28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Over The Skies
SAL
They had arrived at the Mactan-Cebu International Airport with just an hour to spare, which gave them just enough time to have a light breakfast before they got on the plane.
Rafa and Sal helped themselves to sandwiches and coffee, while Theola and Willow had some ensaymada and other pastries with their coffee.
“I swear I will make ensaymadas when I get back home. These babies will definitely sell,” Willow said, munching on one.
They all laughed and listened to Willow as she explained how much she loved ensaymada and what she’d add to make them her own. Then she stopped and looked over Sal’s shoulder. “W-Wait…” she said, looking surprised.
Sal followed the direction of Willow’s gaze. Baron and Harmon were walking together rather briskly, wearing dark coats while pulling their black luggage. For a moment, Sal felt like she had entered a K-Drama.
Sal faced forward and attempted to cover her face. But it was too late; by the time she turned away, Harmon and Baron had seen them.
“Hey, Willow.” Baron smiled warmly at the redhead. “It looks like we’re on the same flight back to Manila.”
Willow just nodded and took a sip of her coffee.
“But weren’t you guys going to Davao next?” Theola asked.
Sal saw Harmon look at her momentarily and then at Rafa. He let out an exasperated sigh after eyeing his watch, then walked away, awkwardly leaving them with Baron.
“Well, Mr. Moon changed plans suddenly. He canceled Davao after I told him you guys weren’t going,” Baron said rather hurriedly, looking back at Harmon, “E-excuse me.” He ran after his boss with their luggage, leaving them all in an awkward silence.
Sal jutted her lip to the side in annoyance and looked at Willow, who gave an apologetic look in return.
There was a momentary silence after Baron followed Harmon.
“Well, that was awkward,” Rafa said. He placed his hand on Sal’s knee.
A pang of guilt hit her. Did he notice how uncomfortable she was just now?
She still hadn’t processed her kiss with Harmon.
She wanted to tell Rafa, but then he had gone through so much and traveled so far to see her and support her.
How could she tell him? She couldn’t bear to hurt him.
Yet Harmon awakened something in her. A curiosity she didn’t know existed.
She was always so controlled, so measured, and just so…
good her entire life; but then Harmon came along with his porcelain skin, his jet-black hair, and those eyes.
“We’re going to board in fifteen. At least we don’t have to tell them about not going to Davao anymore,” Theola said.
Sal bit her lip and let out a sigh. Sure, she thought, hoping that Theola’s optimism was accurate.
***
Sal sat in the window seat at the back of the cockpit behind everyone else and apart from Rafa. When Rafa asked to be seated next to her, the lady at the check-in counter apologized politely and said, “Sir, all our seats have been pre-booked.”
It was fine. The flight was only an hour and thirty minutes. So she would, as she had many times before, sit quietly in her window seat and escape into the pages of a book. She buried her face in her latest read, hoping she could drown out the world if she could.
She watched as Willow, Theola, and then Rafa sat in the rows in front. Rafa looked back at her and gave her a grin as he sat. Then, she saw Harmon—it was impossible not to. Clad in all black, he moved steadily down the aisle.
Sal tried to distract herself with her book, but it was no use. Harmon stopped just at her row and asked the person in the aisle seat, “Excuse me, sir.” The person stood up to make way for him to take his seat.
He’s next to me? She thought in shock. What were the odds? She closed her book and placed it on her lap, expecting an explanation. By the looks of the wry grin he flashed her, he already knew she was expecting it.
“Relax, I traded seats with the person seated next to you. He’s now comfortably seated in the front with extra legroom and complimentary snacks,” he said as he adjusted his light jacket and clipped his seatbelt.
Sal closed her eyes as though willing herself to think clearly. “Why?” she asked and then faced him.
Harmon looked at her, appearing annoyed at her question. “For one, you didn’t tell me about Taal,” he said in a stern tone.
“We were going to update you as soon as we landed in Manila,” Sal responded with some reserve.
Harmon nodded, still looking annoyed. “Yes, so by the time we arrived at Davao, you’d be in Manila already making plans at Taal.” He huffed, running a hand through his hair, and looked away from her.
Was he expressing how hurt he was? The nearly impenetrable Harmon Moon, upset over information she had withheld? Or was this about something else? When he didn’t look back, she went back to her book, thinking he needed time to cool down.
Just as she was at the part where the main character met a handsome man, Harmon spoke again, his irritated tone no longer present. “I’m not surprised you read classics.”
She closed her book, placed it on her lap, and gave him a look. “I really didn’t think not telling you about Taal and Davao would upset you,” she said, not wanting to let the issue drag on.
Harmon nodded and breathed deeply in response. “Tell me why you love reading the classics, then?”
“Classics are my thing. They remind me of how impactful a person’s words can be even after death.
In a way, art has that effect too.” Having grieved Claire’s death and visiting past wounds, Sal couldn’t help but reflect on how temporary life was.
Retreating to old books by late authors reminded her of one thing: that books were immortal.
They held the written words of their makers and offered a way for their creators to live on beyond their time.
Harmon nodded. “That’s why I collect and curate art for a living and read books on the side. I look at the story behind them. Not just their value,”
“Is that related somehow to your interest in the Art Cards from Nowhere collection?”
Harmon raised a brow and cracked a half-smile.
“When I found out Claire died, I learned about the inheritance, and I got so upset about it—old wounds,” he said.
“But seeing her work exhibited after all these years made me grieve for the sister I never knew. So…I wasn’t trying to lure you by buying them.
Deep down, perhaps I thought it would be nice having Claire somewhere in my life. ”
Sal felt tears coming but closed her eyes and told herself not to cry.
The privilege of knowing and loving Claire her entire life was something she had taken for granted.
Harmon’s loneliness became so real. “Well…” she said, her voice cracking.
“If you had told me that the first time, I would have sold you the paintings—just not Autumn Town though.”
Harmon chortled and gave her a full smile for the first time since sitting beside her. Her heart melted at the sight of it and realized she had cheered him up. She grinned back at him.
Harmon paused for a moment, eyes still locked on hers, as if measuring the weight of what he was going to say next. “Sal…” he began. He reached for her hand and slowly motioned to hold it.
Sal accepted his touch with no resistance. “Yes?” she asked, half-nervous, half-curious to hear what he had to say.
“I’m not good at expressing myself to others,” he said under his breath. “But somehow with you, I feel everything, and I…feel safe telling you everything. I’ve always been certain of what I want. But getting to know you makes me question a lot of things.”
Sal didn’t know what to say except, “What’s gotten you thinking?”
“Like maybe you were right. If Claire knew who I was to her, maybe she would have helped me.” He exhaled, and then turning to Sal, he said, “Maybe I’ve been chasing the wrong thing all this time.
” His eyes locked on hers, and she felt a force draw her in again.
“Maybe what’s worth chasing has been right in front of me all along. ”
Sal’s heart pounded. Their faces were so close that just a few inches closer, and their lips would meet.
Memories of when their lips first touched flooded her mind.
The electricity, the longing, and the hunger rose again.
She had to stop herself. “Harmon,” she whispered. “That kiss was an…accident.”
“No, it wasn’t, Sal. Not to me,” he said, never breaking eye contact.
“We were in the heat of the moment…” she said, almost sounding like she was also convincing herself that it didn’t matter. “You were vulnerable, and I was so moved by it…but it was a mistake.” It sounded like she was reciting something rehearsed and unnatural.
Harmon clasped her hand. “Then you’re the kind of mistake I’d do over again, and again, and again. I can’t stop thinking about that night.”
She held her breath as her heart caught in her throat.
“Whether or not you realize it, you pull at me with no restraint,” Harmon said quietly. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel it too?”
It was true. They were undeniably drawn to each other.
It was unlike what she had with Rafa. Her love for Rafa blossomed from slow and steady moments of companionship and shared attraction, while their love was immediate and impulsive but all-encompassing.
But Rafa, her Rafa—she wouldn’t do this to him.
“Harmon—”
“I know that you’ve seen your share of hardship, and that you saw all of it in me too that night, but you didn’t look away. And when I kissed you, I felt the storm inside me finally quell.”
“Harmon, I’m sorry,” she said, her body betraying her, tears forming in her eyes. “But I can’t.”
“You can’t or you won’t?”
Silence stood between them, like a barrier that would come down if Sal allowed it. So she took a deep breath, thought about Rafa, and replied, “I love him too much.”
Harmon closed his eyes, faced front, and said, “But I love you too.”
“You can’t love me,” Sal responded. “We can’t.” For the rest of the flight, Sal just looked out her window and tried to hold back her tears.