THE BATTLE FOR A SAINTESS | PART FOURTEEN
Night had settled fully over the presidential residence. The compound beyond the tall walls lay quiet under a dark velvet sky.
Security lights glowed faintly across the tiled courtyard outside, while distant insects hummed in the surrounding gardens.
Inside Orean’s guest room, a ceiling fan rotated steadily above, slicing the still air with a soft rhythmic hum, as if counting the heartbeats of the two people standing in the doorway.
A polished wooden table stood between two chairs. Upon it lay an open Bible, its thin pages faintly stirring whenever the fan’s breeze shifted.
The warm ceiling light cast a gentle glow over the room’s cream-colored walls and thick curtains that framed a tall window overlooking the compound.
The faint scent of jasmine from the garden drifted through the window, brushing the tension away little by little.
Excel stepped inside slowly and closed the door behind her, sealing the quiet moment between them.
She moved toward the chair beside the table. Her fingers brushed lightly against the edge of the wood as she sat down, smoothing her nightdress and composing her face.
The light above hummed faintly, casting a soft glow that settled between them.
Her fingers lifted slightly toward the chair opposite her, a casual gesture that softened the formality of the room.
A faint curve touched her lips, restrained but playful, as if testing how far the moment could bend. Her tone slipped in lightly, carrying a teasing ease beneath its politeness.
Excel (teasing):
"Please, take your seat. You are not my bodyguard."
The words softened the air instantly. Orean’s shoulders loosened and a quiet laugh escaped him.
The open Bible on the table reflected the gentle light as though witnessing the moment.
The tension dissolved into simple humanity as both shared a brief laugh. Orean pulled out the chair and sat down across from her.
Excel shifted in her seat, crossing her legs slowly. Her fingers twisted together on her lap as though wrestling with something deeper within.
Then she lifted her head. A thoughtful silence lingered between them. Her voice finally emerged with careful weight.
Excel (carefully):
"Orean… I want to ask you something."
The words hung in the air like the first ripple in still water. Orean straightened slightly in his chair, folding his arms loosely as he watched her face with quiet attention.
Outside the compound walls, distant traffic murmured faintly, but inside the room the moment felt sacred and still. Orean’s tone came gently, inviting her forward.
Orean (gently):
"Please, go on."
The invitation settled warmly between them. Excel drew in a breath, her eyes lowering briefly before rising again to meet his.
The ceiling fan continued its steady rhythm above them, stirring the air as though time itself slowed to listen.
Excel’s posture remained composed, but her eyes held a quiet attentiveness as she studied his reaction.
Her voice settled into measured calm, each word chosen carefully, as if she were stepping gently across something fragile.
Excel (measured):
"Don’t you have a wife and children back in your country? If you do… maybe you should visit them. Or bring them here."
The question lingered between them like a suspended thread.
The soft hum of the room seemed to pause as though the unseen realm itself leaned closer to hear what lay behind her curiosity.
Orean blinked once, his brows pulling together slightly, his composure shifting just enough to reveal a crack of surprise before settling again into focus.
His voice lifted with puzzled disbelief, words edged with confusion as they left him.
Orean (startled):
"Are you kidding… or are you serious?"
Excel quickly shook her head, waving her hand dismissively. A faint crease formed on her forehead while the curtain shifted gently in the passing breeze.
Her posture held steady, eyes locked on him without wavering.
Her response came sharp and immediate, the firmness in her tone cutting cleanly through what little lightness remained in the air.
Excel (firmly):
"I'm serious. I just want to know if you are married."
Orean studied her face for a moment longer before easing back into his chair.
The tension in his shoulders loosened, and a faint understanding settled across his expression, softening the intensity in his eyes.
His mouth curved slightly, not into amusement, but into quiet clarity as the realization dawned. He answered with simple honesty.
Orean (honest):
"Well… I understand now. Let me be clear. I am not married. I don’t have a wife—children."
The truth settled calmly into the room. Excel’s shoulders relaxed just slightly. A subtle softness flickered in her eyes as though an invisible weight had quietly lifted from her heart.
The open Bible remained still on the table, its silent presence watching the unfolding moment.
Her gaze lingered on him a fraction longer, then eased away as something gentle settled into her expression. Her tone softened, unforced, almost relieved.
Excel (softly):
"I see."
The night breeze drifted through the open window, carrying the faint scent of jasmine into the room.
Orean remained still, watching her with calm attention as she paused, curiosity beginning to replace her earlier restraint.
Excel shifted forward slightly in her chair, eyes settling on him with a more searching focus, as if testing the weight of her own question before letting it go.
Her voice softened into something reflective, shaped by curiosity rather than certainty.
Excel (thoughtful):
"But… are you not thinking about getting married?"
The question moved through the room like a careful probe into hidden ground.
Orean leaned back slightly against his chair, arms folding more firmly across his chest as he settled into himself.
A faint, untroubled smile touched his face, steady and composed. His gaze held her for a brief moment, calm certainty settling into his expression before he spoke.
Orean (steady):
"To be honest, marriage is not on my mind right now. I’m focused on what God sent me to do here."
The words carried a quiet spiritual gravity. The lamp light shimmered faintly across the open Bible as though affirming the mission he spoke of.
The room itself seemed wrapped in a peaceful seriousness that stood in contrast to the personal curiosity of the moment.
Excel slowly stood up. She walked toward the window, her bare feet silent on the tiles.
The curtain parted slightly beneath her hand as she looked out over the silent compound.
Security lights reflected off the tiled walkway outside, casting long shadows across the quiet grounds.
Her shoulders eased, but her focus stayed fixed beyond the glass, as though the answer mattered more than the room behind her.
Her voice left her without turning, calm but testing—careful, like she was measuring his heart more than his words.
Excel (probing):
"Alright. But if God brings a godly sister to you, will you accept her?"
The question floated into the stillness like a stone dropped into deep water. Orean remained seated behind her, the open Bible glowing quietly under the lamp.
His fingers tapped lightly against his forearm as though tracing memory. His eyes drifted briefly toward the open Bible. His lips parted, voice low and reflective.
Orean (reflective):
“Marriage is God’s idea. From the beginning, it was His design.”
The soft whir of the ceiling fan continued overhead while the pages of the open Bible quivered slightly in the moving air.
Excel stood near the window, listening carefully, her posture calm yet attentive.
Outside the compound wall, a distant vehicle passed faintly along the road, its sound fading as Orean’s reflective tone lingered in the room.
His hand rose slightly, almost as though he were turning the sacred pages in the air before him.
His voice followed in a calm, measured line—firm in scripture, gentle in delivery, shaped by steady conviction.
Orean (calm):
“The Bible says in Genesis, ‘And the LORD God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him.’”
Excel’s gaze shifted subtly toward the open Bible on the table, the warm light touching the gold edges of its pages.
The atmosphere carried a calm reverence, as though the Word itself had entered the conversation.
Orean lifted his hand again, his eyes thoughtful as if replaying the ancient moment in his mind.
His gaze softened slightly, fixed on a point beyond the room, as though the scene he described was unfolding before him. His tone emerged measured and thoughtful.
Orean (thoughtful):
“And when God brought Eve to Adam, he did not argue. He did not say, ‘Let me think about it.’ He received what God presented.”
Excel’s eyes narrowed slightly with interest, her body still turned partly toward the night outside.
A faint breeze from the fan brushed the curtain behind her, making it sway softly against the window frame.
Orean leaned forward slightly, fingertips resting near the edge of the Bible as his focus settled more sharply on her.
A quiet clarity formed in his expression, as though the thought had already taken root before he spoke it. His voice held a calm firmness.
Orean (teaching):
“That shows us something. When something truly comes from God, it carries peace and confirmation—not confusion.”
The statement hung in the air like a quiet spiritual law. The atmosphere in the room felt thoughtful and charged with meaning.
Excel’s fingers rested against the curtain’s edge while the dim glow of the compound lights outside faintly outlined her silhouette.
Orean lifted his eyes from the Bible, his focus locking onto her with quiet certainty, as though the question had already found its answer within him long before it was spoken.
His posture straightened slightly, resolve steadying his tone without urgency, but with clear conviction.
Orean (firm):
“So if God gives me a wife, why should I say no?”
The room fell still for a heartbeat. Excel slowly turned away from the window. The curtain slipped gently back into place behind her, settling against the wall.
Her lips curved into a slow smile, and she raised one eyebrow playfully as she studied him.
Her head tilted slightly, tone light and teasing as it slipped out with effortless ease.
Excel (teasing):
“Uhm... so that means you have marriage in mind—even if it’s not now.”
The ceiling fan continued spinning above, and the warm room light reflected faintly in Excel’s eyes as she watched his reaction.
Orean leaned back slightly in his chair, a quiet smile forming as soft laughter settled in the enclosed space.
His eyes stayed on her, relaxed but attentive, as though gently inviting her to continue rather than escape the moment. His voice light with ease, yet still anchored in curiosity.
Orean (smiling):
“You brought up the topic. So what are you thinking?”
Excel did not answer immediately. Instead, a subtle shift passed through the room.
She stepped away from the window. Her footsteps were slow and measured across the tiled floor as she moved toward him.
She stopped close enough for the ceiling light to fully illuminate her face.
Determination burned quietly in her eyes as they locked onto his, her shoulders settling into a firm stillness.
The words formed with deliberate control, her tone steady but no longer guarded.
Excel (steady):
“I’m not thinking about anything... but I will be honest with you.”
The room seemed to tighten around them. Orean watched her carefully now, sensing the shift in her tone.
The Bible lay open between them on the table like a silent witness.
Excel lifted her chin slightly, fingers clasped together in front of her, eyes holding his without wavering as if she had stepped past hesitation into certainty.
Her lips parted, voice steady and direct, stripped of evasion and carrying a quiet finality.
Excel (unblinking):
“I love you.”
The words settled into the room like a seal being placed on a hidden truth.
For a moment, everything seemed suspended—the fan, the light, even breath itself.
Orean remained still, absorbing the weight of what had been spoken.
The atmosphere deepened into something sacred and fragile, as though heaven and silence were holding the moment together.
A storm that never made noise but still changed everything.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Written by Agbemawle Atsu Norvishi
© All Rights Reserved. Shared freely to bless and inspire.
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