Chapter 54
Sunday Morning
"Why are you here?" she asked, clearly surprised.
There I was, already inside her house, standing in the middle of the living room.
She was sitting on the couch in a loose oversized sleep shirt, her hair up in a messy bun, papers scattered across the coffee table.
Her eyes were still puffy from sleep, blinking at me like she couldn't quite tell if I was real.
"I miss you. Am I not allowed to be here?" I said, stepping closer.
She relaxed a little. "No, of course you are. You're always welcome here. I just wish you told me. I'm a total mess right now. I literally just woke up."
I smiled as I took in the sight of her-bare-faced, sleepy, glowing in the soft morning light filtering through the curtains.
"You look even more beautiful like this," I said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Good morning, Miss Gorgeous."
She rolled her eyes but I caught the way her lips curled into a smile.
"Did you eat before coming here?" she asked, raising a brow.
"Not yet," I said, grinning like a kid caught sneaking candy.
She let out a deep sigh, half-exasperated, half-affectionate. "You're so stubborn sometimes."
She stood up, brushing her hands on her shirt. "Let me make you some breakfast."
But before she could walk away, I gently grabbed her hand and pulled her back down-this time onto my lap. She gave a surprised squeal, then a half-laugh as she landed against my chest.
"Oh my God, let me go! I have to cook breakfast, love," she said, trying to get up.
Hearing her call me love, parang gusto nang kumawala ng puso ko.
But I wrapped my arms around her waist and buried my face into her neck.
"I missed you," I whispered against her skin. "I don't need breakfast if I already have you."
She let out a laugh and playfully smacked my thigh. "You're so cheesy."
"But you love me," I murmured.
"Unfortunately, I do," she said with a groan, but I could feel her smile as she leaned into me just a bit more.
We stayed like that for a while-quiet, breathing in sync, warm in each other's presence. Her back rested against my chest, our hands loosely intertwined over her stomach. Outside, the world was already moving, but in here, time felt like it paused for just the two of us.
Eventually, she stirred. "Okay, okay. Enough. You're hungry, and I need to cook."
She kissed my forehead before gently slipping off my lap and walking toward the kitchen.
Of course, being the chaotic little menace that I am, I followed her. I stood behind her at the counter, wrapping my arms around her waist again and resting my chin on her shoulder while she pulled out the eggs and bread.
"You're so clingy today," she said, amused.
"Maybe I just really missed you," I replied, pressing a soft kiss to her neck.
She didn't push me away. She just kept working, quietly letting me hold her as she cooked.
While she was prepping the eggs and hotdogs on the stove, I kept my arms wrapped around her waist, my chin resting lazily on her shoulder.
"If I were a hotdog, would you cook me with this much love and care?" I asked in a sleepy, teasing voice.
She didn't even look at me. "If you were a hotdog, I'd probably drop you on the floor and feed you to a stray cat."
I gasped dramatically. "That's so rude. I'm literally your girlfriend."
She smirked and flipped the egg. "You started it. Don't come for me with cheesy lines before breakfast."
"You love the cheesiness," I murmured, pressing a small kiss to her shoulder. "Admit it."
"I love you. The cheesiness is just... part of the unfortunate package."
I chuckled and tightened my hold around her. "I'll take it. As long as I get breakfast and affection."
"You're getting both. Lucky you," she said, carefully plating the food like she was presenting it to Gordon Ramsay. "Come on. Let's eat."
We brought the plates to the dining table-two plates, two mugs of coffee, and a tiny bowl of ketchup that she insists on for hotdogs even though she never really dips them.
"Thanks for cooking," I said, already scooping a bite of egg into my mouth. "This is gourmet."
She laughed softly. "Don't overhype it. It's just hotdog and egg."
"Still. You made it. Therefore, five stars."
She shook her head but smiled, finally relaxing in her seat across from me.
For a while, we just ate in silence, the kind that felt easy, safe. Our legs brushed under the table, and I let mine stay there against hers.
After finishing eating, she said she have a meeting kaya hinatid na ako nito sa bahay. Everything happens so fast, hanggang sa I found myself left in my room again. I miss her.
"Via, can you go to manang in the grocery? Our driver isn't replying, and manang is alone." my Ate said kaya tumango ako and got up.
I grabbed my keys and headed out, still a little full from breakfast but mostly just floating in that dazed, post-Cynthia haze. You know that feeling? Like you just got hugged so good your soul is wearing a blanket? Yeah. That.
The sky was soft and gray, not raining, but threatening to. I didn't mind. I had my hoodie on.
I parked near the entrance and messaged her: "Nandito na po ako, Manang. Nasaan kana po?"
I waited inside the car for a minute. Then another.
Then I got out, stretched a little, and started scanning for her face in the crowd near the exit. That's when I saw her-brown grocery bags in hand, mask slightly slipping off her nose, struggling to carry everything on her own.
"Manang!" I waved and jogged toward her, grabbing the heavier bags before she could argue.
"Diyos ko, salamat, hija," she panted. "Hindi na talaga bagay sa akin 'tong mabibigat. 'Yung driver ba natin, may sakit ba?"
"Di ko rin alam. Sabi ni Ate, hindi raw nagrereply. Let's just go. I'll carry everything."
She chuckled and patted my back. "Napaka-bait mo talaga."
We were halfway to the car when it happened.
From the corner of my eye, I saw them.
Cynthia.
And Theo.
She was standing by the coffee stall just a few steps away. Theo was handing her a drink-her favorite, I knew it by the cup. That specific mix only she ordered. Familiar.
Like they did this all the time.
My legs kept walking, but my mind? It hit a wall.
Everything slowed down.
Manang was still talking beside me, I think, but I couldn't hear her over the white noise in my ears. My eyes were locked on Cynthia. She hadn't seen me yet.
The sting was instant. Like biting into ice and realizing too late your tooth was cracked.
I didn't stop walking. I couldn't. I got Manang into the car, packed the groceries into the trunk with autopilot hands.
Monday
"Hi, good morning. I brought you coffee," I said, forcing a smile as I handed her the cup.
I was standing at the doorway of her house again-something that had become part of my routine lately. She was already dressed, her makeup done, bag ready, like she was heading out somewhere important.
"You're here again. By the way, thank you," she said casually, pressing a soft kiss on my cheek before taking the cup. Her warmth still made me weak in the knees, even if I was slowly freezing inside.
"Are you going somewhere today?" I asked, settling down on the couch like I always do-trying to look comfortable, even though my chest felt tight.
"Yeah, I have to work on some important documents. Deadline's coming up," she replied with a practiced smile.
I nodded slowly, then bit my lip. I knew I shouldn't push, but I couldn't help it.
"How was the meeting yesterday?" I asked, trying to sound neutral. Please tell me the truth.
"It went fine. Everything went smoothly," she answered almost too quickly. Something in me cracked. She was lying again-I could feel it in my gut. And yet, I said nothing.
"That's good," I said. Then I hesitated for a moment before looking her in the eyes. "By the way, how are things between you and Theo? Does he know... about us?"
"Not yet," she replied, and I watched her shift her gaze away from mine. "I can't tell him yet. His family situation is complicated. But I promise I'll fix this soon, okay?"
She sat beside me and gently took my hand.
"Are you still meeting with him?" I asked before I could stop myself.
She furrowed her brows. "Hmm? No. Why do you keep asking me that?"
I forced another smile. "Nothing."
She cupped my face, looked me in the eyes. "Are you overthinking again? Stop. You know I only want you, right?" She kissed my forehead, and for a moment, I wanted to believe her.
"I miss you so much. Sobra na talaga," I said, trying to forget what I saw. My love is far more than just what I feel-it's overflowing, painful, and real.
Cynthia didn't speak right away. She just looked at me, quiet, her eyes softening as she reached out and pulled me into her arms.
"I missed you too," she whispered, her breath warm against my ear. "So much."
She guided me gently to lie down with her on the couch, letting my head rest on her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around me. Her fingers moved through my hair, slow and comforting.
"Do you have any idea how much I love you, love?" she murmured. "You're in my thoughts every second of the day. Everything I do... I think of you."
I stayed silent, clinging to her shirt, my chest tightening. Ang dami kong gustong itanong. Gusto kong sumigaw. Gusto kong umiyak. Pero hinayaan ko muna sarili kong maramdaman siya.
Cynthia lifted my chin gently, her eyes meeting mine. "You drive me crazy in the best way. Your laugh, your voice, the way you get me annoyed over the tiniest things-God, I love all of it."
I let out a shaky breath. "Bakit mo 'ko mahal?"
"Because you make everything brighter," she said, her tone soft but certain. "You make me feel things I didn't think I could feel anymore. When I'm with you, I feel alive."
She kissed my forehead, then my nose, then hovered close, brushing her lips against mine. "You're beautiful, Sylvia. Inside and out. You're the best part of my life."
My heart ached at her words, but in a good way-like I'd been waiting to hear them for so long and now they were finally here.
Cynthia smiled, a little sad, a little in love. "You're all I want. You always have been."
She kissed me again-soft, slow, like she was pouring all her love into me. I kissed her back, eyes closed, trying to forget everything else. Sa sandaling 'to, ako lang. Kami lang.
And for now, that was enough.
After that, she walked me to the door and sent me off like usual. I wanted to trust her-God, I wanted to so badly. But her words no longer matched her actions. So, for the first time, I did something I never thought I would.
I followed her.
I kept a distance, driving quietly behind her. She parked in a quiet area and got out. And just as I feared... she met up with him. Again.
When I saw them, parang sinaksak ako ng kutsilyo na paulit-ulit pang iniikot sa loob ko.
Tuesday
"I missed you. Is everything okay?" I asked as I wrapped my arms around her from behind. She was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast like everything was normal.
"Of course. I have you here with me," she replied with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. I smiled too, but it was bitter, laced with the ache that had been building inside me.
"I love you," I whispered.
She didn't answer right away. She was too focused on flipping something in the pan. I waited.
"Do you... still love me?" I finally asked.
"Of course I do, silly. Stop asking me that. My love for you hasn't changed." She chuckled lightly and nudged me with her elbow.
I let go of the hug.
"Mhm. Okay. I'll just sit on the couch then," I muttered.
"Sure," she said. "And by the way... I have to go later because..."
And there it was again-that same excuse.
Wednesday
"By the way... I have to go later because..."
Thursday
"By the way... I have to go later because..."
Friday
"By the way... I have to go later because..."
It was always something. An errand. A document. A meeting. But deep down, I knew what it really meant. It meant she was meeting him again.
I wanted to confront her. I wanted to scream, to ask why, to demand answers. But I was scared. I was so, so scared that if I heard the truth from her lips, she'd leave me for good. And I wasn't ready for that-not yet.
So I chose silence. I chose to blindfold myself to the truth, even if it meant being played for a fool right in front of my own eyes.
Saturday
"By the way... I have to go later because..."
"Is that really important?" I asked gently, holding her hand across the breakfast table. "You've been out almost every day this week. You deserve to rest, even just today."
"It is important. I really need to finish this. Please understand," she replied, squeezing my hand lightly before pulling away.
Of course I'll understand. I always understand her.
I stood and walked over to her, pulling her into an embrace.
"Can we just stay like this? Just for ten minutes? I miss you," I whispered. I didn't even realize my tears were falling until I felt one land on her shoulder. Thankfully, she didn't notice.
"I can't. I really need to go. But I'll make time for you soon," she said, gently detaching herself from me.
My arms dropped to my sides, and my heart followed.
"Do you still love me?" I asked again, even though I already knew the answer.
She looked at me briefly and said, "The answer is obvious."
Then she walked away. Again.
I don't know where we went wrong. I don't know when she stopped choosing me. All I know is that the woman who used to hug me so tightly, kiss me in the middle of her sentences, and whisper reassurance into the spaces between our days-she's not here anymore.
She's changed. And maybe, just maybe, I'm the only one still holding on to what we used to be.
---
It's Sunday. I'm here in my room, just lying on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling while the fan spins lazily above me.
Tomorrow, we'll start our practice for graduation-something I should probably be excited about. But honestly? Wala akong gana. I've been feeling like I'm slowly drifting away from myself lately. Everything feels dull. Heavy. It's like something's missing deep inside me, and the worst part is... I know exactly who took it with her.
I didn't go to her place today. She messaged me earlier, telling me not to come over because she "wasn't home." Her message was short, almost cold. I didn't argue. I just stared at the screen for a long time before setting my phone down like it burned to touch it.
I tried to distract myself-scrolling endlessly through Facebook, trying to fill the silence, trying not to think. But just when I thought I could maybe numb the ache a little, I saw something that tore through me like glass.
A fan page. Cyntheo Shippers.
At first, I hesitated. My heart dropped the moment I saw the name. Every part of me screamed not to click, not to look, not to go through the pain. But I opened it anyway. Curiosity? Or maybe just the part of me still desperate to understand.
It was a new post. Two hours ago.
"Omg, look who I found at the coffee shop today! They are clearly still in love. Bagay talaga!"
That was the caption.
Then the photo loaded.
It was Cynthia and Theo. Sitting across from each other at a table.
But what shattered me wasn't just the image of them together.
It was the way Theo was holding Cynthia's hands. Gently. Softly. Above the table. No hesitation. No guilt.
That's when I felt everything inside me break.
Everything I cherished-every laugh, every kiss, every secret we shared-it all just vanished. Like it never happened. Like I never mattered.
I didn't even realize I was crying until I tasted the salt on my lips. Silent, aching sobs that came from somewhere deep and tired. I kept asking myself over and over: Saan ako nagkulang? What did I do wrong?
I gave her everything. Every part of me. I never got tired of loving her, not for a single moment. She deserved it-she still does. But why do I have to be the one left behind, picking up the pieces of something I didn't even break?
Then I did something stupid.
I messaged her.
Hi, love. Are you busy? Can I go to your house later? I miss you. So bad.
It took a few minutes before she replied.
I'll be back home at 6. Still busy at work. See you later.
And just like that, I couldn't stop crying again.
Work? She said she was working.
But I clearly saw her-with him.
Holding his hands. Smiling that soft smile I used to think was just for me.
Why lie?
Why pretend?
I don't know what hurts more-seeing the truth with my own eyes or hearing her deny it like it never happened.
I miss her. I miss us.
But now, I'm starting to realize... maybe the person I miss doesn't exist anymore.
And yet here I am, still waiting for 6 PM.
Still hoping she'll look me in the eyes and tell me it was all a misunderstanding.
"Via. Are you still awake? Have breakfast." I heard my Ate voice. I didn't answer, and I heard her opening my door. I forgot to close it.
"Are you sick?" she asked, at nakatalikod ako sakanya. Then I felt her hands, touching my neck.
"You're hot. Wait, are you crying?"
I shook my head.
"You're definitely crying. It's about her, right? You don't usually cry, Via." her voice full of concern, but mix with something else.
"I'm okay, Ate." sabi ko, still sobbing.
"Have some breakfast, and take your medicine. You're boiling, Via." she let a deep sighed.
"I don't have the energy, Ate. I want to sleep."
"Stop being stubborn. I don't know what happened but don't let it affect you. Sometimes, we need to accept things that are not for us."
My Ate sighed again, longer this time, like she was holding back more than just words.
"I'm not going to push you," she said quietly, standing up from the bed. "But you can't keep doing this to yourself, Via. Whatever it is you're holding in, it's eating you alive."
I didn't move. My face was pressed into my pillow, damp and warm. I was exhausted from crying but too full of it to stop.
"You don't have to talk to me," she continued. "I get it. But I need you to take care of yourself, even if it's just a little. You matter more than whoever made you feel this way."
I clenched my blanket tighter.
She walked to my desk and began rearranging things with a gentle clatter. A few moments later, I smelled food-she had brought something in. I heard the soft thud of a mug being placed on the table too.
"I made you chamomile tea and oatmeal," she said. "Just a few bites. You don't even have to leave the bed."
Still, I didn't look.
She stood up again and walked toward the door. "I'll leave the tray here. Eat a little when you're ready."
She opened the door but turned back before stepping out.
"Let her go, Via," she said, not unkindly. "Not because she deserves it-but because you do."
And then she left, quietly closing the door behind her.
The silence rushed in again, but this time it felt less suffocating. I sat up slowly, head pounding, and reached for the tea. My hands were trembling, but I held on.
I took a sip. It was slightly too sweet. Just like how Ate used to make it when I was sick in high school and didn't want to take medicine.
I looked at the oatmeal next. I didn't want it. Not really. But I scooped a small bite anyway and forced myself to swallow. It settled heavy in my stomach.
I leaned back against my pillows and stared at my phone lying screen-down on the mattress.
Still waiting for 6 PM.
Still hoping for something I wasn't sure I'd survive hearing.
But for now, just for a while, I let myself breathe.
---
It was 6 PM.
I was sitting in the car, staring at the familiar street outside Cynthia's house. The light from the streetlamp flickered gently in the growing darkness, casting a soft, almost romantic glow over everything. But I felt none of it. My stomach twisted into knots, and my hands were cold, even though the air was warm.
I walked up to her door, my fingers grazing the cold brass handle before I knocked softly. It felt weird, like I was intruding. But that was nothing new, was it? Nothing had felt familiar in weeks.
When she didn't answer right away, I pushed the door open slowly. The house was quiet, the faint sound of the TV in the living room humming softly. My eyes wandered to the couch, and my heart seemed to stop.
There she was.
Cynthia. Sleeping soundly on the couch, her legs curled beneath her, her long hair tangled over her face in a messy halo. It was the kind of peacefulness I hadn't seen in her in days. She was completely still, her chest rising and falling in soft, even breaths.
The ache in my chest deepened. I wanted to hate her for making me feel like this, for making me feel so small, but seeing her like this made it impossible.
I took a hesitant step forward, unsure if I should wake her or let her sleep. I hadn't even made it halfway into the living room before she stirred, her face scrunching up, eyes fluttering open as if she sensed someone was there.
When her eyes met mine, everything inside me froze.
For a moment, she didn't say anything. She just blinked, looking confused, as if trying to piece together the reality of the moment. Her eyes softened, but there was something about the way she looked at me-too careful, too guarded-that made the air between us thick with unspoken words.
"Love?" she murmured, her voice hoarse from sleep.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I wanted to ask her everything-the questions I'd been carrying around for days, the ones that kept me up at night, the ones that made me feel like I was losing my mind. But instead, I just stood there, frozen.
Cynthia sat up, stretching her arms above her head, her eyes still blurry with sleep. I could see the faint traces of exhaustion on her face-the kind that didn't come from just a long day of work, but from something deeper. Something that I didn't understand.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, rubbing her eyes. "I must've dozed off. I didn't hear you knock."
I nodded, still not trusting my voice, my heart pounding in my chest. She looked at me again, her expression uncertain, like she was waiting for something. Waiting for me to say something.
But what was I supposed to say? After everything?
"How was work?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. The words felt foreign in my mouth, too calm for what I was feeling.
She hesitated, glancing away, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "It was fine," she replied, her tone distant. "I'm sorry I didn't message you earlier. Things got... busy."
The words felt empty. Too rehearsed. She wasn't looking at me, and I couldn't figure out why that hurt so much.
I sat down carefully on the edge of the coffee table, my eyes still on her as she avoided my gaze. The distance between us felt suffocating, but I didn't know how to close it. It was like she was here, but so far away.
I forced myself to breathe, keeping my voice steady, even when everything inside me screamed for answers. "How are you, really?" I asked, my words coming out softer than I intended. "You look... different. You're not the same lately."
"I've just been tired, I guess," she said, still not meeting my eyes. "Busy with a lot of stuff... work,... all that."
But there was something about the way she said it-like the words were empty, rehearsed. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it. The Cynthia I knew didn't avoid my eyes when she was upset. The Cynthia I knew wasn't distant like this.
"You sure?" I asked quietly. "You look like you're carrying something heavy. You don't have to pretend with me, you know that, right?"
At this, she finally met my eyes, and for a split second, there was a flicker of something-regret, maybe? Guilt? She quickly looked away again, her face falling back into that unreadable mask. "I'm fine, Syl. I really am," she murmured, but the words sounded hollow.
I could feel my heart sinking deeper. She wasn't telling me something. I had to know what. I couldn't just pretend everything was fine when it clearly wasn't.
"Do you still love me? Did you ever love me?" I asked again, unable to stop myself. My voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried all the pain I've been holding back.
She looked at me, her expression calm-but I couldn't feel her anymore. The warmth in her eyes was gone. The love I used to see wasn't there.
"I do. I've always been in love with you," she said gently.
But it didn't feel real.
"Mas mahal kita." I forced a smile. A bitter one. The kind you wear when everything's falling apart and you're just pretending you're okay.
"I love you. I gave you everything. Even myself-emotionally. I never regretted loving you. I still love you and I don't think I'll ever stop. Mahal na mahal kita, sobra. I would sacrifice everything just to be with you. But tell me... would you do the same for me?"
She stayed silent.
"Syl-"
"I saw you," I interrupted her, my voice sharp and trembling. "With Theo. You said you had work earlier, but I saw the picture-he was holding your hand. Was that still part of the act?"
She hesitated, like she didn't know what to say. That hesitation alone felt like a stab to my chest.
"Sylvia... Let me explain. It was just for show. We were in public. I'm sorry I lied to you."
"It's okay... That was just today, right? You just saw him again today?" I asked, still trying to believe her. To hold on to something.
She nodded.
"Really?" I asked, my tears falling faster now. "When will you stop lying to me? Until when are you going to make me look like a fool? You've been seeing him since last week. Please stop lying. I'm hurting."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," she whispered, her voice cracking.
"You didn't have to lie. You could've just told me the truth. I would've understood... Maybe not easily, but I would've respected you for being honest. But why did you choose to hurt me in the most painful way possible?"
My voice was shaking. I couldn't even wipe my tears anymore-they just kept falling.
Then she said it.
"I love him."
"W-what?" My whole body froze.
"I love him, Syl. Yes, it started as an act, but somewhere along the way... I started falling for him. I didn't mean to. I didn't even want to admit it to myself. But the truth is... being with you reminded me of him. Not the other way around."
"Why?" I asked, breathless. "Please tell me you're lying. Please, take it back."
"I's the truth."
"No... You love me. We loved each other. You're just confused. You don't mean that. Please, don't say that. Take it back."
She looked away. And in that silence, I knew I lost her.
Then, finally, she said it.
"Let's break up."
"No," I whispered, shaking my head as my entire world started to crumble. "You... you can't be serious. You can't just break up with me. You love me. You said you loved me."
I was searching her face for any sign of hesitation, kahit isang maliit na senyales lang na nagsisinungaling siya, na hindi totoo 'yung lahat ng sinasabi niya ngayon. But she looked so calm. Too calm.
She took a deep breath, as if the words were heavy in her chest. Then she said them anyway-like they didn't matter.
"I never loved you. Looking at you... disgusts me." Her voice was sharp. Cold. Like a blade slicing straight through my heart.
"W-what?" I managed to say, stunned, almost breathless.
"This was all a game for you, right? Making people fall in love with you-just a game. Well guess what? I was playing, too." she continued, and with every word, it felt like pieces of me were breaking apart.
Parang nadurog 'yung buong pagkatao ko. Everything I believed in. Everything I thought we were. Lahat.
"Being with you... it disgusts me. Being with a girl like you? No. I only like men. And I would never want to be with someone like you."
Mas lalong lumakas ang pag-agos ng luha ko. I didn't even try to wipe them away. I was frozen. Hurt. Lost.
"Was that all just an act to you? Since the beginning? Because to me... it felt real," I asked, my voice barely holding together.
She shrugged, her expression still cold. "Yes. It was. Do you seriously think I could ever fall for someone like you? Really? Just hate me, I don't care. You should."
I don't know what happened next. I just... dropped to my knees. I didn't care anymore. My pride, my dignity-it all disappeared.
"I'm sorry," I sobbed. "I shouldn't have brought up you and Theo. I should've respected you. I should've understood. I shouldn't have made it a big deal. Please... don't leave me."
Then, the words I never thought I'd say-never imagined I'd be desperate enough to say-slipped from my mouth.
"I'm begging you. Love... please. Don't leave me like this. Say it was all a lie. Tell me you love me. Mhm? Cynthia... my love. Please." My voice broke completely. I was a mess-crying, pleading, shaking.
But her eyes? Her face? Still the same. Cold. Empty.
"Stop being pathetic, Sylvia," she said with a scoff. "None of it was a lie. I hate you. I hate everything about you."
?"Stay with me, please. Handa akong magpakatanga, manatili ka lang sa tabi ko," I whispered, my voice cracking, every word dripping with desperation.
"Hindi ko kaya 'to... hindi ko kaya 'to nang wala ka. Please, Cynthia... please."
?
?She stood there for a second.
Silent.
Still.
And then, slowly, she shook her head.
?
?"If you really love me..." Cynthia's voice came out soft but final, like she had rehearsed these words a hundred times in her head. "Let me go."
?
?Her voice cracked, just a bit, and her eyes glistened.
?"Stop making this harder than it already is," she said, backing away.
"I don't love you, Sylvia. Please... just let me go."
?
?I froze. I wanted to scream at her-liar. I wanted to shake her, to ask how she could forget everything we had, everything we built. But my body couldn't move. My mind couldn't catch up with my heart that was already in pieces on the floor.
?
?I watched her turn her back on me. Each step she took toward the door felt like a knife twisting deeper into my chest.
?
?That night, we were both begging.
?
?I was begging for her to stay.
She was begging for me to let her go.
?
?And somehow, that was the cruelest part of it all-we were both in pain, both crying, both wanting something so badly, but not the same thing.
We loved each other, but we wanted different kinds of freedom.
?
?And I was left kneeling there, in the quiet, with nothing but my shattered heart and the echo of her footsteps fading into the night.
?
?