37. Chapter Thirty-Seven #2
She could see him searching the crowd for her; first among the people from below, and then when he looked up at the balcony, almost instantly, he found her—like they were two magnets that would find each other no matter where they went.
From across the distance, he caught her eye and let a warm grin spread across his face, dimples settling at the corners.
In the crowd, Sal answered with a smile of her own, dipping her head in acknowledgment.
For a short while, Harmon simply stood there, measuring his audience.
Then, at last, he began. “Many of you don’t know this, but my father was Filipino,” he revealed, and the hall erupted in whispers.
Sal leaned over the railing and listened keenly as he continued.
“I didn’t know him well as I grew older, but I feel the influence of his blood within me, and it called me to the Philippines.
” He paused and locked eyes with Sal again.
“I believe all of us are mosaics of every person who has touched our lives. Every act of kindness made us, every injustice we witnessed deeply cut us, every dream fully realized fueled us, and each time, we gather to celebrate not what differs between us, but what binds us.”
“Art is a language that knows no barriers. It speaks to everyone and is the most universal form of expression. At the Midnight Masters, I celebrate my Filipino and Korean roots and all the influences that made me, a boy of little means, into the man who today fluently speaks a universal language. A language of the arts, from masters locally to masters globally. And to the people fueled by their inspiration, welcome. I hope you all enjoy.” He bowed, paying homage to his Korean roots, and riotous applause came forth.
“This is his best show yet!” enthused one of the artgoers.
It was impossible not to get caught up in his speech and feel overwhelmed by it all.
Then a familiar and warm presence came to stand next to her. “Pretty good speech.” She turned to see Rafa. He leaned over the railing and smiled at her with the same wry grin she knew so well. “But of course, I’m biased, Sal. No one can best you.”
Her heart felt split in two. Sal blinked away tears at the realization that she missed him, that her heart longed for his stable and grounding energy too.
Harmon was pure vibration, caprice, and seduction, but Rafa was all stillness.
The ballroom lit up with warm lights as the orchestra resounded through the massive hall.
“Let’s dance?” he asked, offering his hand.
Sal rested her fingers in his palms and felt an immeasurable sense of comfort, followed by a stabbing pain in her gut, realizing that this comfort would not last. She was going to break his heart.
It was impossible to shake the feeling that she’d just given up everything for Harmon under a ceiling of stars. How dreadful, and how elating, it was to feel all this love in these hallowed spaces.
RAFA
Rafa escorted Sal to the lower ballroom. He guided Sal’s hand into his own as he gently rested his other hand on her waist. “Don’t worry,” he said, knowing she disliked dancing, “just follow my lead.” And so, off they went, dancing casually amid a sea of waltzing artgoers.
“How did you get an invitation?” Sal asked.
“I have a few family friends who gave up theirs. Being a nepo baby has its perks,” he jested, raising a brow.
Sal laughed alongside him. “Finally, you’re admitting it?” She giggled.
Rafa twirled her around and held her close again. “Only with you.” He grinned, eyeing her tenderly, and rested his head lightly against hers. “You’re a vision, and I’ve missed you.”
Sal pulled herself away as they waltzed and looked into his eyes. “Rafa…I have something to tell you,” she said, her eyes searching for something, but he couldn’t tell what. Perhaps this was the day they would get back together? He could only hold his breath.
“Is this about Harmon?” he asked, still slow dancing with her in the middle of the ballroom.
She blinked slowly and, with a knowing gaze, nodded.
“I’m in love with him,” she said. The cleanest strike was the most merciful, Rafa believed, but it still took him aback.
No matter how much he had prepared himself for the possibility, something in him broke.
This moment was a cataclysmic shift that rendered him incapable of speaking as the world seemed to tilt around him.
He peered into her eyes, his entire being ruptured in two, a wholeness no longer present.
He had always seen Sal as his soul mate, the woman he met after losing a dear friend, someone who made sense of his life, who called to his heart and spoke to his inner demons.
By God, he truly loved her. She was still the same person five minutes ago, before she confessed she was in love with someone else, but somehow, his idea of her changed, and he didn’t know what to do with it.
At that moment, Rafa thought of his father.
Though he was gone, his father’s teachings were ingrained in him.
He had told Rafa that life would test him, it would burn him, it would taunt his ego, and pull at his weaknesses, and during those times, he must ask himself one thing—that when the strike was blown, and the harm was done, what kind of man did he wish to become?
What kind of man do I wish to become? He repeated in his head.
His pace with Sal slowed, but he held her gaze.
She looked at him the way a child would, hoping their parents wouldn’t be angry at them.
But he wasn’t her father. He was her lover, no more.
The corners of his eyes collapsed as he struggled to control his emotions.
“Well…” he said, voice cracking. “Is he at least kinder to you now?”
At his last words, Sal’s eyes widened. She looked at him with a raw anguish he had never seen before on her face. Her lower lip trembled and tears gathered in her eyes as she buried her face in his chest and wept. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry.”
Rafa held her close and slowly moved her away from the crowd.
Once they were out of everyone else’s sight, he embraced her tightly and listened to her sob.
He felt a tear drop from his right eye as he took deep breaths in between her heaving, and all the while he wondered if this was the sound of love dying.