It started with sirens.
Three of them.
The campus group chat exploded before the university could release a statement.
"Mass Comm student collapsed in hostel."
"She hit her head. Bleeding. No ambulance yet."
"Final year. Someone said she's in Tamara's room."
"Who knows Tamara's best friend again?"
"Angela."
Angela was in the library when her phone buzzed nonstop.
She read the first message.
Dropped her pen.
Left everything behind.
She ran barefoot from Block A to the hostel.
The hallway was chaos. Girls screaming. One crying. Some praying.
Then she saw her.
Tamara.
Eyes closed. Blood on the side of her face. Chest rising, barely.
Angela's knees buckled.
---
The ambulance came 15 minutes later.
Angela sat beside Tamara, holding her hand the whole way.
Praying. Crying. Whispering things she couldn't remember five minutes later.
At the hospital, they said:
"She'll be fine. But she needs full rest and monitoring."
Angela nodded like she heard it.
But inside, she was falling apart.
And as she sat alone in the waiting area…
She picked up her phone and did the one thing she swore she wouldn't do.
She called Peter.
He picked on the first ring.
"Come," was all she said.
And he did.
---
He arrived with two sachets of water, a hoodie, and his Bible in hand.
He didn't speak.
He just opened his arms.
And Angela folded into him.
She cried. She wept. She shook.
He didn't kiss her.
He didn't stroke her thigh.
He just held her like he'd been waiting to.
Like God had paused time for this very moment.
---
Hours passed.
Tamara stabilized.
Angela rested her head on Peter's lap as he read softly from Psalms 46.
"God is our refuge and strength…
a very present help in trouble."
She whispered, "I'm tired of fighting you."
Peter looked down at her. "Then don't fight. Let's just be."
Angela sat up. "You don't understand. I've prayed. Fasted. Given it to God. Taken it back. Given it again. I love Him. But I want you too."
Peter took her hand. "Maybe… loving me is not your sin.
Maybe it's how we've handled it."
Angela exhaled.
"But what if this love ruins us both?"
Peter leaned forward.
"Then let it ruin us beautifully."
And just like that…
They kissed.
But this time?
It didn't feel like sin.
It felt like honesty.
Like two broken believers finally being real about what they feel.
Not lust.
Not heat.
Just raw, exhausted love.
---
Angela didn't sleep with him that night.
She slept in the hospital room beside Tamara.
Peter sat on the chair, holding her hand under the white light of reality.