Chapter 7: A Gentle Pursuit
972 Words
The morning after the relationship forum, Bhola woke up feeling... unsettled.
Not in a bad way.
In a way that felt like something was shifting—something internal. Like the ache that comes after physical therapy, when weak muscles are finally being stretched in the right direction.
Joshua's words still echoed in her mind.
"I'm not trying to pass. I'm just trying to be obedient."
He wasn't chasing applause. He wasn't trying to conquer her heart.
He was pursuing obedience.
And somehow, that felt more intimate than a bouquet of roses or a poetic goodnight text.
No Pressure, Just Presence
That week, Joshua didn't bombard her with messages. He didn't start tagging her in Scripture memes or sitting beside her in every class.
He simply made space.
A few times, she caught him walking toward her building and slowing his steps—just enough that if she wanted to catch up, she could.
He left an extra prayer journal in the chapel with a sticky note inside:
"If you're ever too tired to speak, writing helps. - J"
He didn't sign his full name. He didn't need to.
Bhola never told him she found it, but she did.
She wrote in it that same night.
Friday afternoon, ~~
Bhola walked past the student café on her way to the library. She paused when she saw Joshua sitting on the patio with a worn paperback and a hot drink.
He saw her but didn't wave.
Instead, he glanced down, flipped a page, and gave her the option to come or keep walking.
For reasons she didn't fully understand, she walked toward him.
"Good book?" she asked casually.
Joshua looked up with a small grin. "The Four Loves by C.S. Lewis."
"Oh," she said, impressed. "That's not light reading."
"I like depth."
"I've noticed."
Joshua motioned toward the empty chair beside him. "Want to sit?"
She hesitated, then sat.
They didn't talk about love.
They didn't talk about feelings.
They talked about grace.
About how exhausting it is to measure yourself by past mistakes.
About how forgiveness can feel fake until you let it sink in.
Joshua sipped his green tea. "I used to think God loved a cleaner version of me. Like... the future version of me that hadn't failed yet."
Bhola nodded slowly. "Yeah. I used to think that if I messed up once, I'd miss my assignment completely. Like God would just cross me off the list."
"He's not like that," Joshua said softly.
"I know that now."
She paused, looking out at the trees beyond the café.
"You've been patient with me," she said.
"I'm not waiting for you," he said.
She blinked.
"I mean... I'm not waiting on you. I'm just walking beside you. If our paths keep crossing, I'll take that as grace. If not, I'll still be grateful."
That stopped her.
There was no pressure in his tone. No agenda. Just peace.
Joshua leaned back in his chair. "Gentle pursuit doesn't mean weak intention. It means I'm trusting God more than my feelings."
Later That Evening~~~
Bhola sat with Janelle in their dorm, legs tucked beneath her as she processed the unexpected peace she felt.
"So..." Janelle prompted, biting into a slice of pineapple pizza.
Bhola exhaled. "We talked."
"I figured. Your face looks like you've been internally touched."
Bhola laughed. "What does that even mean?"
"It means Joshua's doing something to your soul, sis."
Bhola fell quiet, then whispered, "He said he's not waiting on me. Just walking beside me."
Janelle sat up. "Oop. That's a bar."
"I didn't know men like him existed."
"They don't. Not without Jesus."
~~~~~~
Just as peace started to bloom, the enemy sowed weeds.
On Saturday afternoon, Bhola received a DM from Elijah—the Elijah.
Her ex.
The one who blurred boundaries and left scars wrapped in Scripture.
"Hey, stranger. Saw something that reminded me of you today. Hope you're doing well. Would love to talk if you're open."
Bhola's stomach flipped.
She stared at the screen, old anger mixing with panic. She hadn't spoken to him in nearly two years. The audacity of him reaching out now?
She locked her phone and threw it across her bed....
That evening,
Joshua texted her—not because of the DM, not knowing that anything had happened. Just checking in.
Hey. Just felt led to say you're covered. Whatever tries to distract you this week—God's already ahead of it.
Bhola stared at the message, heart pounding.
She called him.
Joshua answered on the second ring. "Hey, everything okay?"
"I need to ask you something," she said with haste. "And I need you to be honest."
"Always."
"If someone from your past tries to reach out, someone who hurt you... Do you answer?"
Joshua was silent for a moment.
Then said, "I'd ask God if it's a trap or a test. Some doors stay shut for a reason."
Bhola nodded, with a lump in her throat. "Yeah. That's what I thought."
Joshua didn't ask for details.
Didn't pry.
He just said, "If you ever want to pray about it, I'm here."
Bhola whispered, "Thank you."
That night, Bhola returned to the chapel.
The prayer journal Joshua had left sat on the third pew, right where he'd placed it.
She opened it and wrote:
"God... I think I'm starting to believe again. Not just in good men—but in the possibility that you still write love stories. But I need you to be the one writing this. Because I don't trust my pen anymore."
End of Chapter 7~~~
Joshua's Journal
" Gentle pursuit. Not chasing Bhola, but walking with Christ toward her if he allows. Today she called. Her voice shook, but her spirit stood taller than before. I feel like this story is deeper than romance. It's about redemption."
- Writer
