Chapter 4 THE AIRPORT
847 Words
*Chapter 4: Five Years Later - The Airport*
Manila was humid and loud in the way Mara remembered and forgot at the same time.
Elias stepped out of NAIA Terminal 3 at 5:42am with two suitcases and a camera bag that felt lighter than it did 5 years ago.
He was 34 now. His hair was shorter. There were lines around his eyes from squinting at too many sunsets in too many countries.
Lisbon. Madrid. Athens. Istanbul. Mexico City.
6 years of running. 6 years of not coming home.
He told himself he was back for work. A documentary for an NGO. 3 months.
He told himself it had nothing to do with her.
*8:30am: KapeTayo*
The cafe was still there. Same tin roof. Same busted aircon. Same table 4.
Ate Liza was older. Her hair was gray now.
"Long time no see," she said when she saw him.
"Yeah," Elias said. "Coffee. Black."
He sat at table 9 this time. Not table 4. He didn’t want to be that guy.
He was editing photos when he heard it.
"One iced coffee, one hot americano. Name?"
That voice.
He didn’t look up. Not yet.
"Mara," the voice said.
His pen stopped.
*The First Look*
She was 32. Hair longer. Wearing a blazer and jeans. No ring.
She had a man beside her. 33, maybe. Clean cut. Holding two laptops.
Jon.
Elias remembered the name from Kiko’s email 5 years ago.
They sat at table 4.
The same table.
Elias watched them from behind his laptop. Watched Jon pull out her chair. Watched Mara laugh at something Jon said. Watched the way Jon’s hand brushed her back when they walked to the counter.
It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t painful.
It was just... final.
*The Coffee Spill*
Mara went to the counter to pay. Jon stayed to save the table.
Elias stood up to leave. He wasn’t ready.
His bag caught on the chair. His coffee tipped.
"s**t," he muttered, grabbing napkins.
"Mister, are you okay?" Ate Liza asked.
And then:
"Elias?"
He looked up.
Mara was standing there. Holding her wallet. Staring.
Five years collapsed into 2 seconds.
"Hey," he said. Stupid. "You look... good."
She blinked. "You’re back."
"Yeah. For work."
"Oh."
Jon appeared behind her. "Everything okay?"
Mara turned. "Jon, this is... this is Elias. From before."
Jon smiled. Extended a hand. "Nice to meet you, man. I’ve heard a lot."
Elias shook it. His hand was steady. He hated that.
"Nice to meet you too."
*The Conversation That Wasn’t*
They stood there. 4 people. 2 coffees. 1 dead aircon.
"How long are you here?" Mara asked.
"3 months. Documentary."
"That’s great."
"Yeah. You?"
"Still at the magazine. Senior Writer now. We live in QC."
"That’s great too."
Jon put an arm around Mara’s shoulders. Casual. Possessive. "We should get going. Meeting at 10."
"Yeah," Mara said. "It was good seeing you, Elias."
"You too."
She walked out with Jon. Didn’t look back.
Elias sat back down. His coffee was cold.
*That Night: The Apartment*
He went to his old place in Cubao.
It was rented out now. A family of 4 lived there.
He booked an Airbnb instead. Small studio. 15 minutes from KapeTayo.
He unpacked. Camera. Laptop. One framed photo.
It was the photo he took of Mara asleep on his couch 6 years ago. Laptop open. Hair everywhere.
He put it on the nightstand. Facedown.
*Week 1: The Run-Ins*
Manila was small.
He saw her at a bookstore. She was with Jon. They were picking out books.
He saw her at a traffic light. She was driving. Jon was in the passenger seat.
He saw her name on an article. "By Mara Santos."
He didn’t reach out.
Neither did she.
*Week 2: The Message*
It came at 11pm.
Unknown number.
"Hey. It’s Mara. Can we talk? Coffee? My treat. -M"
Elias stared at it for an hour.
He replied: "Yeah. KapeTayo? Thursday 3pm?"
"See you there."
*Thursday 3pm: The Talk*
She came alone this time. No Jon.
She looked nervous. Picking at her cup.
"You cut your hair," she said.
"You got contacts."
"Yeah."
Silence.
"I’m sorry," she said first. "For the email. For how I did it."
"You did what you had to do."
"I waited. As long as I could."
"I know."
Another silence.
"How’s Europe?" she asked.
"Good. Lonely. But good."
"How’s... Jon?"
"He’s good to you?"
"Yeah," Mara said. "He is. He’s kind. He’s home."
Elias nodded. "That’s good. You deserve home."
She smiled. It was sad. "What about you? Are you home?"
"I don’t know," Elias said. "I think I’m still looking for it."
They talked for an hour. About work. About Lola. About the new mayor.
They didn’t talk about Lisbon. Or the key. Or the nights.
At 4pm, Mara stood up.
"I should go. Jon’s waiting."
"Yeah."
She hugged him at the door. Quick. Friendly.
"Take care, Elias."
"You too, Mara."
She left.
Elias stayed. Ordered another coffee.
Ate Liza came over. "You okay, anak?"
"Yeah," he lied. "Just reminiscing."
---
The door is open now.
- Writer
