This story was originally published in The Christian Literary Network Anthology Issue One.

"Guy, that girl has been glancing in your direction all night. Omo, that babe fine die... " Paul said, nudging my arm as he let out a low whistle.

Distracted from the blog I had been reading on my phone, I looked up and glared at my friend for disturbing me.
All he ever knew was to drool over ladies. That guy didn't have a slice of restraint in him.

"And so? What's my concern with that?" I said in a flat tone.

"Pastor, pele o! Stop killing my vibe with your holier-than-thou attitude..." he retorted with a hiss.

I narrowed my eyes at him, slightly annoyed. "You're the one who insisted I come along with you, abeg. I don't see what joy you derive from being in a place like this."

Not that I wasn't comfortable here. I wasn't just used to a setting such as this.
There were neon lights of all colours splashed at every corner and the music was loud enough to encourage couples to gyrate to their heart's content. But Paul had convinced me to come, saying I had to loosen up and make quality connections while I was still in the system.
I'd soon be graduating from the Federal University of Nigeria or, like Paul likes to say, FUN.

He rolled his eyes at my speech and said, "Wahala for pesin wey no want better thing. If you want to become a monk, you should have enrolled in theology school. Party pooper!"

He glanced in that direction behind me again and oogled some more.

Just to kill the curiosity boiling in me, I turned to see who he was talking about.

Gosh, the girl was a diva. I see why Paul was giving her big attention. Unlike every other girl in this place who looked like they went to shred their clothes and then dip in a carton of spilt paint, she had an aura of natural beauty and was, to an extent, well covered. I thought she looked slightly familiar but I couldn't place her face.

Under the blue neon light of the bar stand where she sat, her flawless skin glowed. Her thick natural hair looked so fluffy that I suddenly wanted to weave my fingers into it to feel its texture.

Her large milky eyes caught mine and I felt a shiver run down my spine. I was trapped in the enchanting spell of her gaze.
I noted a hint of sadness there which made me frown slightly. She slowly removed her gaze from mine and took a sip from her wine glass.

I shook out of my induced state of stupor. What was wrong with me? The thoughts that had crossed my mind were so startling that I was frightened. I needed to leave this place.

"Shey you go shoot your shot?" Paul said leaning closer to whisper mischief into my ears.

I flinched at the thought. The only reason I had followed Paul here was because we were practically friends from the same secondary school and I wanted to put an eye on him, or so I convinced myself.

I was slipping, losing the precious gift of God that I had obtained.

When was the last time I read my Bible or even attended any fellowship program? Maybe while I was in Part One.
I didn't know how it happened, but because I got so busy pursuing a first-class grade and also my duties as the class rep and president of the Civil Engineering Students Association were highly demanding.

I recalled my SS3 days when I first met Jesus. It was bliss. I was in love with God. I broke off from my former clique of bad boys and even stopped sending love letters to the girl I had a crush on back then.
Even when I didn't gain admission until after one year of waiting at home, I didn't despair. I was always going to meetings and outreaches and retreats without any prompting from anyone.
My parents were quite pleased and I knew I had found my place of peace.

But the moment I entered university after Cynthia left, it seemed like my focus trajectory turned a full 360 degrees.

I watched as Paul stood up and began to walk towards her. She was now fully focused on gazing at a space. I felt pity and an unusual sense of protectiveness for her. Paul was a wolf and would pounce on her if he wasn't stopped. I prayed under my breath that he wouldn't do anything stupid, not quite sure if my request would be able to bridge the chasm that had now formed between me and God.

Just then, a curvy lady barely clad in anything came and intentionally collided with Paul. He was enraptured by her voluptuous figure and her exposed skin. On the pretext of apologizing and helping the lady clean herself, Paul escorted her out of my range of sight.

I glanced back at the pretty lady that Paul had been talking about. She was very lucky to have gotten the vulture's eyes off her.
I felt the urge to go meet her if only to spark a platonic conversation and get to know her a bit.

I summoned my courage and went over to the bar stand. I sat on the empty seat beside her and ordered a bottle of Energy Soda. I wondered if my choice of drink would make me look like a wimp in her eyes.

As the bartender brought my drink, I could feel her intent gaze on me.

"What took you so long?" she said, breaking the tense silence.

I looked at her, surprised by the softness of her voice. She didn't belong here, this one, and I felt obligated to make her realize that.

"I didn't realise I kept you waiting, Your Royal Highness," I said.

She gave me a small smile.

Encouraged, I went further.
"What is a decent-looking lady like you doing in a place like this?"

"I could say the same of you," she said, looking into my eyes. Her boldness was admirable. I wondered if she always spoke so confidently to people she met for the first time.

At that moment, I felt a sort of comradeship with this lady. Her intense gaze gave me goosebumps and I thought she could read into my soul and relate with the burdens I was carrying.

I shrugged and drank my soda. "I was bored and accompanied my friend here so he wouldn't go too off the tether. Are you a fresher?"

"Yes, batch B. Not looking forward to the matriculation though."

I frowned, concerned by the hurt in her voice. "Why?"

She heaved a big sigh and looked away.

"My parents are insisting they'll come. But I don't want them to."

"Hmmm, family issues I see. Is that why you're here?"

She sighed again and said, "It's not as simple as it sounds. I just had to clear my head after another heated argument with my Dad over the phone. They blame me for the death of my brother. They don't care that I'm also hurting. Now, they're insisting I come home after the matriculation for his burial. But of course, I have a shoot on the day they fixed it. It's a contract I can't break, but at the same time, I don't want to be seen as the witch."

I gulped, my heart resonating with her rant. I didn't know why she felt free to divulge all that information to me, a stranger. "Wow! That's a lot."

"Yeah, you can say that again. Being a natural hair model isn't an easy job."

"I can only imagine. Pardon my bad manners. I'm Nathan Imole. Penultimate year undergraduate, Civil engineering."

She took my outstretched hand and gave me a brief shake as she said, "I'm Sharon. Sharon Ainimoni. Part one, Kinesiology."

My lips swung open in shock and everything clicked.

"No way! You're the Sharon Ainimoni that won the 2015 MTP Modesty teenage pageant?"

Yup, thanks to Cynthia, I knew those things.
MTP was a Christian beauty contest and wasn't just based on physical measures. They judged the pageants based on the depth of their intimacy with Jesus as well. Sharon had been a shining star through every phase of the 2015 edition contest. Even I had admired her then. But of course, it was foolhardy and I didn't even dwell on it then. Besides, I was sure I admired her relationship level with Jesus more than her physical beauty.

Cynthia would force me to watch the contest with her for hours late into the night before our mom would come to chase us both to our rooms. The memories were bittersweet now.

Sharon cocked her brow, apparently surprised that I recognised her.

"I didn't think boys were into that kind of stuff," she said, a playful smirk on her lips.

I averted my eyes and said, "Blame my little sister o. You were her idol after Jesus. We religiously followed you on TV for the entire duration of the contest. When our parents even got her a phone, you were among the first people she followed on Instagram."

I thought I saw a pained wince flash across her features but she quickly hid it by smiling.
"Awww. You have a little sister. No wonder you're so gentlemanly."

My voice turned bland. "Not anymore. Cynthia died two years ago."

She fell silent. After a long while, she placed her hand on mine. I froze as sensations I wasn't supposed to be enjoying coursed through my spine.

Memories of my Dad's instructions not to allow myself to be carried away by girls, and that I should focus on Jesus and my books, came rushing into my mind. But the moment Sharon began to speak, everything melted away.

"Nathan, I'm so sorry for the loss of your sister. I knew from the moment I laid my eyes on you that we were looking for the same thing. Answers. Truth. Life. Maybe we should find it together. That life we once had."

As though I had been scorched by her words, I jolted up.
I had to leave! What had I been thinking coming here in the first instance?

I knew I hadn't exactly been a good Christian lately and I missed my relationship with God. I couldn't completely risk my chances of a reconciliation with God by gallivanting with temptation like this. Though her words were indeed true, the effect she was having on me wasn't exactly helping matters. My mind was already running through many scenarios in which both of us ended in sin disguised as pleasure.

"Don't leave. Please," she said, her voice wobbling with emotion.

I was torn. She had brought memories of my little sister who died because of a terrible episode due to her sickle cell status.

I had lots of questions myself. I wasn't in the right state to help anyone. So, I simply told her, "I'm sorry, Sharon. But I'm not the one to help you. I also need help."

As I quickly scanned the bar, to check if I would see Paul, the vagabond that I had come with, she spoke up frantically again.

"Then, I'm coming with you. There'll be no public transport at this time, Nathan. It's 2:34 am! I see a speck of light in you. If that's all I get, I'm willing to hang on."

She picked up her purse, paid for my drink and hers and went out. I followed, not thinking or able to protest.

She led us to her car. Yup, she had her posh vehicle. I felt embarrassed because here I was with only one year left before my graduation and I couldn't even brag about a bicycle I owned. I stood, gawking at the comfortable-looking car, wondering what she wanted me to do.

"Come in," she insisted as she buckled her seatbelt. "Let's get out of here. We need to talk."

A little flustered, I entered beside her in the front seat.

"Where are you taking us?" I asked as she ignited the engine. So she could drive?

"Somewhere, anywhere..." she trailed off and began to back out of the parking lot.

We hardly spoke throughout the ride. I was trying to get a rein on my wild thoughts. Whatever happened tonight, I just knew it was going to be a turning point in my life forever.

I was very surprised when Sharon drove to the premises of a church that seemed to be open. There was no service going on, but we could see lights streaming inside.

Sharon got down and walked in a trance-like motion into the building where a long aisle greeted us.

I just followed her like a pup, my heart thudding as I realised it seemed God had set me up, maybe her too because she looked like she was fighting tears.

As she walked, looking straight at the large white cross that decorated the altar, she began to speak tearfully.

"I hated myself for a very long time, Nathan. James wasn't supposed to die. He wasn't supposed to die. I was careless and stupid. That kitchen accident was my fault. If only I had switched off the gas the night before, the explosion that killed him wouldn't have happened."

"I can relate," I muttered. "When Cynthia died, I cut myself off from the fellowship of believers because deep inside I figured it was pointless to continue lying to myself that I was fine with how she was so cruelly snatched from us. I wanted to be left alone. God should just leave me..."

Sharon took a pause and turned to me.

"Nathan, tonight, I felt strongly that should go to the bar. It was a spontaneous decision. I'm not a bar girl. I'm a good girl, a pastor's daughter. But the guilt was eating up at me and I thought I was going there to drown my worries because my thoughts were already bordering on suicide.

"Then I saw you. I knew you were just like me. For the first time since James died, I heard God's familiar voice. He said he was going to get you and me out of the mire we were sinking in."

I was stunned. God had come for me? Just on the brink of losing every last vestige of restraint I had left. Tears welled up in my eyes.

"We're all broken people. That's why we need God," I said hoarsely, quoting my Dad's words.

"He's the only one who can restore us completely. I see that now," Sharon said, tears brimming in her beautiful eyes.

Sharon walked forward and knelt before the altar, tears streaming down her face.

I could feel the tangibility of intimacy being restored. I didn't want to be left out so I went to a nearby corner too to pray.

Under my breath, I desperately cried out to God to heal my heart and reconnect me back to Him. I was in that state for a very long time. God's love and comfort slowly washed over me.

When I rose, I felt very lighthearted. Something had changed on my inside. It was as though all the questions and bitterness I harboured against God were now inconsequential.

Sharon was still on her knees but the smile that lit her face was infectious. She was also free and restored.

"No more lone rangers, yeah..." I said, giving her a high five when she was finally done.

Sharon said, "I guess not. Thank you. For coming with me. I'd have never had the courage to come to church if it wasn't for you."

"What? I should be thanking you. You initiated everything."

She laughed and her eyes twinkled.

"Then, we should thank the real mastermind behind all of this," she said as she reverently looked towards the altar where the glowing cross stood.
Her face was even more beautiful.

I could only see her as my sister in Christ now, no strings attached. I was truly transformed, I knew that. However, I could strongly sense that there was a purpose why we had been led to each other with these tiny connections.

As we went out very early that morning, exchanging contact and making plans on how we would attend this church together, my thoughts went to Paul. He also had to experience this restoration. He had to see the joy in being joined in love with Christ, the only source of satisfaction.

~~~

Author's note: Sometimes, life can snatch our most precious treasures from us and then we blame God and begin to backslide from the path of life we walked on. Or it could be gradual and we don't know why our passion is dwindling... The truth is, we are mortals and just like Nathan and Sharon in this story, we have nagging questions and pain that frustrate us. But the solution isn't isolation or being a lone ranger. We need each other. That's the purpose of the body of Christ, so we can bear each other's burdens.
I just hope this story made you see that there is still hope of total recovery of our lost love if we come to God sincerely and release ourselves to His hand.
If you loved this story, want to share your testimony/review or would like to get my other free novels and short stories, kindly reach out to me via the details provided in my bio. God bless you.