The flight back to Toronto was quiet.
Edwin Ng sat by the window, watching the clouds drift below him like slow-moving waves. He wasn’t thinking about the cybersecurity summit, the praise from his peers, or the new opportunities opening up because of his talk. He was thinking of her.
Grace.
Her laugh had stayed with him, echoing like music in the back of his mind. Her strength—so much more radiant than before. Her words—calm, clear, rooted in God.
It had taken every ounce of discipline to keep their conversation at the garden grounded in faith and not emotion. Because inside, Edwin’s heart was on fire.
What if God was giving them another chance?
The thought terrified him.
And thrilled him.
Back in Toronto, life resumed. Aunt Josephine noticed the shift in him almost immediately.
“You’re different,” she said one evening over dinner. “Lighter. Like something inside you woke up again.”
Edwin smiled. “I saw Grace again.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? After all these years?”
He nodded. “It wasn’t planned. But maybe it was… just not by us.”
Aunt Josephine set down her cup and looked at him with her usual maternal wisdom. “If it’s from the Lord, it won’t bring confusion. But it will require courage.”
He sat with that thought long into the night.
A few days later, Edwin returned to the small prayer chapel near his office. He hadn’t been there in months. He stepped inside, lit a candle, and dropped to his knees.
This time, his prayer wasn’t about career, finances, or direction.
It was about love.
“Lord,” he whispered, “I know I walked away. I thought I had to. And maybe I did… back then. But now I ask, not for a second chance with her—only a second chance with You. If You’re giving me back this story… teach me to honor it this time. Not with fear, but with faith.”
Peace settled over him—not a clear answer, but a green light in his spirit.
It was time to stop wondering.
Time to step forward.
With trembling hands, Edwin messaged Grace later that week:
Edwin: “Hi Grace. I’ve been praying. If you’re open to it… I’d like to visit. Not to pick up where we left off. But to see where God might lead. No pressure. Just honesty. Just peace.”
He didn’t expect an immediate reply.
But it came within the hour.
Grace: “I’ve been praying too. I don’t know what this is… but I’m willing to find out. Come visit.”
His heart leapt.
The next month felt like a whirlwind.
He coordinated a week-long leave, booked a flight to the U.S., and began preparing—not just mentally, but spiritually. Every day he fasted from distraction. Spent hours journaling, reading Scripture, and asking himself the hard questions:
Was he ready to love selflessly?
Was he healed enough to build something new?
Was he truly seeking God—or just a second chance at romance?
The answers weren’t perfect. But his surrender was real.
By the time the plane touched down in California, Edwin was no longer just a man pursuing a woman. He was a man walking into whatever God had prepared—whether restoration, closure, or something entirely new.
Grace met him at the airport.
She wore a soft blue dress, her hair tied loosely, and a shy but familiar smile on her face. They hugged briefly, the moment tender and electric.
They drove in comfortable silence to a cozy café near her apartment. Over coffee and warm pastries, they caught up. This time, there was no pretending. They talked about faith, failures, fears, and the years that shaped them both.
“Sometimes I hated you for leaving,” Grace admitted quietly. “But I knew deep down, it wasn’t about me. You were trying to be faithful.”
“I hated myself too,” Edwin replied. “But now… I’m just grateful. God taught me more through the loss than I could have ever learned from comfort.”
The rest of the visit unfolded gently.
They prayed together again—for the first time in years.
They walked the beach, sat under open skies, and spoke not like desperate lovers trying to reclaim something, but like friends rediscovering a sacred connection.
One evening, Edwin pulled out the letter he had written years ago—the one he never sent. He placed it in her hands.
Grace read it slowly, tears gathering in her eyes.
When she finished, she folded it neatly and said, “Thank you… for not forgetting.”
Then, she pulled out something of her own—a small journal of prayers, where Edwin’s name appeared more times than she could count.
“I never stopped lifting you up,” she said. “Even when I let you go.”
On his last night, they sat on a bench beneath the stars—much like the one where they made their blood compact years ago.
Edwin turned to her, voice soft.
“I don’t want to rush anything. I don’t need an answer. But if you’ll allow it… I’d like to pursue your heart again—with God at the center, and no promises except to keep Him first.”
Grace looked up at him, her eyes reflecting both peace and strength.
“Then let’s walk slowly. Prayerfully. Honestly. One step at a time.”
And so began a new season—
not a return to the past,
but a brave beginning into a future written only by God’s hand.
Love that had once been surrendered…
was now being restored.
