Chapter 24: The War Within

That night, Richard lay awake staring at the ceiling, the fan humming softly above him. Sleep refused to come. Every time he closed his eyes, it wasn’t scriptures or sermons he saw_ it was Susan. Her smile. The warmth in her eyes. The sound of her voice calling his name.

He turned on his side, restless. His mind betrayed him, drifting to thoughts he shouldn’t be thinking. He saw himself with her, hand in hand, laughing, sharing quiet moments that didn’t belong to him. He tried to shake it off, but the images kept returning, softer, sweeter, and more dangerous.

Then came the memory he dreaded most...the day she kissed him. It rushed back like a wave. The way her lips had felt, the brief shock that followed, and the taste that lingered long after.

It played in his mind with startling clarity. He sat up abruptly, breathing heavily, gripping his sheets as if they could hold his thoughts still.

“Lord, what’s happening to me?” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Why can’t I stop thinking about her?”

He got out of bed and knelt to pray, but the more he prayed, the worse it got. Each word of prayer felt like it melted into longing. He battled himself, one side fighting to stay pure, the other quietly craving more.

“God, please,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair. “Help me keep my heart clean.”

Across town, Susan was living in a different world. Salvation had brought her a strange calm, a peace she hadn’t known in years. Her mother noticed the change too, the gentleness in her tone, the softness in her eyes.

Susan decided it was time to start over. She didn’t want to return to her old life, so she began thinking of what else she could do. That’s when she remembered the tailoring skills she had once ignored.

Back then, her mother had forced her into it, but she’d ended up being good with the sewing machine, neat stitches, quick hands, a natural flair for style. So, she took from the money she had saved and bought a sewing machine from a neighbor.

“I’ll start from home,” she told her mother. “One dress at a time.” Her mother smiled proudly. “That’s my girl.”

At night, Susan worked on her first piece, a simple gown. But later, when she lay down to rest, the dreams returned. They weren’t confusing anymore. They were vivid, she was standing in a white dress again, the same man by her side, holding her hand.

Only this time, she saw something new... a scar on his left palm.

She woke up with a start, her heart racing. “A scar…” she whispered to herself, trying to make sense of it. It felt real, too real to ignore.

Somewhere across the city, Richard sat in his car outside his house the next morning, still lost in thought. He ran his fingers over his left palm, tracing the faint scar he’d gotten years ago during a church construction project.

And for the first time, he felt a chill run down his spine.