Chapter 48
I'm already here at the University, tahimik lang akong nakaupo habang ang mga kaklase ko ay nagsasagot pa rin ng test. Cynthia gave us a 100-item test, plus an essay worth 50 points. I'm done-again, as usual.
Pero kahit tapos na ako, hindi ko magawang ngumiti.
Hindi ko maalis sa isip ko 'yung nangyari kanina.
Hindi niya ako pinapansin. I've been trying to catch her eye, kahit mabilis lang, pero wala. Ayaw talaga niya akong tignan. We had a fight kanina sa bahay niya, just before we left for school. Kahit anong suyo at lambing ko, wala-parang wala na talaga siyang gana sa akin.
We were in the kitchen earlier.
She was making breakfast for the both of us-something simple, pero favorite ko: garlic fried rice, itlog, and ham.
I was sitting quietly at the table at first, just watching her move around.
Ang ganda niya kahit naka-pambahay lang, her hair was still a little messy.
But of course, I couldn't stay quiet for long. I got up and walked behind her, then wrapped my arms around her waist. I kissed her back gently, a soft, slow kiss-just something sweet to start the morning. Pero hindi ko in-expect ang reaksyon niya.
"Stop kissing me," she said, coldly, pushing me away with one hand.
Napaatras ako ng bahagya. "Huh? Why? Did I do something wrong? Ba't ka ganyan?" I asked, my lips forming a pout, trying to keep things light kahit there's something off.
Kanina lang, okay naman kami. She even hugged me sa kama bago kami bumangon. Pero ngayon, parang ibang tao siya.
"Did you have fun making love with your girls before, huh?" she asked, her voice sharp while she plated the food. "Did that feel good for you?"
"Ha? Wait-what? That was a long time ago! And it wasn't even serious! It was just a game-" Naputol ang paliwanag ko. "Wait... paano mo nalaman?"
She turned and stared at me, eyes calm but guarded. "I'm not stupid. I know you more than you know yourself. I know the things you've done."
Natahimik ako. Hindi ko alam kung anong isasagot. Ang bigat sa dibdib. Hindi ko akalaing may ganito pa pala siyang kinikimkim.
Then she added, more quietly, "Stop kissing me... it reminds me of you kissing someone else. And there were many of them."
She placed the plate on the table, sat down, and started eating without saying anything more. I just stood there, still, wishing I could take it all back-even the things I did before I met her.
I couldn't stand it. The silence felt suffocating. She'd always been the one to make the first move, to apologize when things went wrong, but now she was pulling away, and I had no idea how to fix it.
I had to do something. I had to make her understand that it was all in the past, that she was the one I cared about. I couldn't let her think that I was still the same person who made mistakes back then.
I took a deep breath, gathering what little courage I had left. "Cynthia, please, listen to me."
She didn't turn around, but I could tell she heard me. She always did.
"Please," I said again, this time a little more firmly. "I know you're upset, but what happened before-it's in the past. It was before I even met you. It was just a stupid game. It doesn't mean anything, Cynthia. Nothing ever meant anything like what you mean to me."
She paused for a brief moment, her hand stilling on the plate, but she didn't say anything. I could see her shoulders tense as if she was trying to control her emotions.
"I didn't want to make you feel this way," I continued, stepping a little closer. "I'm sorry if I did. But I want you to know that you're the only one that matters to me now. You're the only one I want to be with. This? This thing that happened in the past-it's over. It doesn't even compare to what I have with you."
She let out a sigh, a long, heavy one, before shaking her head.
"It's not about the past, Sylvia," she said, her voice quiet, but still with a hint of frustration. "I'm not mad because of what happened before we met. I'm mad because of how you keep acting like it doesn't matter. You think I'm just supposed to forget about it every time you kiss me or every time I see something that reminds me of it? It's not just a game to me, you know?"
I winced, but I didn't give up. I knew I had to fix this. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Cynthia. I was stupid, I admit it. But I'm telling you, it's all in the past now. You're the one I care about, okay? You're the one I'm here with. I'm not interested in anything else. Only you."
She didn't turn to face me, but I could see the stiffness in her posture. She was holding herself back, not letting herself give in, no matter how much she probably wanted to. It was frustrating, but I understood. I just had to convince her.
"I'm sorry," I said again, stepping closer, my voice softer now. "I'm sorry for making you feel like you weren't enough. But that's not true. You are enough. You're more than enough."
Pero hindi na niya ako pinansin pa. Hanggang sa makarating kami sa University.
Kakainis, sana nanahimik nalang ako noon pa. 'Di na tuloy ako pinansin. Tapos no more kiss. Sakit sa heart.
:(
I sat there, my gaze fixed on Cynthia at the front of the room, as she moved from one student to the next for the oral recitation.
Everyone else was focused, nervous but preparing for their turn.
I, on the other hand, was trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in my chest.
It wasn't the recitation that had my attention-it was the way Cynthia refused to acknowledge me, like I was invisible.
Her voice was calm and commanding as she called on a student in the second row, "Rodriguez, you're up." I tried not to roll my eyes, but I couldn't help it. I raised my hand again, this time a little higher, a little more insistently.
Rodriguez, as expected, stumbled through his explanation of load distribution in structural engineering, the topic from the test. His voice wavered slightly, but Cynthia seemed pleased with his effort. She nodded and smiled faintly, then moved on to the next person.
"Alright, Zarra, it's your turn."
I kept my hand raised, leaning forward just slightly in my seat, trying to catch Cynthia's eye. I had finished the test, I had answered everything, and now I just wanted her to- look at me. That was it.
Zarra spoke confidently, explaining the concepts of stress and strain in materials science. I didn't know if I was more annoyed by her confident tone or the fact that Cynthia was still completely focused on the student in front of her.
"Good," Cynthia said, her voice smooth and steady. "You've got a good understanding of material behavior under stress, Zarra. Next, let's hear from you, Leo."
I didn't drop my hand. My fingers were starting to ache, but I kept my arm raised, unwavering, as if that alone would make Cynthia notice me. The fact that I hadn't been called on yet was beginning to drive me crazy. It wasn't like I wanted to be a show-off, but this was ridiculous.
Leo went on about the deflection of beams under various loads.
It was all technical talk, and it was all I could do not to zone out.
The sound of his voice blended in with the background noise of the classroom.
I didn't care about his recitation; I was too focused on the fact that Cynthia still hadn't even looked at me.
I leaned forward a little more, making sure she could see my raised hand from the corner of her eye. I even wiggled my fingers slightly, trying to get her attention. Nothing. She continued on, as if I wasn't even here.
"Alright, Leo, good," Cynthia said after a few moments, turning her attention to the next student. "I'll have you focus on the principles of reinforcement next. Now, Ivan, let's go over your answers."
My patience was wearing thin. I was done with sitting quietly, waiting for Cynthia to notice me. If she wasn't going to call on me, I was going to make sure she had no choice.
"I've been raising my hand for a while now," I muttered under my breath, loud enough for only myself to hear.
Ivan, deep in his explanation about structural integrity, didn't seem to notice my small outburst. But Cynthia did. I caught her glancing at me for a brief moment, her expression unreadable. I didn't let it faze me. I was not going to be ignored any longer.
I cleared my throat, louder than I should have, but I didn't care. "Miss?" I called out, raising my hand even higher. The action felt deliberate, almost like I was daring her to finally acknowledge me.
Cynthia's gaze flicked to me, and I saw a brief flicker of something-annoyance Frustration?-before she turned her attention back to Ivan, still explaining how the bending moment would affect the foundation of a structure.
I was about to snap. This was ridiculous. I needed to say something. I wasn't going to just sit here and keep waiting for her to notice me like some wallflower.
"Miss!" I called again, louder this time, practically jumping out of my seat.
Her head snapped toward me again, this time with a sharp, "Yes, Gomez?"
The room fell into an awkward silence. I felt all eyes turn to me, the weight of my raised hand now heavier than ever. My heart was beating in my chest, but I didn't back down. If she wasn't going to call on me like a normal student, then fine. I'd make sure she did.
"I-uh, I just wanted to make sure you saw me," I said, my voice a little shaky but firm. "I've been raising my hand for a while now. I finished the test already. I'm ready for my recitation."
Cynthia's eyes narrowed, a subtle sigh escaping her lips. She didn't speak right away, and I could feel the tension in the air thickening. For a moment, I thought she might ignore me again, but then she gave a small nod and said, "Just next time. Our time is up, let's end the discussion here."
Grabe. Ganyanan na pala. Sakit talaga sa heart, parang hindi lang nagpa-ano sa akin kagabi sa ano-nevermind.
I walked behind her, my heart sinking with each step we took further down the hallway.
The silence between us was suffocating.
She hadn't looked at me once. Her back was straight, her pace unwavering, and it felt like I was walking through the biggest storm, and yet, there was no rain. Just a heavy, unspoken distance that seemed to grow with every footstep.
I tried to take a deep breath, to calm myself, but it didn't work. The tightness in my chest only got worse, and it felt like the space between us was getting wider, no matter how close I stayed behind her. I couldn't believe this was happening.
I couldn't believe how everything had turned so wrong, so quickly.
"Cynthia," I called softly, my voice barely more than a whisper. But it was all I could manage. It was a mix of desperation and sadness, the words heavy in my mouth.
Nothing. She didn't even flinch.
I stepped a little closer, hoping maybe my proximity would get through to her, that maybe, just maybe, she would turn around and look at me. I didn't care about the students still walking around, I didn't care if they saw how pathetic I looked following her like this. I just needed her to hear me.
"I'm sorry," I said, my voice breaking as I said the words. "I'm so sorry, Cynthia."
Still, she didn't stop. Didn't even turn around. It was like I wasn't even there, like I didn't exist to her anymore. And it hurt more than anything else, more than anything we'd argued.
I swallowed hard, blinking back tears, trying to hold it together. I didn't want her to see me like this, but I couldn't help it. The silence between us was unbearable.
"Please, just look at me," I pleaded, my voice trembling now. "Please, Cynthia... Please."
She didn't stop. She kept walking, her steps unhurried, unaffected by my broken words. Each step she took felt like a sharp sting, like she was moving further away from me.
I couldn't understand why she was doing this. What had I done that was so unforgivable? Why couldn't she just let me apologize? I knew she was hurt, I knew I had messed up, but all I wanted was to fix things. Was that so much to ask for?
My heart felt like it was shattering with every second she ignored me. She was so close, and yet I felt so far away from her. The distance between us now felt impossible to cross.
"Cynthia," I whispered again, this time, almost as if saying her name would bring her back to me. "I need you... Please don't shut me out."
But her pace didn't slow. Her eyes stayed ahead, focused on the hallway in front of her. It was like I wasn't even there, like everything I had said to her this morning hadn't mattered at all.
How could I fix this if she wouldn't even give me the chance?
I reached out, my fingers brushing the edge of her clothes, just barely. She didn't react. I was scared to touch her too much, to pull her back to me, but the desire to make her see me, to make her understand how sorry I was, overwhelmed me.
"Please," I said, my voice cracking. "Please, Cynthia. Don't... don't do this. Don't push me away."
Still, nothing. She didn't look at me. She didn't even break her stride.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to beg her to turn around, to talk to me, but I couldn't. My heart felt too heavy, too broken to speak any louder.
"Cynthia..." I whispered again, my voice barely audible. "I miss you."
And then it hit me.
I missed her.
Not the professor, not the woman who stood in front of a classroom and lectured.
I missed Cynthia.
The one who used to hold me, the one who used to laugh with me, the one who would always listen, even when I didn't deserve it. And now she was slipping away, and I had no idea how to stop it.
I didn't know how long I walked behind her, following her footsteps down the hall, hoping that with every step, she might turn around, just once, to say something, anything. But nothing came.
By the time we reached the exit, my legs felt heavy, my chest tight, and my hands were shaking. The hallway seemed longer, emptier. I felt like I was losing her, and there was nothing I could do to fix it.
She pushed open the door to leave, her back still turned. I took one last step forward, my voice barely above a whisper, but still desperate.
"Cynthia... please..."
And then, for the first time, she finally stopped. I felt the air shift, and the tiniest flicker of hope sparked in my chest. She turned her head just slightly, but not enough to meet my eyes. She didn't even fully face me.
"Give me space, please," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "Don't bother me just for now."
Just like that, her words felt like a slap to my face.
It was as if everything I had said and done-everything I had tried to fix-meant nothing.
I stood there, frozen, the world around me suddenly feeling so cold and distant.
My heart shattered, and I could feel the cracks spreading, slowly breaking me into pieces.
"Okay," I whispered, my voice so soft I almost couldn't hear it myself.
I forced a smile.
It wasn't a real smile, just a mask, something I put on because I didn't want to show how badly I was breaking inside.
But the smile felt fake, like I was only fooling myself.
She didn't see it. She didn't notice.
She was already turning away, walking further from me, leaving me in this painful, empty space.
I planned on going to the field to get some fresh air.
It's our vacant period today-two whole hours of nothing to do, and I thought maybe some time alone would help me breathe. As I was about to walk away from the building, holding back the tears that had been threatening to fall since the test ended, I suddenly heard a familiar voice behind me.
"Honey."
It was Ms. Dizon.
Agad ko siyang tinalikuran, wiping quickly at my eyes bago pa niya mapansin.
"Po?" tanging nasagot ko, trying to sound composed kahit ang bigat na ng dibdib ko.
"It's your vacant, right? Can I have your ten minutes?" she asked gently.
I just nodded. Wala naman akong gagawin. Besides, I didn't have the energy to argue or ask why. My heart was already too tired.
Tahimik kaming naglakad palabas ng building, heading toward the parking lot again.
"Come inside, honey. I don't want some students who see us in here spread a fake news," sabi niya, habang binubuksan ang pinto ng kotse.
Pumasok lang ako, quietly sliding into the passenger seat. The car smelled faintly of vanilla and coffee-familiar, comforting, pero ngayon parang nakakailang. The moment I sat down, I felt the awkwardness settle between us like thick fog.
I kept my eyes on my hands, clasped on my lap. Hindi ko alam kung bakit niya ako pinatawag, or kung ano'ng sasabihin niya. And honestly, I wasn't sure if I wanted to know.
As the car door clicked shut, I felt the air shift.
Ms.
Dizon had always been the kind of teacher who radiated an easy confidence, someone who could make everyone feel comfortable in her presence.
But now, sitting beside her in this quiet, parked car, there was something different in the way she was looking at me.
Her smile, usually warm, seemed just a little too focused, too knowing.
She cleared her throat, her eyes flickering to the rearview mirror before she turned to face me. I could feel the tension starting to rise in my chest. Something was coming, and I had no idea what it was.
"Honey," she began, her voice much softer now, almost hesitant. "I know we've had our fair share of moments in class, and I've always tried to make sure you're okay, but there's something I've been meaning to give you. It's... it's important to me, and I think you should have it."
Before I could even process what she was saying, she reached into her bag, pulling out a small, velvet box. My breath caught. It looked too... intimate. Too personal.
She extended the box towards me with a small, almost apologetic smile. "Here. I've had this for a while. It's not much, but it's for you."
I took the box, my fingers trembling just slightly as I opened it.
Inside was a delicate gold necklace, the kind that could be worn every day, simple but beautiful, with a small, heart-shaped pendant.
It glimmered faintly in the low light of the car, and I stared at it for a moment, trying to make sense of the situation.
"Miss. . ."I stammered, my voice unsure. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to accept it, if it was something I should even wear, but I didn't want to be rude. It wasn't like her to give gifts to students, and this felt... different.
Her smile didn't fade, but I could see a flicker of something behind her eyes-nervousness, maybe? She took a deep breath, her gaze never leaving mine.
"I know this might be sudden, but... I've been thinking a lot about you, Sylvia," she said, her voice growing quieter. "I can't keep pretending like these feelings don't exist anymore. I like you. I really like you, hon."
I felt my heart lurch in my chest. I hadn't expected this. Not in a million years.
Her words sank into the air between us, heavy with meaning, and I couldn't breathe for a moment. I was frozen, my mind racing. I tried to find words, tried to find something to say, but everything felt wrong. Her confession had caught me completely off guard. It was... too much. Too intense.
I didn't know how to respond. My mouth felt dry, and my hands suddenly felt clammy. "Ms. Dizon, I-I don't know what to say," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "This is... I don't know if I can... I wasn't expecting this."
She nodded slowly, her expression softening.
"I know, honey. And I'm not expecting anything from you, really. I just... I needed to tell you. You deserve to know. I've always admired you, Sylvia. I've seen how strong you are, how thoughtful. And I can't keep this to myself anymore. I just needed you to know that."
I tried to speak, but my voice cracked. "I'm sorry, Miss. But I can't reciprocate it."
"I know," she said quickly, almost too quickly. "But it doesn't change how I feel. I care about you, Sylvia. I'm not asking you to feel the same. I'm not expecting anything from you. I just wanted to be honest, for once."
I swallowed hard, my mind in chaos.
This was too much.
Too much for me to process.
Her honesty hit me like a wave, but I didn't know how to respond to something like this. Part of me was touched by her vulnerability, the way she was letting me see a side of her that felt real, raw, and painfully human. But another part of me was scared, uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry," I whispered again, giving her back the necklace.
She sighed softly, her eyes downcast for a moment before meeting my gaze again. "I understand if you're not ready to hear this. I really do. I just... I just needed to say it. And I didn't want to leave you wondering why I gave you this."
Her voice had softened, now almost tender, but still filled with an emotion I couldn't quite place. "I know you're going through a lot with... with everything else in your life. I just wanted you to know that I'm here for you, if you ever need someone to talk to. But I won't push you. Not now, not ever."
I wanted to speak, to say something-anything-but I couldn't.
"I appreciate how you feel, Miss," I said, my voice soft but steady. "But I already like someone. I like Cynthia. Miss Sanchez."
I took a deep breath right after I said it. No more hiding. No more dodging. I couldn't keep lying-not to myself, not to anyone. I was willing to tell the whole world if I had to. I like Cynthia, and I'm proud of it.
She looked at me for a long moment, and I couldn't quite read the expression on her face-part sadness, part peace, like she already expected it but still hoped otherwise.
"I know, hon," she finally replied, her tone calm, almost motherly. "I noticed it. I've been watching you since back then. The way you look at her... the way your mood shifts when she's near or when she's not."
She smiled faintly, but her eyes betrayed a quiet ache.
"It's okay. Don't feel guilty for not liking me the same way. I like you for who you are-not because I expected anything in return. I never did. I just... I admired who you truly are."
My heart clenched. I didn't know what to say. It was rare to be seen like that-really seen-by someone. Even rarer when that someone was willing to let go without bitterness.
She looked out the windshield and added, "Sometimes, we meet people we grow to care about deeply, even if it's not meant to be. And that's okay. What matters is we love them well, even if silently."