The crowd outside the Super Save Supermarket stood frozen like mannequins. A Bentley Sleek had just pulled up on the dusty roadside. No one expected what came next. A woman stepped out tall and radiant, her figure wrapped in an elegant cream colored jumpsuit. Her heels clicked confidently on the pavement and her presence turned every head. That was Monica. People knew her.

She wasn’t just any woman. She was the Monica Williams, billionaire tech genius, Africa’s software queen, the moniker behind Mtech, the face on Forbes Africa, the one every mother prayed their daughters would become. But today, Monica wasn’t here for an interview or a board meeting or to shop for exotic wine. She was walking straight toward a homeless man.

He sat on the sidewalk near a stack of empty crates. His tattered brown coat layered over a faded green shirt that hadn’t seen soap in weeks. His beard was tangled like a forest. His hair spilled out in every direction. A ragged black bag hung from his shoulder like it was carrying his entire life. He looked up slowly, confused.

No one ever came to him, especially not a woman like that. She paused in front of him and smiled. My name is Monica,” she said softly. The man blinked. “Jacob. Jacob Uch.” And then, just as everyone’s jaws dropped, she did the unthinkable. “I’ve seen you here,” she said. “You speak like a scholar. You talk about data and business like someone who’s lived in that world.

I don’t know who you are or where you’re from, but I believe I believe you just need a second chance.” She took a deep breath. Her heart thundered in her chest. “So, I’m asking you something crazy. Will you marry me?” The street went silent. Jacob’s mouth parted in disbelief. He shook his head slightly, trying to process what he had just heard.

Then he smiled, but it was sad. “If you really mean that,” he said slowly. “Go inside that supermarket, buy a ring, come back, kneel down, and ask me like you mean it.” Gasps erupted from the onlookers. Is he mad? Who rejects a billionaire? But Monica didn’t flinch. She turned, walked calmly into the supermarket, and just 5 minutes later, she returned. In her hand was a diamond ring worth more than most people’s houses.

And without hesitation, right there, in front of dozens of shocked strangers, the billionaire single mom bent one knee and raised the ring. Jacob Uch. Her voice trembled. “Will you marry me?” he froze. People filmed. Some cried. Others laughed. Cars slowed down. One woman puts her hand on her head out of disbelief. Jacob looked down at her. This stunning woman who had everything and still saw something in him.

In his weakness, in his dirt, in his pain, he nodded slowly. “Yes,” he whispered. She slid the ring on his finger. He stared at it in disbelief. She smiled again and said, “Now get in the car.” He hesitated, looking at his muddy trousers, his smell, his crusted fingernails. “I’ll stain your seat,” he mumbled. “I don’t care.

” He stood up slowly like someone rising from the dead. And just like that, she opened the door and he stepped into the Bentley, leaving behind the only life he had known for years. But Jacob had no idea. His story was just beginning.

The Bentley hummed quietly as Monica pulled into the heart of Victoria Island, the city sparkling like a sea of diamonds under the Lagos sun. Jacob sat stiffly in the passenger seat. His bag clutched tightly on his lap, his eyes darting between Monica and the road ahead. Everything felt like a dream. This morning he was invisible, a ghost in dirty clothes.

Now he was engaged to Nigeria’s most admired woman and he didn’t even know how Monica stole a quick glance at him. His eyes were red. Not from emotion, not yet, but from years of dust, heat, and the sting of survival. There was so much she wanted to ask, but not yet. He needed time. First, dignity. We’re making a quick stop, she said gently. Jacob only nodded.

She parked outside a luxury grooming studio. The sign read Kingsman Barbers Spa. Everything inside glittered marble floors, gold rimmed mirrors, mahogany counters. A man in a white shirt opened the door with a bow but paused when he saw Jacob. Monica stepped in first. He’s with me, she said. That was enough.

Inside, the staff hesitated, then obeyed. She turned to Jacob and smiled. Let them clean you up. I’ll wait. For the next hour, Jacob sat motionless as barbers clipped, washed, shaved, and scrubbed years of grime from his skin. His overgrown beard fell away in pieces.

His thick hair was trimmed, styled, and brushed until it looked like it belonged on a GQ cover. By the time they handed him a mirror, he didn’t recognize the man staring back. His jawline was sharp, his cheeks high. His dark eyes, tired but intelligent, had a new fire. He touched his face slowly, blinking in disbelief. “Sir, your clothes,” one of the stylists said, holding a new outfit, a tailored white shirt, black trousers, polished loafers. Jacob hesitated.

Then he slipped into the changing room. When he stepped out, Monica stood up. She gasped. In the place of the scruffy homeless man was someone else entirely, someone she hadn’t even imagined. Jacob’s transformation was almost cinematic, like something pulled out of a dream. He looked powerful. She smiled. “Now that’s the man I saw.” Jacob said nothing for a moment. His throat tightened.

“I feel like I feel like I just came back to life. You haven’t seen anything yet,” Monica said. They got back into the Bentley and headed home. When they reached the gate, Jacob’s eyes widened. “This is your house,” he asked. “No,” she smiled. “It’s our home now.” The gates rolled open, revealing a massive white mansion wrapped in glass with tall palm trees lining the driveway.

A fountain danced in the center, and a golden retriever barked joyfully from the garden. Jacob stepped out slowly like a child walking into a fairy tale. Inside, the mansion smelled of vanilla and lavender. Every surface sparkled. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The living room had art from Ghana, Egypt, South Africa, a blend of African royalty and modern elegance.

On the grand staircase stood a little girl with curly hair and sleepy eyes. She rubbed her eyes and asked, “Mommy, who’s that?” Monica opened her arms. Sophia, come say hi. The girl ran down and wrapped her arms around her mom. Then she looked up at Jacob. This is my friend, Monica said, crouching beside her. His name is Jacob.

And guess what? He’s going to be spending a lot of time with us now. Sophia studied him. Are you a good person? Jacob smiled softly. I’m trying to be. Then you can stay, she said. but no scary stories at night. Jacob chuckled for the first time in years. That night, Monica gave him a guest room, though it looked more like a five-star hotel suite, and brought him a plate of hot jaw of rice, fried plantain, and chicken.

He ate slowly, savoring every bite. He hadn’t eaten real food like this in years. When he was done, he sat on the balcony overlooking the city lights. Monica joined him with two glasses of wine. Now, she said, “Tell me, who are you, Jacob?” He looked down at his hands for a long time before answering. My name is Jacob Uche.

I was once one of the best data scientists in Lagos. I worked with international companies. I gave talks. I trained analysts. I built models for banks and government bodies. I was respected. He paused. I had a wife, Kleti. We had two kids, Amanda and Namdi. My parents lived with us. Life was perfect until one December. He swallowed. They were flying to Dubai for our family vacation.

I couldn’t go that morning. I had work. I was to join them the next day, but they never made it. The plane, it went down. Everyone died. No survivors. Monica’s eyes welled up. I lost everything in one day, he whispered. I didn’t want money. I didn’t want friends. I didn’t want to breathe. I walked out of my life and never went back. And I’ve been under that bridge ever since.

Tears ran down Monica’s cheeks. I know that pain, she said, her voice breaking. I lost my parents in a crash, too. And then my husband disappeared when Sophia was just two. For years, I waited, cried, prayed, but nothing. I eventually accepted he was never coming back. Jacob looked at her stunned. You built all this after that.

She nodded. I had to live for Sophia and for me. Jacob looked down. You’re a fighter. She smiled through her tears. So are you. They sat in silence, broken only by the soft chirps of night insects and the hum of the city far below. Jacob took a deep breath. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he wasn’t just alive. He wanted to live again.

That night, as he lay in the soft bed, Jacob stared at the ceiling with wide eyes. Not because he couldn’t sleep, but because for the first time in years, he was dreaming again. The next morning, Jacob woke up not to the smell of gutter water, or the sound of speeding ocadas under the bridge, but to birds singing outside his window, sunlight pouring in through silk curtains, and the scent of fresh bread wafting through the house.

For a moment he lay still, listening. Then he sat up suddenly, half expecting the whole thing to dissolve. Was he still dreaming? But there was the room, neat, polished, warm. He touched his freshly trimmed beard, ran his fingers through his now clean hair, and smiled faintly. This was real.

A soft knock on the door broke his thoughts. “Come in,” he said. It opened, and Sophia peeked in. “Good morning, Mr. Jacob. Mommy said to tell you breakfast is ready.” “Good morning, Sophia,” he replied, smiling. “And you can call me Uncle Jacob.” She grinned and nodded, then disappeared down the hallway.

Jacob took a deep breath, got dressed, and headed downstairs. Monica was already seated at the dining table, dressed in a sleek navy blue suit, her laptop open beside a bowl of fruit. “Good morning,” she said with a kind smile. “Morning,” he replied, settling into the seat across from her. The table was filled with eggs, bread, papara, and fresh orange juice.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Jacob blinked. It’s been a long time since I had this kind of meal. Then eat up, she said, closing the laptop. You’re going to need your strength. He gave her a curious look. Why are we going out? Monica leaned back in her seat and sipped from her cup. No, she said slowly. You’re starting work today.

Jacob coughed. Work? She nodded. I didn’t just propose to you for sympathy. I meant it. And I see a man with a mind too brilliant to waste. Mtech needs someone like you, Monica. I haven’t worked in years. I’m rusty. She smiled gently. Then you’ll polish up fast. You were a top data scientist once. That skill doesn’t vanish. You just need someone to remind you who you are.

He looked down at his plate, hands trembling slightly. I don’t know if I’m ready. I do, she said softly. Trust me, Jacob didn’t speak again. But deep inside, something stirred. Something that hadn’t moved in years. Hope. Later that afternoon, Jacob followed Monica into the glass tower that housed MTech headquarters, one of the most advanced tech companies in Africa. Inside, it was all glass, chrome, and confidence.

Employees wore branded shirts and ID tags. Everyone walked with purpose. As Monica entered, staff members greeted her with respect. Heads turned when they noticed Jacob walking beside her. Some whispered, “Is that her driver?” “No, that’s not her security detail either.” “Who is he?” But no one dared ask directly.

They entered the executive floor and Monica opened the door to a private officer spacious, sunlit with three monitors, whiteboards covered in data charts, and a welcome note that read, “Welcome, Mr. Uch, head of data intelligence.” Jacob froze. “This is for me.” She nodded. “From today, you’re our head of data intelligence. You’ll be working directly under me.” Jacob stepped in slowly, scanning the room.

It felt like he had stepped back into a part of his soul that had been locked away for years. He turned to Monica. Are you sure? Absolutely. From that moment, Jacob began to rediscover himself. At first, it was hard. The software had evolved. The tools were newer. The algorithms had changed. But his instincts never left him.

Within a week, he was analyzing company metrics, spotting trends no one else had seen, and suggesting changes that began saving the company millions in optimization. Monica would watch him from her office with quiet pride. One afternoon, she walked into his space and placed a file on his desk.

“You just saved us 250 million naira in annual losses,” she said. “The board is impressed.” Jacob looked up, stunned. “I was just doing my job. That’s what makes you great. He blinked, overwhelmed. I don’t even know how to say thank you. Monica smiled, folding her arms. Then don’t. Just keep being brilliant. They shared a look that lasted longer than it should have.

A quiet, growing warmth neither of them had felt in years. Weeks turned into months. Jacob wasn’t just surviving anymore. He was thriving. He gave talks in conferences, led data teams, and became a mentor to young analysts across the country. His once hollow eyes now shone with life. And as for Monica, something changed, too.

She laughed more, smiled deeper, worked less after hours, and spent more evenings on the balcony with Sophia and Jacob, talking about life and dreams. One night, as rain pattered gently outside and Lagos traffic glowed in the distance, Monica looked at Jacob. “Why did you say yes that day?” Jacob chuckled. “Honestly, I thought you were mad.” She laughed. “But,” he continued.

“There was something in your eyes. I didn’t know what it was. Maybe grace, maybe courage, maybe just hope, but I needed it.” Then he turned serious. But I didn’t believe you. Not really. That’s why I made that request. I wanted to know if you were serious. If you’d actually kneel. I never thought you’d do it. Monica tilted her head.

And now he took her hand gently. Now I know you were an angel in disguise. Silence settled again, but it wasn’t awkward. It was full. A few days later, during a late dinner on the mansion’s rooftop balcony, Jacob stood up and cleared his throat. Monica? Yes, I have something to say. She looked up confused as he reached into his pocket. Then he knelt.

Gasps escaped from Sophia and the two staff standing at the door. Jacob held up a shining platinum ring. I didn’t believe in anything when you found me, but you. You made me believe again. You gave me my life back. You gave me a reason to smile, to be a father again, to love again.

He looked into her eyes, voice trembling. Now I want to do it the right way. Monica Williams, will you marry me? Tears filled her eyes. Yes, she whispered, smiling through her tears. Yes, a thousand times yes. Sophia, now 6 years old, clapped her hands and jumped in joy. Jacob slipped the ring on her finger and the entire house erupted in celebration.

Two months later, Monica and Jacob had the most extravagant wedding Lagos had seen in years. Dignitaries, celebrities, and tech giants from around the world flew in. The media called it a love story written by Grace. But this this was only the beginning because Monica’s life was about to take another beautiful turn.

Three years had passed since Monica knelt on the dusty roadside outside Super Save Supermarket and asked a homeless man to marry her. The world had watched their story unfold with awe. It was a tale that broke the internet, filled headlines, and sparked documentaries. But to Monica and Jacob, the attention didn’t matter. What mattered was the peace they had finally found in each other. Jacob was now co-CEO of MTech.

Under his leadership alongside Monica’s visionary guidance, the company had expanded across West Africa, introducing a new line of AI powered software tools that revolutionized businesses and hospitals alike. But as the world cheered their rise, something even greater was happening behind the scenes. Something tender, sacred, and full of joy.

Monica was pregnant. The moment she found out, she cried. Not out of fear, but out of gratitude. Sophia had grown into a bright, joyful 7-year-old. And now there would be another child, a second chance, a new beginning. One sunny afternoon, Monica stood in the kitchen, humming softly as she stirred a pot of okra soup.

Her baby bump peaked out from beneath her anchor blouse. Jacob walked in and froze for a moment, simply watching her. She turned, catching him mid gaze. “What?” she asked, laughing. “Nothing?” he smiled, walking over to wrap his arms around her. “You just look like a dream I never thought I’d have again.” She leaned into him.

I thought the same, too. They kissed softly, and in that moment, the world disappeared. 2 months later, their baby boy was born. They named him Williams Chinedu in honor of Monica’s late parents and Jacob’s father. When Monica held the baby in her arms, something inside her healed. She looked at Jacob and whispered, “This This is the family I always prayed for.

” Jacob held both Monica and the baby close, whispering, “And this is the family I thought I’d never deserve again.” Sophia, now big sister, took her job seriously. She fed baby Williams, who is growing fast, rocked him, and even tried changing diapers, though she gave up halfway through one messy attempt. Their home was filled with laughter again.

But even in the midst of joy, life had one more surprise in store. Few years later, Sophia graduated from University of Nigeria as a medical doctor. Monica and Jacob attended Sophia’s graduation ceremony. Dressed in her white lab coat and stethoscope, Sophia was the youngest to graduate at just 18. As they took pictures, a tall, well-dressed young man approached her. “Hi, I’m Oina,” he said, smiling.

“I saw your presentation on GAN mapping. It was brilliant.” Sophia blushed. “Thanks.” Monica raised a brow, watching from a distance. Jacob chuckled. “Relax. She’s growing up. Weeks passed and the two of them kept in touch. What started with science chats turned into long video calls and movie hangouts.

Before long, they were inseparable. 3 months later, Oena came to the mansion with his parents to formally ask for permission to date Sophia. It was old-fashioned and deeply respectful. Monica and Jacob were impressed. Obinachuki wasn’t just any young man. He was the son of a respected judge and a rising star in biomedical engineering.

3 years later, he proposed during Sophia’s 21st birthday party in front of close friends and family. She said yes, her voice shaking with excitement. And once again, Monica cried, but this time tears of joy. Preparations for the wedding were grand. The event was hosted at the prestigious Eco Hotel in Lagos. The guest list was elite tech billionaires, diplomats, local royalty, and childhood friends who still couldn’t believe that small Sophia was getting married.

The wedding day arrived in a whirl of colorful lace, shimmering golds, and the sweet sound of live Igbo highife music. Sophia wore a dazzling ivory dress that sparkled under the chandelier lights. When the time came, Monica and Jacob stood proudly at her sides to walk her down the aisle. As Sophia clutched their arms, she whispered, “Thank you for everything.

” Jacob smiled at her, “Make us proud.” And they did. The moment Sophia said, “I do.” The crowd erupted in applause. At the reception, Monica gave a speech that made half the room tear up. But it was Jacob’s toast that left everyone speechless. He stood tall, his voice calm, but full of emotion. years ago, he began. I lived under a bridge.

I had lost my wife, my children, my parents, and myself. I believed I had no reason to live again. I gave up on life, on love, on purpose. But then an angel found me. He turned toward Monica. She didn’t just change my life. She gave me a new one. She didn’t see a homeless man. She saw a man who still had something to give.

And through her, I found love. I found family. I found home. He paused as tears welled in his eyes. And today, I get to stand here, watch our daughter begin her own journey full of love, honor, and hope. My life has come full circle. The room was silent. Then, suddenly, applause thundered through the hall. Guests stood, clapping and wiping tears.

Jacob’s story had become a symbol, a reminder that no matter how low someone falls, love can pull them back up. 9 months after Sophia and AA’s wedding, the family gathered at Monica’s mansion again, this time for a much smaller, more intimate celebration. Sophia was in a hospital gown, tired but glowing. In her arms was a newborn baby girl wrapped in pink.

They named her Amarachi, meaning God’s grace. When Jacob held his granddaughter for the first time, he whispered in her ear, “You don’t know it yet, little one, but you’re born into a miracle.” The house was filled with joy. That evening, the entire family sat on the balcony, watching the sun set over Lagos.

Sophia, Oina, baby Amarachi, Monica, Jacob, and little Williams. Now a bubbly toddler chasing butterflies across the garden. I can’t believe this is my life, Monica whispered. Jacob smiled, wrapping his arm around her. “I can,” he said. “Because everything good starts with belief.” Just then, Monica’s phone buzzed.

It was an email from the Nigerian Ministry of Science and Technology subject 20th anniversary celebration MTech to receive lifetime impact award. She read it aloud, her voice trembling. They’re awarding us. Jacob grinned. You deserve it. No, she said, turning to him. We deserve it. The 20th anniversary celebration of MTech was held at the Landmark Center in Lagos.

The hall glittered in white and gold with banners showcasing Monica and Jacob’s journey, from startup to stardom, from pain to power, from strangers to soulmates. When it was time for Jacob to speak, he walked to the stage in a sharp black suit, his steps confident, his smile warm. He looked at the sea of faces, some familiar, some new, and took a deep breath. “My name is Jacob Uche,” he began. Once I was lost. I had nothing.

No home, no hope, no heartbeat for life. But someone saw me. She knelt before me, not because I was worthy, but because she believed in what I could become. He turned to Monica. She gave me a reason to wake up again. She made me whole. He held up the award plaque. This, he said, voice trembling, is not just a trophy. This is a testimony.

a testimony that grace is real, that second chances exist, that love, real love, is not about wealth or beauty. It’s about belief. And I promise with every breath I have left, I will continue to give back the same way she gave to me. As the crowd stood in ovation, cameras flashing, Monica walked up and hugged him tightly on stage. Tears streamed down her face.

In that moment, no one saw a billionaire and a former homeless man. They saw two souls who had walked through the fire and came out holding hands. 10 years had passed since Monica Williams knelt on a dusty Lagos street and asked a homeless man to marry her. 10 years since Jacob Uch, the man once forgotten by the world, became not just her husband, but her partner in life, love, and legacy. Together, they had built more than a company.

They had built a family, a home, a symbol of second chances. Now, as the sun bathed the lush gardens of their estate in a golden hue, Monica stood by the window, sipping tea and watching her two children play in the backyard. Williams, now a curious and brilliant 9-year-old, chased butterflies with a net in one hand and a tablet in the other.

His latest obsession, coding a butterfly tracking app. Beside him, little Amarachi, Sophia’s daughter, giggled as she ran barefoot through the grass, her dress fluttering like wings behind her. Behind them stood Jacob, older now, silver streaks in his beard, but stronger than ever. He held a watering can, tending to the roses with care. Monica smiled.

This this simple quiet joy was everything she had once cried for, everything she had prayed for, everything she now held close. But beneath the peace, a new dream had begun to stir in her heart. That evening after dinner, Monica gathered the family in the living room. Sophia and Oena sat on the couch with Amarachi between them. Jacob settled beside Monica, their hands intertwined. “I have something I want to share,” Monica said.

Her tone gentle but firm. Everyone turned to her. I’ve been thinking. It’s time to do more. Oena leaned forward. More? Monica nodded. Mtech has transformed businesses. We’ve helped governments, hospitals, schools. But now I want to create something for people like Jacob once was. Jacob’s brows rose slightly.

I want to launch the Uche Foundation, she said, turning to him. A place that gives second chances. That finds the forgotten and reminds them they’re not useless. That trains and employs the homeless, widows, and orphans with skills in tech, design, and business. That tells them, “You can still rise.

” Jacob stared at her, moved beyond words. Sophia clapped slowly. “Mom, that’s beautiful.” Oena nodded. “We’ll help however we can. I already have the land, Monica continued. I bought it quietly in Aay. It used to be a market, but it’s perfect. I want to break ground next month. I want the Uch foundation to live long after we’re gone. Jacob’s throat tightened.

You’re naming it after me? She smiled. After us? After what you represent? He blinked away tears. You never stopped surprising me. Monica turned to Williams. And one day when you’re grown, this will be part of your story, too. Williams grinned. I’m already writing the code for the website. The room burst into laughter.

3 months later, the Uche Foundation was launched. It was a sprawling facility with dormitories, classrooms, computer labs, counseling centers, and startup incubators. But more than the buildings, it was the people who made it powerful. Dozens of former beggars now wore suits and held laptops. Widowed women now stood before projectors, teaching others how to design websites.

Young boys who had once hawkked pure water now presented their inventions to international investors. And every plaque, every classroom carried a line that became their slogan. Your story isn’t over yet. At the ribbon cutting ceremony, Monica stood before the crowd, her voice steady. This place is not charity, she said. It’s justice.

It’s a reminder that no human being is too far gone to be redeemed. I was celebrated. Yes, but I was also broken once. So was Jacob. And now look what God has done. As thunderous applause filled the air, Jacob stepped forward to add, “When I lost my wife, my children, my parents, I lost myself. But then Monica gave me a reason to live again.

” That’s what this foundation is about, giving people a reason. That night, as the foundation’s lights twinkled across the city skyline, Monica and Jacob stood on the rooftop of the new building, holding hands. I’m proud of you, Jacob said. Monica turned to him. I’m proud of us. He nodded. You know, sometimes I think about that day outside Super Save.

I still wonder what made you stop. Monica looked up at the stars. You know what I saw that day? Jacob raised a brow. I saw someone who knew pain but refused to let it take his mind. You talked like a man who still had brilliance inside him. I saw a broken king and I knew I was looking at someone God wasn’t finished with. Jacob smiled. And I thought you were crazy.

She laughed. I still am. But it worked. They stood in silence for a moment. Then Jacob spoke again. Monica, do you regret any of it? She turned to him. I regret not meeting you sooner. Years passed. The Uche Foundation grew beyond Nigeria. Be Monica and Jacob became keynote speakers at global conferences.

Their story was told in books, films, and schools. Young people everywhere looked up to them not just as tech giants but as proof that love and purpose could rise from ashes. Sophia became a top medical doctor and co-founded a health tech startup with her husband Oina. Their daughter Amarachi became the youngest published author in West Africa writing children’s books inspired by her grandparents love story.

Williams, ever the dreamer, built a learning app that spread across Africa’s rural communities, teaching kids to code with games and puzzles. One quiet morning, Jacob and Monica sat on their favorite garden bench. Gray now fleck their hair. Their hands were older, but still held each other tightly.

They watched as children from the foundation played nearby, laughing and running. Jacob sighed. “I’m full,” he said. Monica smiled. “Me, too.” He looked at her, his eyes soft. “I used to think God forgot about me, that I was being punished. But now, I think maybe he was just preparing me,” Monica leaned her head on his shoulder. “Everything was leading here,” she whispered.

“And this time,” Jacob said. “We’re not wasting a single moment.” Just then, little Amarachi ran up, her hands full of drawings. Grandma, Grandpa, look what I made. They took the papers and smiled. It was a sketch of a woman kneeling before a man. Above it, in big, bubbly handwriting, it read, “Love begins where pride ends.

” Jacob stared at it for a long moment. He chuckled. “She gets it.” Monica kissed the girl’s forehead. “She comes from it.” As the sun set over the garden and the evening breeze danced through the trees, Monica closed her eyes. The pain of the past, the love of the present, the promise of the future.

All of it in one moment, in one life, in one love story that began with the word please. Ends with a dream she never believed could be possible. What is your view about this story? Where are you watching from?