I Have a Dream that has You In It

Her face brightens, a small spark of delight in her expression.

Julian shrugs with a small, self-assured smile, leaning back slightly. 

They make their way to the seats, the quiet murmur of other theatergoers fading as they approach the front. The closer they get, the more Julian notices the little details—how the air seems denser up here, how every sound feels amplified, how the flickering stage lights add a touch of magic to everything.

Grace slides into the seat first, her movements fluid and practiced, like she's done this a thousand times before. Her body moves with an effortless grace, the kind of natural poise that Julian can't help but notice. She gently peels off her denim jacket and drapes it over the back of the chair, revealing a simple white short-sleeved t-shirt underneath. The soft cotton fits her perfectly, hugging her frame just enough without clinging tightly or too loosely.

Julian follows her lead, sliding into the seat beside her with a casual ease, his movements not nearly as practiced, but somehow fitting for the moment. He makes sure to sit close, but not too close, a silent respect for the space between them.

For a moment, there's a slight, accidental brush of their arms. Julian can feel the subtle warmth of her skin, the brief contact making him pause, but only for a fraction of a second. He lets his arm stay relaxed at his side, not wanting to make anything more of it. But Grace, as if on instinct, pulls her arm closer to her body, making a small adjustment.

He catches the movement, his eyes flicking over to her. She's tense, her body language subtle but telling. The air between them feels charged, a little quieter now. Julian notices the way she's carefully controlling the space around her, something protective in her posture.

Her eyes flicker toward him, almost as if she's aware of the tension that's built up between them, and she gives him a small, slightly uneasy smile.

As the play is about to begin, a male actor walks onto the stage with an easy smile stretched across his face. Turning to the audience, he speaks warmly.

"Thank you all for coming to see our play this afternoon. We're grateful you chose to spend your precious Saturday lunch with us. Please enjoy the performance. There will be a ten-minute intermission after the first part, so we kindly ask you to be back in your seats by then."

With that, the lights dim, drawing a hush from the crowd.

A single spotlight brightens the stage, revealing a cozy bedroom set. An actor steps into view, ruffling his hair and mimicking the groggy motions of waking up. The scene unfolds—the start of an ordinary day. He moves about, looking for jobs, navigating small disappointments, and soon encounters an eccentric neighbor: a man in his fifties with an oddly charming presence. The comedy begins to take shape, and gentle laughter bubbles from the audience at various moments.

Grace chuckles quietly at a clever line, and Julian, sitting beside her, steals a glance in her direction.

Her laugh is soft, genuine—completely unguarded. A smile forms on his lips without him realizing. Something about that sound, that expression… it stirs something deep within him. Watching her smile like that, he sees someone else there too.

Hannah. How did I miss it all this time? That Grace's smile… is exactly like hers.

Julian lowers his gaze slightly and grins to himself.

No… that's not true. I knew. I knew it from the beginning. I just couldn't admit it.

Their arms touch lightly between them. Unlike before, Grace doesn't shy away. She doesn't shift or pull back. It feels… natural. Easy.

She's comfortable now. That's good, he thinks, his grin widening as he turns his attention back to the stage.

But Julian has no idea—Grace has noticed his gaze. She's felt it the entire time. The soft weight of his eyes on her makes her heart pound against her chest. She pretends to focus on the performance, but it's nearly impossible to ignore the quiet intensity beside her.

As Julian looks back to the stage, Grace finally lets out a tiny sigh of relief.

Is there something on my face? The thought pops into her head unbidden. Did I get chocolate on my cheek or something?

She discreetly pulls out her phone and uses the screen as a mirror. A quick glance confirms—thankfully, her face is clean. She exhales softly and slips the phone back into her purse, turning her attention to the play once again.

Eventually, the lights rise throughout the theater, signaling the ten-minute intermission. The audience begins to stir, some rising and stretching, others making their way toward the restrooms.

"Do you need to go to the restroom?" Julian asks.

"No, I'm all right. You?"

"Yup." 

He stands to leave.

She watches as he walks away, disappearing out into the corridor. Her eyes linger.

His tall frame, his broad shoulders… even the way he walks—it all draws her in.

He really does have such good posture, she thinks. Even from the back, he looks… cool.

Realizing she's been staring a little too long, Grace gives a small shake of her head and lowers her gaze. The stage is empty now, the set temporarily removed during the break. She closes her eyes for a moment, letting the warmth and peace of the moment settle in.

Silently, she prays.

She thanks God—for the afternoon, for this moment, for him. The thought that she's here, sitting beside him on a date, makes her heart ache with gratitude. Considering all she's been through just to get to this point, she realizes how precious this simple moment truly is.

When Julian returns, he carries two drinks—an iced coffee for himself and a lemonade for her.

Is she asleep? he wonders as he sees her with eyes closed, still and peaceful.

Quietly, he takes his seat beside her, careful not to disturb the quiet that has settled between them.

Grace opens her eyes just as Julian quietly slips back into his seat beside her. He holds out a cold cup toward her.

"Here," he says softly.

She blinks in surprise, caught off guard. She hadn't expected him to bring anything back—let alone something for her. Truthfully, she was a little thirsty, but she hadn't said a word.

"Oh… thanks," she says, accepting the lemonade with both hands. "I didn't know you went to the snack bar."

Julian shrugs, a faint smile playing on his lips. 

"Just thought you might want something."

There's a moment of comfortable silence before he tilts his head, studying her expression.

"You like the play so far?"

"Yeah. It's a pretty good comedy, I guess. I've watched a lot of plays in the past, and this one's definitely on the good side."

For a moment, despite the people bustling around them, the chatter, the sound of drinks being sipped and feet shuffling—the world narrows.

It's just them.

Just Grace and him.

And God in the middle of it all, gently weaving their threads together.

That's when the actor returns to the stage.

"Thank you, everyone. We'll now begin the second half of the play. Please enjoy the rest of the show."

The lights dim once more. The murmurs fade. The set reappears as the stage brightens, and just like that, the story continues.

But in the quiet shared between them, Julian and Grace settle back in their seats. Neither of them speaks, but both are aware of the closeness—the subtle electricity humming between their arms, the peaceful rhythm of two hearts beating side by side.

It's not just comedy on the stage now.

There's something tender in the air, something unfolding slowly—between laughter, between glances, between two souls drawn together in the warm, sacred stillness of the moment.

A steady, joyful, peaceful drumming beat.

"Well… now that I feel like we're a little closer," Grace says, lifting her glass and taking a small sip of water, "I have something to tell you."

The words hang in the air like the quiet before a storm.

They're sitting at a cozy Thai restaurant just a short walk from the theater. The table between them is still empty, the plates and chopsticks neatly arranged, waiting. They've ordered pad thai, spicy noodle soup, and yellow curry—but the food has yet to arrive.

Julian glances at her, picking up on the shift in her tone. Something about the way she speaks, the way her fingers trace the rim of her glass, tells him this isn't just small talk.

"What is it?" he asks carefully, sitting up a little straighter.

Grace sets the water glass down gently and meets his gaze. 

"I've been having this dream," she begins. "And it has you in it."

Julian freezes—just for a fraction of a second—but it's enough to make his heart skip a beat. 

But Grace grins, adding lightly, "Well… not exactly you. But someone who looks just like you."

He exhales quietly, schooling his expression into something casual. 

"What kind of dream is it?" he asks, though his heart is pounding behind his ribs.

He already knows the answer.

The letter.

That letter she wrote, the one she never knew he read—because she didn't know he was the secret donor who received it. In it, she had shared her dream: her past life as Hannah, and the mysterious man June who looked just like him.