I stood up slowly, the fabric of my scrubs rustling against the couch as I moved. My limbs felt heavy from days of exhaustion, but my chest felt lighter somehow. Like the weight I'd been carrying for weeks had loosened its grip, if only a little.
Faer watched me carefully as I reached for the coat hanging behind the chair. I stared at it for a second, then let out a slow breath… and took it off instead.
He blinked, confused. "Where are you going?
I slung the coat over the backrest and rolled up the sleeves of my undershirt. My fingers trembled slightly, but my voice came out clearer than I expected.
"I'm going to talk to him."
Faer straightened. "Huh? Like—now?"
I nodded, my eyes fixed on the door as if it were the only path left to me.
"Yes."
His mouth opened, then closed again. "You're sure?"
I didn't answer right away. I glanced at the now-cold matcha latte beside me, then back at him.
"No. But I want to see him. I want this… to finally end."
Faer exhaled through his nose, like he'd been holding his own breath this whole time for me. He stood, walked over, and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Don't expect answers tonight," he said quietly—but firmly. The kind of certainty that comes from someone who's been there, who knows better than to hope for too much, too fast.
I nodded, "I won't."
But the truth was, a small part of me still wanted to. Maybe not the whole truth, not all at once, but something. Just enough to stop this aching guesswork in my chest.
"And don't expect him to say all the things you wished he did," he added, eyes flicking to me with a gentleness that made the air feel heavier.
"I know," I murmured, barely keeping my voice steady. I'd rehearsed that conversation so many times in my head, words I needed to hear, apologies I never got. But real life never gave a clean closure.
He paused for a beat, then said, almost offhandedly, "But if you end up crying—don't do it here. Our reputation in the lounge is already ruined."
I blinked, caught off guard, then let out a small, dry laugh.
"Noted," I said, managing a faint smile.
Faer squeezed my shoulder once, then stepped back, letting me go.
I looked down at my hands one last time. Then at the door.
And then I walked out, towards whatever waited on the other side. Whether it was closure, chaos, or something in between, I knew this time I wasn't walking away from it.
I was walking into it.
I opened the door of the café. The bell above the café door chimed as I stepped inside.
But something was off tonight. There was no scent of roasted garlic or simmering sauces welcoming me. No music is playing softly in the background. No quiet clatter of dishes behind the counter.
And Nova wasn't behind the counter.
My eyes searched the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of his familiar messy hair, his tall frame. But the space was empty, except for the light spilling out from the kitchen.
I was about to leave. Pretend I forgot something, or pretend I didn't need dinner.
Then the door swung open.
Nova stepped out, wiping his hands on a towel.
He stood there, staring at me. No smile or greeting. Just a long, unreadable look as he slowly approached my usual table.
Then he stopped, standing across from me. Close enough that I could smell the faint trace of something earthy and warm on his clothes. Basil, maybe.
"I didn't think you'd come back," he said quietly. His voice barely rose above the space between us. He wasn't looking at me directly, like meeting my eyes might make this moment too real.
"I almost didn't," I replied, my voice strained, like every word had to fight its way out of my chest.
Silence stretched between us. Heavy, expectant.
Then he turned to me, just enough to ask, "Then why are you here?"
I looked at him, then looked at the tired curve of his mouth, the way his fingers fidgeted like he wanted to say more but didn't know how. And suddenly, the lump in my throat swelled.
I fumbled with the hem of my shirt, breath hitching.
"Because..." I exhaled, eyes stinging. "Because I didn't want to keep running."
The words came out softer than I intended, but they were the truth. The truth that I had been running from this, him, the memories, the feelings, for so long, I forgot what it felt like to stand still. How to face it or to choose not to escape.
He didn't reply.
But maybe the silence was understanding. Or maybe just room for both of us to figure out what came next.
"I didn't mean to run in hi—"
"Nova, may flour pa ba sa pantry?"
My eyes flew open. A young woman stepped out from the door behind the counter, tying her hair into a ponytail as she walked.
She was wearing the same apron and uniform as Nova, flour dusting her cheeks like soft freckles.
My breath hitched. It was like someone plunged a knife into my chest, twisted it, then left it there.
She was beautiful. Effortlessly so. The kind that made the air feel thinner. The kind that made me feel foolish for ever thinking I had a chance.
"Oh, good evening, sir!" she chirped, then shot Nova a glare sharp enough to slice bread.
"Oh, good evening, sir!" she chirped—then shot Nova a glare sharp enough to slice bread.
"Why didn't you tell me there was still a customer?" she snapped, before turning back to me with a bright, professional smile.
I felt my heart ache, squeezed tight in my chest.
Maybe she's the partner he mentioned. The "just a friend."
With someone that beautiful, just friends?
Yeah. Right.
Liar.
"So, what can I get you, Sir?" she asked, all cheerful, as though I wasn't coming undone right in front of them.
I swallowed, pulse pounding in my ears. My mouth felt dry as paper.
U–uh, sorry. I just… forgot something," I stammered, my voice cracking.
I turned away, desperate to escape before I completely broke. But before I could take another step, a hand wrapped around my wrist, trembling.
I froze, biting my lip hard enough to taste blood. I blinked away tears as I slowly looked back.
Nova stood there, his brow furrowed, eyes desperate. "It's not what you think it i—"
I forced a trembling smile, even as my vision blurred. "It's okay. I just…" My voice broke. "…wanted to see you," I whispered it, barely audible, a confession and a goodbye tangled into one.
Then I gently tugged my arm free from his grasp and walked out of the coffee shop for the second time that week.
Outside, the night air felt cold and razor sharp against my cheeks. I broke into a run. I could hear Nova calling my name behind me, but I never looked back.
And it hurt so much, I wished I could just reach into my chest and tear my own heart out, if only to stop the pain.
I woke up feeling like I'd been run over by a truck. My head throbbed dully, a pulse of pain behind my eyes. The early sunlight creeping through the gaps in my curtains felt too bright, harsh against the darkness still clinging to my chest.
My pillow was damp. My shirt stuck to my skin with the clammy residue of dried sweat and tears. Everything smelled faintly of salt and old cotton. I lay there for long minutes, unable to move, my breath catching each time a new wave of pain rolled through me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping I could will myself back into sleep, where at least the hurt was a little less sharp. But all I could see behind my eyelids was Nova's face, the way his eyes widened in panic, the girl standing beside him, smiling like she belonged there.
The door creaked open. A soft shuffle of feet. The mattress dipped as Henzo perched on the edge.
"Kuya..." His voice was gentle, uncertain. "You awake?"
I opened my eyes slowly, feeling the skin around them tight and puffy. Henzo's face swam into focus, looking pinched with worry.
"Dude..." He padded over and sat beside me, inspecting my face. "...did someone beat you up?"
I let out a strangled laugh. "I feel like I got beat up,"
Henzo reached over and gently touched under my eye, like he was checking for bruises. "What happened? The café guy again?"
My lips parted, but no words came. The question twisted something deep inside my chest. I tried to answer, but the words stuck, thick and heavy in my throat.
My lips trembled. A sob clawed its way up before I could stop it, tearing out of me like something breaking.
"Hey..." Henzo tugged at my arm until I rolled back to face him. He pulled me into a tight hug, his hand rubbing circles on my back.
I didn't say anything, more like I couldn't say anything. "What did he do?" He asked, still patting my back.
Through gasping breaths, I forced the words out. "I saw him… with a girl. Last night. At the café. She was beautiful, Henz. I didn't stand a chance."
Henzo cursed under his breath. "Maybe she's just a coworker."
"He said it wasn't what I thought—but it already hurts. I can't do this anymore. I feel stupid."
Henzo pulled back and cupped my face between his palms. "Kuya, please. Let him go. You don't deserve to cry like this."
My vision blurred again. "I can't," I sobbed. "I still love him. I've loved him for five years."
Henzo sighed, hugging me. "I don't even know how to help you."
I let out a broken laugh, wiping my tears with the heel of my palm. "It's fine."
He ruffled my hair and stood up. "Just shower. You smell terrible."
"This kid," I mumbled, throwing a pillow at him as he left, but I was grateful. The room felt a little less like a tomb with him in it.
I finally dragged myself out of bed, legs wobbly beneath me, and stepped into the shower. The hot water stung my skin, a sharp contrast to the cold weight still lodged in my chest. I scrubbed until my skin felt raw, but nothing washed the ache away.
When I emerged, my eyes were still swollen. I slipped into an oversized shirt and sweatpants and shuffled out into the living room.
Henzo was sprawled on the couch, a blanket tangled around his legs, half-asleep as he scrolled on his phone. He looked up as I entered.
"Wow, it's a miracle you're actually wearing clothes today," he said, though his eyes lingered on the redness around my eyes.
"Shut up."
It was the only thing I could say, because he was right. If Nova hadn't seen me half-naked before, I'd probably still be walking around this house in just my boxers.
I sat down beside him, hugging a throw pillow against my chest. Before either of us could say anything, the doorbell rang.
Henzo frowned. "Who's that?" He tossed the blanket aside and went to the door.
I barely reacted, half-numb, staring at the coffee table where my half-finished mug from yesterday sat cold and abandoned. I was just about to close my eyes again when I heard Henzo's voice.
"What are you doing here?"
A familiar voice answered, soft and shaking. "Is Noah here?"
I froze. My breath stalled in my lungs. It felt like the walls of the living room shrank, pressing in on me. My pulse thundered in my ears.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze, and there he was.
Nova stood on our doorstep, framed by the morning sunlight. His hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot like he hadn't slept. His shirt clung to his frame, wrinkled and stained with a faint coffee splotch on one sleeve. He looked vulnerable and painfully familiar.
Henzo spread his arms wide, blocking most of the doorway.
"Leave. You have nothing to talk about here."
Nova's eyes flicked past Henzo and landed on me. His entire face changed the instant he saw my eyes soften, my lips part like I might cry.
"Noah…" His voice cracked. "Please. Can we talk? Even just for a moment?"
My entire body went rigid. A wave of nausea rolled through my gut. My nails dug into the fabric of the pillow until my fingers hurt.
Henzo threw a protective arm in front of me. "He doesn't need to talk to you."
"Henzo..." My voice barely rose above a whisper. I couldn't look away from Nova, who was gripping the strap of the canvas bag slung across his chest like a lifeline. His knuckles were white.
"Noah, please." Nova took a small step closer. "It's not what you think. I swear, just...let me explain. I can't stand the thought of you not knowing the truth."
My mouth opened, but no sound came out. Part of me screamed to slam the door, to save myself from more hurt. But another part, the part that still ached for him, wanted to hear whatever he had to say, even if it killed me.
Henzo shook his head violently.
"F*** no. That's enough. Leave. If you make him cry again, I'll break your face."
Henzo shoved Nova like Nova wasn't ten times bigger than him.
Nova looked at Henzo, then back at me, eyes glistening with hope.
"Noah… I'm begging you. Just five minutes, then I'll leave."
The room felt tilted, like I was about to fall. My chest constricted so tightly I struggled to breathe. I pressed my palm over my sternum as if trying to physically keep my heart from bursting through my ribs.
"Please..." Nova whispered.
"I just...I miss you so much."
Henzo turned to me, jaw clenched. "Kuya...?"
I swallowed, tasting salt on my tongue. I couldn't make myself speak. But I nodded, just barely.
Henzo let out an explosive breath and moved aside.
"Fine. But you stay in the living room. You're not allowed into his bedroom."
Nova stepped inside cautiously, as if afraid any sudden movement might shatter me. I stared at him, breathing hard, my vision blurring as tears gathered again.
He stopped a few feet away. "I'm sorry," he said, voice shaking. "About last night. About everything."
I couldn't hold it back any longer. My tears fell, hot and silent, sliding down my cheeks.
Nova reached out a trembling hand. "Noah..."
I recoiled slightly, pressing myself deeper into the couch. "Don't...don't touch me."
Nova dropped his arm, nodding, his own eyes brimming with unshed tears.
"Okay," he whispered. "I won't. I'll just...talk."
My entire body trembled as I tried to steady my breathing. "Then talk. Tell me everything."
And as Henzo lingered in the doorway, arms crossed and eyes blazing.
Is this finaly the truth I desperately wanted and dreaded to hear?