Angela couldn't sleep.
Tamara was recovering slowly, but Angela's mind wasn't.
That kiss still lingered on her lips — not because it was sinful, but because it felt like peace wrapped in skin.
But that confused her more.
Was it possible for love to feel so right and still carry the risk of making you fall again?
She needed clarity.
Not emotions.
Not Peter's voice.
Not another "I miss you" text.
She needed a sign.
---
So she went to her mentor.
Sister Peace wasn't young or overly religious.
She had loved, lost, and loved again — a woman with eyes that could see past makeup and spirit that could slice through lies.
Angela poured her heart out — from the innocent beginning to the wild nights, the guilt, the distance, the kiss at the hospital.
Sister Peace didn't interrupt once.
When Angela finished, her voice was trembling.
"I love him. But I don't know if God is smiling… or sighing."
Sister Peace leaned forward, voice soft but stern.
"Angela, love doesn't always equal alignment.
Some things feel good because they reflect our desire — not His will."
Angela's eyes welled up.
"But what if I leave him… and never feel that way again?"
> "Then you'll learn that not everything we lose is punishment.
Sometimes, it's preservation."
Silence.
"Do you want to marry him?" Sister Peace asked.
Angela hesitated. "I don't know."
"Then stop kissing someone you can't pray about."
Boom.
---
Meanwhile, Peter had started attending therapy sessions on campus.
Not for Angela.
For himself.
The first question the therapist asked?
"If Angela disappeared tomorrow, would you still want to be better?"
Peter blinked.
And for the first time, he didn't know the answer.
---
Back at her hostel, Angela did something bold.
She dropped her phone.
Got on her knees.
And prayed the most honest prayer she'd ever whispered:
> "God, if Peter is not Your plan for me,
take the desire away.
Break my heart if You must.
But please, don't let me fake peace."
She slept after crying.
And dreamed of Peter…
But this time, in her dream —
he walked away.
She woke up.
Peaceful.
But shaken.