She returns to her laptop, fingers dancing across the keys as she scrolls, absorbed in her own world. Julian reluctantly looks away, though every fiber of him aches to continue watching. He moves toward the back of the library, navigating the shelves, each step deliberate.
Even as he searches, he fights the urge to glance sideways. But when he does, he catches her again—her face focused, serious, bathed in the soft glow of the laptop screen. The moment stabs at him with quiet intensity, and he forces his attention back to the spines of the books.
At last, he finds the one he came for. Holding it carefully in his hands, he begins the slow walk back to the front of the library. Each step is measured, a battle between duty and desire. As he passes her, his eyes flicker to her again. Her presence resonates deep in his chest, a quiet ache that refuses to be ignored.
He steadies his voice, gentle but betraying a faint tremor he hadn't expected.
"Here… I'll lend this book. And could you also save copies here in this library, so my students from my course can borrow them?"
Even as he speaks, Julian feels the subtle gravity of her presence, the pull of proximity making every word feel heavier, every breath slower.
"Yes, sure, Professor Lenter. Anything else you need help with?" the librarian asks, glancing up from the computer.
"I'm all good. Thank you," Julian replies, voice calm but his mind elsewhere.
With that, he glances back at Grace one final time, committing the image to memory, before slowly walking out of the library and onto the campus.
Outside, the spring air wraps around him, carrying the soft scent of blooming flowers and fresh greenery. He stops in front of the library building, taking in the scene—the gentle sway of trees, the sunlight catching on new leaves, the faint warmth of the morning brushing against the cool air.
I wanted to say hello… to go to her, maybe even truly show my heart, like Eugene said… Julian thinks, a twinge of regret tightening in his chest. And yet… I didn't even say hello.
A faint, bittersweet smile curls at his lips, soft and fleeting, carrying both longing and restraint.
In the library, Grace pretends to study the laptop screen, but her attention is elsewhere. Her gaze drifts to the shelves in front of her, replaying the moment from just minutes ago.
He looked at me so intently… and all I could do was say hello, she thinks, a flutter of warmth rising in her chest. She places her hands lightly over her heart, feeling it pound faster than usual. Why is my heart beating so fast…?
Impulsively, she closes the laptop, tucks it into her backpack, and strides quickly toward the exit. Outside, the campus stretches out before her. She glances right and left, scanning the paths. Students pass by, their chatter mingling with the soft rustle of leaves—but Julian Lenter is nowhere in sight.
Of course… he's gone, she thinks, a pinch of bitterness mingling with the lingering thrill in her chest.
"Perhaps… were you someone important to me, Professor Lenter?" she murmurs into the quiet air, voice almost swallowed by the breeze. Her eyes lift toward the sky, seeking some unspoken answer. "If he's someone special, and that's why my heart races when I look at him… then…"
Her words trail off, but a faint, knowing smile curls her lips.
Grace steps further into the spring campus, feeling the cool air brush against her skin and the soft wind teasing her hair. The warmth in her chest and the freshness of the morning mingle, carrying a quiet, delicate hope that lingers long after he has gone.
Night settles softly over the house. Grace lounges on the sofa, eyes half-focused on the flickering TV, when her mother walks in, the gentle creak of the floor announcing her presence.
"Grace, honey," her mom calls softly.
Grace lifts her gaze, blinking at the sight of her mother.
"I got the court result finally," Monica says, a bright smile spreading across her face. "The frauds—they'll have to return the money they stole. Everything's ended now. It's all done. All thanks to God."
Grace's eyes widen, and she springs up from the sofa, the weight of months of tension lifting in an instant. Even without her memories of the pain her family endured, she knows enough of what happened to feel the magnitude of relief.
"Thank you, Lord!!!" she shouts, her voice echoing with pure joy, hands raised to the ceiling.
Monica watches her daughter, pride and relief mingling in her gaze.
"Grace, you said you want to go back to school this summer, right?"
"Yes. Why?"
Her mom steps closer, still smiling. "I'm so glad to hear that. And… I think you haven't really taken a proper rest here at L Bingo. So how about a trip?"
Grace blinks, then her face lights up into a huge grin. "A trip?"
"Yes. A trip," her mom confirms, warmth in her tone.
Grace closes her eyes for a moment, feeling the gratitude swell in her chest.
Right. We got all that money back. Everything is finally settled. God… thank You.
She thinks of her family and the hardships they endured—the false loans, the stolen savings—and feels a deep, quiet reverence for this moment of peace.
Her mother tilts her head, smiling gently.
"So where do you want to go?"
"Well…"
Where do I want to go? Grace thinks, biting her lip. I'll think about it and tell Mom later.
"Okay," her mother replies with a warm smile, turning back toward her room.
I hope this trip helps her forget everything for a while, relieves her stress, and lets her restore herself faster, Monica thinks as she enters the master bedroom.
Left alone in the living room, Grace reopens her laptop on the sofa. The soft hum of the machine fills the quiet room as she begins searching.
Where should I go… she murmurs, letting her mind wander.
Her fingers type almost unconsciously, and she finds herself searching for Mellany, a city on the opposite side of the globe.
The screen blossoms with maps, scenic landscapes, and vibrant street views. Grace scrolls through them, drinking in the beauty of the city. Her eyes linger on the streets, the buildings, the way sunlight dances off the water in one particular panorama.
She freezes, fingers suspended over the trackpad.
"Wait… why did I search for Mellany? Where did this come from?" she murmurs, brow furrowing.
A strange sensation stirs at the edge of her mind, teasing the surface of memory, but slipping away before it can form.
Scrolling further, she stops at a particular street, an image that halts her entirely. She zooms in, inspecting the details carefully, her breath catching ever so slightly.
Why does this street feel so familiar…? she thinks, the hairs on her arms prickling. It's like I've seen it in a dream…
"Dream…?" she whispers aloud, almost afraid to say it. "Have I… dreamt of being here…?"
The thought hangs in the air, fragile and tantalizing, as if the city itself is tugging at a memory just beyond her reach.
Early in the morning, Julian runs along the winding paths of the lake park. His breath comes in heavy, measured gasps, chest rising and falling with each determined stride. Despite the burn in his legs and the rhythm of exertion, he keeps moving, letting the motion clear his mind.
Finally, he slows, coming to a stop at the edge of the water. The lake stretches before him, glassy and calm, reflecting the soft gold of the rising sun. Julian inhales deeply, the crisp morning air filling his lungs.
"The world… it's beautiful, as always," he murmurs, voice low, almost reverent. "And it's all made by the Creator, my Lord. He moves the world so perfectly, so… beautifully, at all times."
His gaze drifts downward, and his thoughts find her—Grace.
He sees the memory again, sharp and vivid, from yesterday at the library. Barely anyone was there, just the quiet presence of the librarian, him, and her. Julian's eyes drank her in, committing every detail to memory—the round, expressive eyes, the glossy lips, the plump cheeks, the delicate curve of her frame. His heart had raced, yet he hadn't looked away, rooted in the quiet pull of recognition that tugged at his chest.
"She's back at school," he murmurs, his voice barely louder than the morning breeze. His gaze drifts to the ground, a flicker of resolve settling over him. "That means I need to find her and approach her again. This time. I'm not running away."
The sun rises higher, spilling warmth across the park. Julian inhales once more, letting the light fill him with quiet courage, the gentle lapping of the lake a steady companion to his determination.
That afternoon, Grace sits at the living room table, laptop open in front of her, phone pressed to her ear as she talks to her mom, who is at work in her professor's office.
"Mom, I checked the tickets… the cheapest one is tomorrow," Grace says, eyes darting across the screen. "For Mellany."