tending to his flock. This Henchman was fucking an atheist. Murphy blanched at his thoughts, no, not he wasn't fucking. He was in love.

He was in love with an atheist.

An atheist. He couldn't get his head round it.

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The concrete nipped at him as he sat, cupping a cigarette between his hands as he tried to light it. Squatted on her doorstep, he began to recite what he would say in his head. It hurt him, deep inside. It was a pain he couldn't put together and he wanted badly to make sense of it. How could two of the things he loved be so wildly different?

Murphy swiped at the ash falling on the curb, his thoughts boiling over as he chewed at the skin round his nails.

He had come here to break up with her. Her. The atheist. The woman, no, his Lady who had clawed her way into his heart and stayed there. The woman his last thought played on and his first thought opened like a present on Christmas morning. She brought sunshine into his life.

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Christ, he loved her. Slapping himself across the face for taking the Lord's name in vain. What was his punishment for worshipping a women who didn't believe? A non-believer? He balked at his sins.

Yet, he loved her. And he loved his God.

In the shower this morning, as the cold water flowed onto his skin, he had prayed for her. Prayed for her soul and her forgiveness. For he had come to leave her but knew he could not.

From his actions, he could change her. Change her and have her walk the path of Our Lord.

For he loved her. Loved her more than he loved himself.

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