gold. The house felt impossibly quiet, almost reverent, and she lingered in bed, breathing in the gentle warmth, her mind still tangled in the

wns, the river glinting like a ribbon of silver in the dawn. The town was waking up, neighbors emerging from their homes, greeting one another with easy f

the edge of her porch swing, inhaling the crisp air, and opened the notebook to a fresh page. Writing had

peace of this morning. I don't understand everything that's happening i

etting her thoughts spill freely: Ethan Cole... why does my heart race

had instinctively moved to protect a child from tripping over a stack of boxes, the brief, almost imperceptible glance he'd given her when no one e

appointments, and choices that had led her to guard herself so fiercely. Clara had long ago learned that the heart, de

h coffee and baked bread. Ethan was already there, seated at a small round table near the window, a worn leather notebook open before h

king up and smiling, the kind of sm

e him. She felt her pulse quicken but forced herself to

nts, and the oddities of small-town life. Yet, beneath the light-hearted chatter, t

a pause, his gaze steady and open. "About.

ead, curious, and

e-mistakes, regrets. I'm not proud of all my decisions, but I'm learning that faith... that trusting God's plan, ma

e admitted softly. "Sometimes, it feels like I'm walking in the dark, hoping God wil

nk that's why moments like these... these pauses... matter. We can't see the whol

onal clink of a coffee cup. Clara felt the pull again, subtle but undeniable, like an undercurrent beneat

nor and the sharp, almost predatory awareness that seemed to linger around her. She glanced at Ethan,

g them at the table. "I didn't expect to see y

her. Ethan greeted Olivia cordially but kept a subtle distan

We've managed to get a few more volun

ecessary. "That's... impressive. You've really made quit

htly. "Talking?" she

ice when someone new does something meaningful. And when there's... chemistry

te nod. Ethan's hand brushed hers briefly under the table, a

the air felt heavier. Clara found herself wrestling with the questions Olivia had s

ed her journal again, pouring her thoughts onto the page: Why does every step toward him feel like

give me clarity. Help me see truth. Help me tr

ldn't control the whispers or the uncertainties, but she

rom Ethan-not a casual note, but a carefully written, heartfelt message explaining parts of his past, his fears, and his

elief, and cautious hope. For the first time in days, she felt that maybe, ju

the water. The sky blushed with the last light of sunset, casting gold and pink reflections on the gen

now I have shadows from my past that could make things complicated. But I

rability. "I want that too," she whispered. "I want

eeded beyond the quiet understanding that passed between them. Faith, hope, and the willingness to tr

nce was already weaving their paths, step by careful s

ne in the moment, yet carrying currents of unseen challenges, lessons, and blessings