Everyone had gathered for choir rehearsal on a chilly Saturday evening.
The rain from the afternoon still lingered in the air, leaving the church grounds cold and damp.
Alex Warren and Raymond Whitmore were already leading the team through the songs for Sunday's ministration when the door opened and Fred walked in.
He moved straight to the front and sat down.
The entire choir paused, surprised by his boldness.
"I want to lead tomorrow's ministration," he said, firm and unapologetic.
Alex rolled his eyes. "Have you forgotten the rule? Once you're thirty minutes late, you lose your chance to lead. Besides, you've turned down almost every opportunity we offered you. Why now?"
"Mind your business," Fred shot back.
Raymond stepped forward, clearing his throat gently. "The choir masters choose who leads. Brother Fred Thompson, you are not spiritually prepared to lead tomorrow."
Fred's eyes hardened. "So you think you're more spiritual than me?"
"If you were spiritually grounded, you wouldn't be arguing about this," Raymond replied calmly.
Alex smirked. "Besides, you've been demoted to a regular choir member. You have no say here."
Raymond gave Alex a soft warning look.
"Brother Alex, let's focus on why we're here."
He continued guiding the choir through the songs.
Fred watched him...really watched him.
For the first time in his life, he felt genuinely challenged by another man.
Raymond's quiet strength, humility, and peaceful spirit unsettled him.
He handled the Lord's work as though it were his life's salary, managing everyone with grace and patience.
Fred's eyes shifted to Martha, who was quietly writing the meeting minutes.
In that moment, something inside him broke.
The way she stole glances at Raymond…
she had never looked at him like that.
Had she ever truly been happy with him?
Tears gathered in his eyes.
It hit him... painfully, undeniably...that he had lost her.
He walked out to his car, unable to breathe.
He sobbed like a child.
It had been over a month since she last spoke to him.
Even though she promised to give him an answer after pursuing her dream as a world-renowned chef, the way she now looked at Raymond… she looked like someone who had found peace.
And when Fred entered the church, she hadn't even lifted her head.
He stayed in his car as the choir members left the building one by one.
No one looked his way.
No one stopped.
No one spoke to him.
For the first time, he realized he hadn't only been toxic to Martha...he had pushed everyone else away too.
People avoided him.
When he saw Alex walking toward the parking lot, Fred stepped out quickly.
"Hi," he said quietly, avoiding Alex's eyes.
Alex stopped. "What do you want this time?"
Fred swallowed. "I wanted to apologize. For everything I put you through."
Alex blinked, stunned. "What do you want from me, Fred?"
"I'm serious. I'm sorry. I acted like the world revolved around me. And I'm sorry I ruined our friendship because I was jealous… I thought you had something with Martha."
Alex's expression softened. "Fred… the Martha everyone is fighting for has her heart locked on Raymond Whitmore. I've been in this church for years trying to get her attention. Just weeks after Raymond arrived… she looks at him like he's her home. Pastor Burke even had a dream on Wednesday that they got married. But Raymond's been avoiding her for over a month now, and it's hurting her. He has completely stolen her heart...maybe because he's the right one for her."
Fred's voice cracked. "No… he can't be the right one when I'm finally ready to change. He can't be the right one when I've loved her for ten years!"
Alex looked at him calmly. "Fred, you always needed a reason to marry her. Even when she was worthy, you kept waiting because of your worldly sense of class. Raymond didn't need her to drive a fancy car or dress like high society. He saw her, and he loved her as she was. If you were in her shoes, wouldn't you choose clarity over confusion? She has finally learned to love herself."
Fred wiped his face. "But now I see that being a chef gives her class and recognition..."
"And that's the problem," Alex cut in. "Your loyalty still depends on her status, not her soul. That's not love."
He patted Fred on the back, then drove off.
When all the choir members were gone except Raymond and Martha, Fred walked back into the building, curiosity gnawing at him.
Martha was typing. "I just sent the sample design for the 'Praise Till Dawn' program to the media team."
"Alright," Raymond replied without looking up.
She sighed. "You can at least be professional enough to look at me, even if we aren't on talking terms."
He finally lifted his eyes. "My heart beats too loudly when I look at you. That's why I avoid your eyes anytime you talk to me".
Tears glistened in hers. "So breaking my heart was your best option? After everything? We worked on my dreams together… and when they came true, you couldn't even share the joy with me."
He rose and stepped toward her. "You have no idea how hard it was not to call you. Not to look at you. Not to think about you. Every day I wanted to share everything with you, but I could only miss you from afar."
"You shouldn't have stopped talking to me," she whispered.
"I thought you only felt indebted to me," he confessed. "I thought you still loved your ex. I didn't want to stand in the way of what you truly wanted."
"The first day I saw you," she said softly, "I knew what I wanted. A man who accepted me as I am. You did. You saw my worth immediately. What more could I want?"
Tears filled his eyes. "Are you saying… if I ask you to marry me, you'd say yes?"
"You said it freely the first day we met," she replied gently. "Why can't you say it now? What changed?"
He exhaled shakily, opened his laptop bag, and brought out a small ring box... dusty from months of hiding.
"I bought this the same day I took you to the hospital," he said trembling. "I held onto God's word about you being my wife."
He knelt before her, opening the box.
"Please… be my wife, Martha Smith. Let me be the man you can talk to freely, the man who listens without judgment. Let me be your peace when the world feels like a storm. Let me share your pain, your laughter, your dreams. Let me be the man you feel safe with. Martha… be my wife."
Tears streamed down her face. "Yes, Raymond Whitmore. I will be your wife."
He placed the ring into her finger and pulled her into a tight, joy-filled embrace.
"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for letting me put this ring on your finger."
"You don't know how I feel right now," she sobbed.
He wiped her tears gently.
She was safe...finally safe with the right person.
Her Raymond.
From the shadowed hallway, Fred watched the entire scene.
He covered his mouth to trap the sound of his cry.
It was the most painful sight of his life.
***
It was the Whitmores' usual Christmas Eve tradition... lighting the big fireplace behind the house and cooking together like one big happy family.
Mrs. Whitmore clapped her hands as she opened the bowl of marinated steak.
"Martha, taste this seasoning. Tell me it's not perfect!"
Martha laughed. "Mum, you already know it's perfect. I don't even need to taste it."
"Ahh, flattery!" Mrs. Whitmore nudged her playfully. "You're learning my tricks."
Martha smiled, but there was a softness in her eyes.
There was a time she thought she had lost everything… but meeting the Whitmores had changed her life.
Behind them, Mr. Whitmore and Raymond were arranging chopped wood.
Raymond struck a match.
"Dad, the fire pit is crooked again," he teased.
Mr. Whitmore raised his hands dramatically.
"Leave me alone! When you're my age and still handsome, then you can complain."
They all laughed as Martha and Mrs. Whitmore placed the steak on the fire grate.
Out of nowhere, Mr. Whitmore began one of his famous stories. "Have I told you people how fat I used to be? If I fell down, two men had to lift me. TWO!"
Raymond groaned loudly. "Dad! Not again."
Mrs. Whitmore burst into laughter. "It's true! When I introduced him as my boyfriend, my model friends almost fainted. 'You're dating him?' they said."
"And look at me now," Mr. Whitmore declared proudly. "Slim, handsome, and still the love of her life!"
"Debatable," she teased, and they all giggled.
On the other side of the deck, Raymond's brothers returned with two huge fish.
"From Granny's pond!" one of them announced, lifting the fish high.
"Tonight we're eating like Americans on a road trip," Raymond joked. "Steak, grilled fish, mac and cheese, cornbread, mashed potatoes, apple pie...the full Christmas combo!"
"Don't forget the barbecue beans," Mr. Whitmore added.
After the meal, they all pushed their chairs closer to the fire, bellies full, hearts warm.
Mrs. Whitmore leaned back. "So… wedding talk. Martha, how are preparations going?"
Raymond turned to look at her...with that expression that said she was the only woman in the world.
No competition.
Not work.
Not life.
Just her.
Martha met his gaze, shy but glowing.
She was highly favoured.