(Eight years late)
Jay's POV
The gate creaked when I pushed it open.
Same house.
Same chipped paint on the wall. Same mango tree leaning a little too close to the roof.
For a second, I just stood there.
Eight years, and somehow everything still knew me.
I rang the bell.
Footsteps rushed from inside, fast and hurried.
The door flew open.
Kuya Angelo froze.
His eyes widened like he was staring at a ghost, his hand still on the door handle.
"…Jay?"
I smiled. "Hi, Kuya."
He didn't say another word. He pulled me into a hug so tight my feet almost left the ground.
"You're really here," he said, voice breaking. "You're actually here."
Before I could reply, another voice cut in.
"Who is it—"
Tita stopped mid-sentence.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
"Oh my God," she whispered, already tearing up. "It's you."
She held my face like she needed to make sure I was real. "You've changed," she murmured. "You look… grown."
I laughed softly. "I hope that's a good thing."
Then I felt it.
A presence.
"Jay."
I turned.
Aries stood there, completely still. For a moment, he just stared at me, eyes glassy, like he didn't trust what he was seeing.
Then he crossed the distance in two steps and pulled me into his arms.
Hard.
"Where have you been?" he asked, voice shaking against my shoulder. "Why did you leave without saying anything?"
My chest tightened.
I hugged him back. "I needed time."
It wasn't everything.
But it was enough.
Later, while we sat in the living room, Tita frowned slightly. "Did you not bring your luggage?"
"Oh," I said casually, "it's at my condo."
Silence.
"Condo?" Angelo repeated.
"You're not staying here?" Aries asked.
"My friends are with me," I said calmly. "I'm staying with them."
Their expressions shifted—surprise, confusion, a hint of hurt.
I pretended not to notice.
Some things didn't need explanations. Not yet.
The condo building was modern, tall, glass catching the city lights.
I stepped inside, distracted by my phone, and bumped into someone.
"Oh—sorry," I said quickly.
"Sorry," the man replied at the same time.
We moved past each other.
"Jay!"
The name echoed.
My heart stopped.
I froze.
Behind me, the man slowed and turned.
For a split second, something flickered across his face—shock, confusion, disbelief.
Then he exhaled, shook his head slightly, and looked away.
Like he'd imagined it.
I didn't turn back.
My condo was exactly how I liked it—quiet, clean, untouched by memories.
Across the hall lived Lucas. Next door was Mira, my friend from New York—sharp, loud, and impossible not to love.
By evening, we were all gathered in Lucas's condo, laughter spilling into the hallway like old times never ended.
"Rooftop pool," Mira announced. "We deserve it."
Lucas grinned. "I'm not arguing."
I hesitated for half a second.
Then nodded. "Okay."
The rooftop was alive—city lights stretching endlessly, water glowing under the night sky.
We jumped in without ceremony.
Someone splashed Lucas. Mira screamed dramatically. I laughed before I could stop myself.
For the first time since I arrived, my chest felt lighter.
We played. We joked. We floated lazily, talking about nothing and everything.
"Jay!" Mira splashed water at me. "You're too quiet!"
"I'm enjoying myself," I shot back, laughing.
After a while, I climbed out to grab a 🛟 from the side, water dripping down my arms.
I turned back toward the pool—
My foot slipped.
The world tilted.
Strong hands caught my waist.
Firm. Steady.
My breath hitched.
That touch—
I knew it.
My heart recognized it before my mind could deny it.
I looked up.
And gasped.