Peter showed up unannounced.
He found her under the tree — her hoodie up, legs crossed, phone in hand but not scrolling. Just staring.
He smiled softly, trying to lighten the air.
> "Hey… heard rehearsal went well. I came to—"
> "Sit," she said, without looking at him.
Peter paused. Sat.
The silence grew heavy.
Angela finally looked up. Her eyes were calm. But distant.
> "Do you know Oluchi?"
Peter blinked.
> "Oluchi?"
> "She sent me messages. Screenshots. About you. And her. And your prayers."
He didn't speak.
She waited.
> "Say something, Peter."
He ran a hand over his face. His shoulders slumped — not in guilt, but weariness.
> "It wasn't what it looked like."
> "Then tell me what it was. Now."
L
His voice dropped.
> "I used to call her to pray. We were both spiritual. Passionate. And yes, sometimes the lines blurred. I said things I shouldn't have. Things that were... suggestive."
Angela looked away.
> "Why did you never tell me?"
> "Because I was ashamed. And because I didn't think it mattered anymore."
> "But it does now."
Peter exhaled.
> "Angela, I didn't touch her. I never crossed that physical line. But emotionally? Spiritually? I was reckless. I used the name of prayer to satisfy a part of me that should've been crucified."
> "So you were leading worship and leading women into confusion."
That hit.
Even he flinched.
> "I wasn't trying to manipulate her. I didn't even realize what I was doing until she cut me off. I repented. I've grown. I've fought to be better."
Angela was quiet for a moment, then asked the question he feared:
> "Would you do it again?"
He looked up, eyes glassy.
> "No. Because now I know what it feels like to truly love someone... and fear losing her to the truth."
Angela stared at him.
> "I'm not leaving you because you sinned, Peter. I'm leaving if you can't carry this weight honestly."
> "Can you handle being my partner and my priest? Not the man who prays in tongues at night and flirts with flesh by dawn. Can you be whole?"
He swallowed hard. Then nodded.
> "I want to be. And I want to start with telling you everything. Not just what you find out."
---
She looked at him for a long time.
And then she reached into her hoodie, pulled out her phone, and deleted Oluchi's message.
> "You get one chance to rebuild. No lies. No emotional cheating. No blurred 'prayers.' Just you, me, and truth."
Peter whispered:
> "You, me, and grace."
She smirked.
> "Don't push it."