Unexpectedly In Love

12 If You Let Me

I didn't sleep much that night.

Not because I was crying.

Not because I was waiting for Ethan to message me.

But because for the first time, I was forced to sit with my own thoughts without running away from them.

I was scared.

That was the truth.

But being scared didn't automatically mean Ethan was hurting me.

I had spent so much time learning how to protect myself that sometimes, I forgot the difference between danger and fear.

And last night...

I let my fear speak for me.

I picked up my phone for probably the hundredth time.

Still nothing.

I opened our conversation.

His last message was still there.

I'm not leaving, Lyss.

I stared at it.

Then another message.

But I can't keep proving I'm not someone who hurt you.

I swallowed hard.

He wasn't asking me to stop being afraid.

He was asking me to stop making him pay for something he didn't do.

And maybe...

I owed him an apology.

Not the kind where I would say sorry just so everything could go back to normal.

A real one.

The kind where I admitted that I was wrong.

I typed.

Can we talk?

I stared at the message for almost a minute before finally pressing send.

The reply came a few minutes later.

Where?

I smiled a little despite myself.

That was Ethan.

No unnecessary questions.

No dramatic response.

Just Ethan.

I typed the place where we first met.

Our café.

⸻

He was already there when I arrived.

Sitting at our usual table.

Two cups of coffee were on the table.

One was mine.

Of course.

I stopped for a second when I saw him.

He looked tired.

And somehow, that hurt more than if he had looked angry.

"Hi," I said quietly.

He looked up.

"Hi."

I sat across from him.

For a few seconds, neither of us said anything.

The café was quieter than usual.

Maybe it was just me.

Or maybe everything felt different because we weren't pretending everything was okay.

I looked down at my coffee.

"I'm sorry."

Ethan didn't answer immediately.

I took a breath.

"I know saying sorry doesn't automatically fix what happened."

He nodded slightly.

"I know."

"I was scared."

"I know."

I looked at him.

"Pero that doesn't excuse how I treated you."

His expression softened.

"Lyss—"

"No." I shook my head. "Let me finish, please."

He nodded.

"I saw that picture. You didn't reply for hours. And instead of asking you what happened, I immediately assumed the worst."

I looked down.

"Parang... bumalik ako doon."

"Back to Marco?"

I nodded.

"And suddenly, ikaw na yung kausap ko, pero yung kinatatakutan ko... siya pa rin."

Ethan was quiet.

"I know you're not him," I continued. "I know that. Pero sometimes my brain doesn't."

I let out a small laugh, but there was no humor in it.

"Ang gulo, 'di ba?"

"A little."

I looked at him.

He smiled faintly.

"Sorry."

I laughed softly.

"Grabe ka."

"I'm trying to make you smile."

"You're so annoying."

"I know."

For a moment, the tension disappeared.

But only for a moment.

I looked at him again.

"I don't want to keep doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Running."

He didn't say anything.

"I don't want to keep disappearing every time I get scared. I don't want to make you guess what I'm thinking. I don't want you to feel like whatever you do, you're always one mistake away from losing me."

Ethan leaned back slightly.

"Then don't."

I frowned.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Ang dali mong sabihin."

"Hindi ko sinabing madali."

That made me quiet.

He looked at me carefully.

"Trust isn't you never getting scared, Lyss."

He paused.

"Trust is what you do after you get scared."

I looked at him.

"And what am I supposed to do?"

"Tell me."

"Even if it's stupid?"

"Especially if you think it's stupid."

I smiled a little.

"So if I overthink something... I tell you?"

"Yes."

"Even if I'm being irrational?"

"Yes."

"Even if I'm annoying?"

He smiled.

"You already are."

I rolled my eyes.

"Seriously."

"Seriously."

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.

"You don't have to figure everything out alone."

I stared at him.

"I can give you space when you need it. But you have to tell me when you need space. Hindi yung bigla ka na lang mawawala."

"I know."

"And I can reassure you when you need reassurance."

I nodded.

"But I also need you to believe me when I tell you the truth."

That one hurt.

Because I knew he was right.

"I'll try."

"I don't want you to say that just because you feel guilty."

"I'm not."

He studied my face.

"I really want to try."

He was quiet for a moment.

Then he reached across the table.

His hand stopped halfway.

Like he was giving me the choice.

I looked at his hand.

Then at him.

Slowly, I placed my hand in his.

His fingers closed around mine.

Warm.

Familiar.

Safe.

I didn't realize how much I missed holding his hand until that moment.

"I can't promise I'll never get scared again," I whispered.

"I know."

"I'll probably overthink again."

"Probably."

I gave him a look.

"Supportive mo talaga."

He laughed.

"But I'll try to tell you instead of assuming."

He nodded.

"And I can't promise I'll always know what to say."

"That's okay."

"I might make mistakes."

"I know."

I squeezed his hand.

"And you might hurt me someday."

His expression changed slightly.

Not because he wanted to.

Because he understood what I meant.

"I might," he said honestly.

My chest tightened.

"But I can promise you this."

He looked directly at me.

"I won't intentionally make you feel unsafe. I won't play with your feelings. I won't make you question where you stand just because I can."

I swallowed.

"That means more to me than you think."

"I know."

"No, you don't."

He smiled.

"Then tell me."

I looked down at our hands.

"I spent a long time thinking that love meant losing control."

I paused.

"Like once you love someone, they have the power to ruin you."

Ethan listened.

"And maybe that's why I was so afraid of you."

"Because you love me?"

My eyes widened.

"Excuse me?"

He grinned.

"You heard me."

"Ang kapal ng mukha mo."

"I'm just asking."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

I tried to pull my hand away, but he held it gently.

"Don't."

I looked at him.

His smile faded into something softer.

"Stay."

One word.

Simple.

But somehow, it reached somewhere deep inside me.

"I want to," I whispered.

His thumb brushed over my hand.

"Then stay."

I looked at him.

And for once, staying didn't feel like surrender.

It didn't feel like giving someone the power to hurt me.

It felt like choosing.

Choosing to trust.

Choosing to communicate.

Choosing to believe that not every ending had to look like my past.

"I'm still scared," I admitted.

Ethan nodded.

"That's okay."

"I don't know if I'll ever completely stop being scared."

"You don't have to."

I smiled.

"Then what do I have to do?"

He thought for a second.

"Just don't let fear make every decision for you."

My smile slowly faded.

Because that was exactly what I needed to hear.

Not don't be afraid.

Not I'll never hurt you.

Not everything will always be okay.

Just...

Don't let fear decide for you.

I looked down at our hands again.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

He smiled.

"Good."

I smiled back.

"Good."

We stayed like that for a while.

No dramatic promises.

No perfect answers.

Just two people sitting across from each other, holding hands, trying to understand what it meant to choose each other without losing themselves.

After a few minutes, Ethan stood.

"Come on."

"Where?"

"Walk."

"Now?"

"Yes."

"Bakit?"

"Because you're thinking too much."

I narrowed my eyes.

"And you know this how?"

"I know you."

I couldn't help but smile.

"Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?"

"Don't get too excited."

He laughed.

We walked outside.

The afternoon air was warm, but there was a light breeze.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

Our hands were still intertwined.

Then Ethan stopped.

I looked at him.

"What?"

He didn't answer.

He just looked at me.

The kind of look that made my heart beat a little faster.

"Ethan?"

"I'm glad you came."

I smiled.

"I'm glad you asked."

He stepped a little closer.

Not too close.

Just enough.

"Can I?"

My heart skipped.

I knew what he was asking.

And this time...

I didn't run.

I nodded.

He leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss against my forehead.

Nothing rushed.

Nothing demanding.

Just warmth.

Just reassurance.

When he pulled away, I looked at him.

"That's it?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"What were you expecting?"

"Nothing."

"Good."

I laughed.

"Ang yabang mo."

"You like me anyway."

I looked away, trying to hide my smile.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Don't push it."

He smiled.

And somehow, the fear inside me didn't disappear.

But it became quieter.

Because maybe healing wasn't about waking up one day and realizing you weren't afraid anymore.

Maybe it was about being afraid...

and choosing to stay anyway.

I squeezed Ethan's hand.

He looked at me.

"Ready?"

I nodded.

"Yeah."

And as we started walking again, I realized something.

I wasn't choosing Ethan because he promised me a perfect love story.

I was choosing him because he gave me the freedom to be afraid without making me feel ashamed of it.

And maybe...

that was what trust looked like.

Not certainty.

Not perfection.

Just two people saying,

I'm scared.

Me too.

But if you let me...

I'll try.

Maybe love wasn't asking me to be fearless.

Maybe it was asking me to be brave enough to stay.