Something a Little Less Formal
That night, back at home, Grace stands in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing her teeth. Tiny bubbles of toothpaste form at the corners of her lips, and when she catches her reflection—grinning like a child with a secret—she can't help but laugh softly through the foam. She's smiling, and she knows exactly why.
I can't deny it anymore.
Her heart feels light, almost too light to belong to the same body she's carried all her life.
God has led us to this moment. To meet—Julian and me.
The gratitude wells up inside her, unfiltered and full. It's not the fleeting kind of thankfulness that comes with good luck or chance encounters. This is something deeper. Solid. Certain.
That dream—the one where Julian was saving her right from the beginning—wasn't just a coincidence. It never was. Every thread, every strange moment of déjà vu, every soft whisper in her dreams leading up to this—it's all been part of something bigger.
We were meant to meet in God's love.
And Julian. The memory of his apology comes back to her with warmth.
He said he was sorry for making me wait, but… she pauses, thinking it through, I think that waiting was exactly what I needed too. That time—it wasn't wasted. It was preparation. For both of us. Part of God's plan.
The awe of it makes her heart beat stronger. The way her dreams had danced with pieces of reality, weaving their way into her life—it's too perfect to be random. And yet, even with that realization, a thought surfaces gently.
Though… I haven't dreamed about it much lately…
She tilts her head slightly, rinsing the foam from her mouth. The dreams seem to have faded in the noise of daily life, pausing somewhere in the middle—but strangely, she doesn't mind. It almost feels like this moment—right here, right now—is the continuation of the dream itself. Reality becoming the dream, or maybe the other way around. She's not sure. Either way, it's beautiful.
After washing her face, she steps out of the bathroom and into the living room, towel-drying her skin. Just as she sinks down into the sofa, her phone vibrates on the table. The screen glows softly in the dim light. She reaches over lazily, unlocking it with her thumb.
A new message.
Her smile returns instinctively as she taps the notification open.
Do you have any schedule this Saturday?
A quiet laugh escapes her lips. The butterflies return, a soft flutter in her stomach, light and sweet like cotton candy dissolving in the summer sun.
Is this real? she wonders. Am I seriously living this right now?
The whole thing feels like a dream that's taken shape, walking hand-in-hand with her waking life.
Without hesitation, she types
Send.
She leans her head back against the sofa, eyes drifting up to the ceiling, a full, happy sigh escaping her lungs.
This is for real. Lord, thank You. Thank You so much.
She closes her eyes for a moment, and her mind drifts backward, flipping through the pages of her past. All the guys she's ever met—all those awkward conversations, the half-hearted interests, the moments where something always felt a little… off.
But with Julian?
There's no comparison.
No one else has ever made her feel like this before. No one else has ever fit—not in that deep, soul-recognizing kind of way. And now that she thinks about it, she realizes that maybe she's never truly liked anyone before Julian.
This is different.
This feels real. Guided. Right.
Their story—it's not random. It's not rushed. From the very beginning, this has been God's hand at work, gently, perfectly leading them to this place.
Her gaze drops again to the glowing screen.
She laughs quietly to herself.
It's too formal now, isn't it?
Their relationship has shifted, and that name feels like it belongs to some other version of them, one from before everything changed.
With a soft smile playing at her lips, she clicks
How should I save his name…? Grace tilts her head, thumb hovering above the contact screen. Then she shakes her head with a faint smile. Maybe I'll decide later.
After a long run by the lake, Julian returns to his studio apartment, his black T-shirt clinging to his skin, damp with sweat. Without hesitation, he strides toward the bathroom, eager for a cold shower. As he unfastens his Apple Watch, it buzzes softly on his wrist.
A message.
It's from Grace Silver.
A slow smile tugs at the corners of his lips.
He can't help but smile again, wider this time. Always so casual. Always so honest. That's how she is. That's how she feels to him.
He places the watch gently on the bathroom counter and doesn't respond right away. First, he needs to think. Think about what to do with her on Saturday.
As the cool water pours over him, rinsing away the sweat and heat of the evening, his mind drifts—inevitably—to her. The way she talks. The way she looks at him. The way she makes everything feel… natural. More than a feeling. Something else.
By the time he steps out of the shower, he's clean but no less thoughtful. He towels off his hair, slips into a loose T-shirt and shorts, and leans back against the sofa, phone in hand.
Grace's message is still there on the screen.
His smile lingers.
What does she like to do? Movies?
Pushing his black-rimmed glasses higher up his nose, he stares at the text, thinking hard.
This is basically our first date.
A quiet laugh escapes him.
Funny. Now that I think about it, I don't really know her that well. I don't know what she likes to do on weekends. I don't know what kind of movies she likes. What music she listens to… I don't know any of that.
But the thought doesn't make him anxious—it makes him smile again.
One thing I do know—she doesn't drink coffee. Not like Hannah.
Thumbs poised, he starts typing
He stares at it for a beat… then deletes the whole thing.
No, that sounds unprepared. Shouldn't I be the one to suggest something?
But honestly, nothing specific comes to mind. His mind drifts in circles, chasing possibilities, overthinking a text that should be easy.
He chuckles softly to himself, shaking his head.
"Seriously… overthinking a text? This isn't me."
But then again… maybe it is. Maybe this is exactly him—with her.
Grace sits curled up on the living room sofa, holding her phone loosely in one hand as the gentle voice of the audio Bible fills the quiet room. Her eyes are closed, head resting against the back of the sofa, while the cool autumn breeze drifts softly through the half-open window. It's one of those moments that feels perfectly placed—like the world itself is gently exhaling around her.
Julian hasn't replied yet, but she doesn't mind.
She knows he will.
And when he does, it'll be at the right time.
That's when the soft sound of footsteps enters the room, and her mom appears, dressed in cozy homewear—sweatpants, a loose T-shirt, hair tied up comfortably. She stops in the doorway, studying her daughter with a teasing smile.
"You look extra happy today," her mom says, folding her arms with playful suspicion. "What's going on? Good news?"
Grace opens her eyes, blinking lazily at her mom, the corners of her lips curling upward.
There's something in her mom's expression—a blend of curiosity and relief. She's happy to see her daughter smiling, genuinely curious about the reason, but also quietly relieved. After all, she's seen it all lately—the chaos of the stalker, the decision to drop the class taught by Professor Julian, the confusion that swirled around all of it. For weeks, Grace had seemed tangled in a storm, but lately… she's been lighter. Brighter. But today—today—she looks joyful.
"Well…" Grace grins, unable to hold it back anymore. "Professor Julian asked me out."
Her mom's smile flares, bright and immediate.
"Wow! That's great!" she exclaims, crossing over and sitting beside her. "How did that happen, though? I thought you two weren't seeing each other anymore?"
Grace lets out a soft, giddy laugh, her heart full.
"It just… happened. God brought us back together. Honestly, I don't even know how else to explain it. It's Him. Totally Him."
"Well, that's wonderful," she says warmly. Then her smile shifts, tilting a little sideways. "But… wait—you're still calling him Professor?"
Grace laughs again, this time almost embarrassed.
"Yeah… force of habit, I guess."
Her mom squints playfully.
"But hold on—are you two actually dating? Like… boyfriend and girlfriend?"
Grace shrugs with a grin.
"I guess… yeah."
Her mom gives her a gentle nudge with her shoulder.
"Then maybe drop the Professor soon, huh?"
The term boyfriend and girlfriend makes Grace cringe a little—it just sounds odd on her tongue—but, objectively, she admits it's probably the right word for whatever this is between her and Julian.
"Well then," her mom says with a gentle smile, "I think you should maybe start calling him something a little less… formal."
"Something a little less formal?" Grace echoes.