A LOVE WE LEFT BEHIND

Chapter 4 — The Things He Remembers

A Love We Left Behind

Chapter 4 — The Things He Remembers

Maagang dumating si Zielle sa proposed relocation site.

The land was located in Batangas, not far from the affected community.

Kasama niya ang ilang residents, dalawang associates mula sa law chamber niya, at representatives ng local government.

She stepped out of the vehicle and looked around.

Malawak ang property.

May mga puno sa paligid, maayos ang access road, at sapat ang space para sa isang residential community.

Pero hindi siya madaling kumbinsihin.

"Attorney Rivera."

Lumapit ang isang company representative.

"Good morning."

"Good morning."

"We've already conducted an initial assessment. The company is considering developing this area into the relocation community."

Zielle looked at him.

"Considering?"

The representative hesitated.

"Yes."

"Then it's not approved yet."

"Not yet."

She nodded.

"Good. Then let's not make promises to the residents until everything is documented."

The representative nodded.

"Understood."

Zielle walked farther into the property.

She checked the road.

The drainage.

The surrounding area.

The distance from schools.

The distance from public transportation.

The availability of water and electricity.

She wasn't looking for a beautiful property.

She was looking for a place where twenty families could actually live.

After several minutes, she heard footsteps behind her.

She didn't need to turn.

She knew who it was.

"You're early."

Clert's voice.

Zielle continued walking.

"I always am."

"I remember."

She stopped.

Then slowly looked at him.

"Don't."

Clert immediately understood.

"Sorry."

She looked away.

"Let's focus on the inspection."

"Okay."

They walked side by side.

But there was a noticeable distance between them.

Enough space to remind them that they weren't teenagers anymore.

Enough space to remind Zielle that Clert had left.

"There's a school about fifteen minutes from here," Clert said.

Zielle glanced at him.

"You checked?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"For the families."

She nodded.

"What about transportation?"

"There's a planned access route."

"Planned?"

"We're working with the local government."

"And the water supply?"

"Already being assessed."

Zielle looked at him.

"You've prepared."

"I had to."

She frowned slightly.

"Because of the case?"

Clert shook his head.

"Because they're people."

Zielle became quiet.

That answer bothered her.

Because it sounded exactly like the Clert she used to know.

The one who would stop to help an old man carry groceries.

The one who would give his umbrella to someone else during rain.

The one who would remember little things about everyone.

She hated that he was still kind.

It would have been easier if he had become cruel.

"Attorney Rivera."

She looked toward one of the residents.

"Ma'am?"

"Maganda po rito."

Zielle smiled.

"Yes. But let's not decide yet. We'll inspect everything first."

The woman nodded.

Clert watched Zielle.

She hadn't changed.

Still careful.

Still thinking about everyone before herself.

He wanted to tell her that he had never forgotten that about her.

But he didn't.

Not yet.

After the inspection, everyone returned to the temporary conference area.

Zielle sat at a table reviewing notes.

She hadn't eaten since breakfast.

Clert noticed.

He walked toward the catering table.

"Sir?"

"Two coffees."

"Yes, sir."

"One black."

He paused.

"One with two sugars and a little milk."

The staff member nodded.

Clert returned to the table.

A few minutes later, he placed a cup beside Zielle.

She looked at it.

Then at him.

"I didn't ask for coffee."

"I know."

"Then why?"

"You haven't eaten."

Zielle frowned.

"How do you know?"

Clert shrugged.

"You still forget to eat when you're busy."

She stared at him.

He realized his mistake.

"Sorry."

Zielle looked at the cup again.

Two sugars.

A little milk.

Exactly how she used to drink coffee.

She slowly pushed it toward him.

"I don't need it."

Clert didn't take it.

"Okay."

He simply left it there.

Zielle looked back at her papers.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

The coffee remained untouched.

Finally, she picked it up.

One sip.

She hated herself for it.

It tasted exactly right.

Across the room, Clert didn't look at her.

But Olcen did.

Olcen walked over.

"You know she took the coffee, right?"

Clert continued looking at his documents.

"Yes."

"You look happy."

"I'm not."

"You're smiling."

"I'm not."

Olcen laughed.

"You're hopeless."

Clert finally looked at him.

"I know."

That afternoon, Zielle returned to her office.

But before she could enter, she saw someone standing near the reception area.

A man in a dark suit.

Holding a file.

"Excuse me."

He turned.

"Ms. Rivera?"

"Yes?"

"Olcen Navarro."

She recognized the name.

"You're Clert's lawyer."

"Private lawyer, childhood best friend, occasional babysitter."

Zielle raised an eyebrow.

"Babysitter?"

"Emotionally."

She almost smiled.

Almost.

Before she could respond, another voice came from behind.

"Why are you here?"

Zafra.

Olcen turned.

He smiled.

"Good afternoon."

Zafra looked at him.

Then at the file.

"Business?"

"Business."

"Then why are you smiling?"

"Because I'm naturally charming."

Zafra stared at him.

"You're naturally annoying."

Olcen laughed.

"I like you already."

Zafra rolled her eyes.

"You shouldn't."

Olcen looked toward Zielle.

"Now I understand where Attorney Rivera gets the attitude."

Zafra crossed her arms.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."

Zielle shook her head.

"Both of you, please."

Olcen handed the file to Zielle.

"The revised proposal."

She accepted it.

"Thank you."

Olcen nodded.

"Also, Clert asked me to tell you that if there are any concerns about the relocation plan, you can contact him directly."

Zielle looked up.

"I have your number."

Olcen smiled.

"That's not what he meant."

"Olcen."

"Okay, okay."

He turned to leave.

Zafra watched him.

"He's annoying."

Zielle looked at her.

"You've known him for thirty seconds."

"That's enough."

Zielle laughed softly.

Then she realized she had laughed.

Because of Olcen.

Not Clert.

Still—

It felt strangely nice.

The next morning, another delivery arrived.

Zielle's secretary walked into her office carrying a bouquet.

"Attorney..."

Zielle didn't look up.

"No."

"But—"

"No."

"It's flowers."

"I know."

"Should I put them outside?"

Zielle finally looked.

White lilies.

She sighed.

"Put them on the table."

Her secretary smiled.

"Yes, Attorney."

After she left, Zielle stared at the flowers.

There was another small card.

She opened it.

For someone who deserves a peaceful day.

No name.

No dramatic message.

Nothing asking for forgiveness.

Nothing asking her to come back.

Just flowers.

Zielle put the card inside her drawer.

Then she looked at the bouquet.

"You're persistent."

She whispered.

She didn't know if she was talking to Clert.

Or herself.

She eventually took the flowers home.

Not to keep.

At least that's what she told herself.

That evening, she placed them beside the first and second bouquet.

The flowers from the previous days were still there.

Some were beginning to dry.

She couldn't throw them away.

So she placed them carefully into a small box.

One by one.

She didn't know why she was doing it.

She simply did.

Then her phone vibrated.

A message.

Clert: Good evening. I hope the relocation proposal is acceptable. If you find anything that needs to be changed, tell me.

Zielle stared at the screen.

She typed:

Zielle: I will review it.

She almost stopped there.

But then she added:

Zielle: Good evening.

She stared at the message.

Then pressed send.

Across Batangas, Clert's phone vibrated.

He opened it.

Two words.

Good evening.

He smiled.

Olcen, sitting across from him, noticed.

"She replied?"

Clert nodded.

"What did she say?"

"Good evening."

Olcen stared.

"That's it?"

"Yes."

"And you're happy?"

"Yes."

Olcen shook his head.

"Your standards are incredibly low."

Clert smiled.

"With her, I'm willing to start from zero."

The next hearing was scheduled for the following week.

But before that, Zielle received a call.

"Attorney Rivera?"

"Yes."

"This is from the construction assessment team."

"What happened?"

"We found additional structural concerns in several houses."

Zielle's expression immediately became serious.

"How many?"

"Six."

She stood.

"Send me the complete report."

"Yes, Attorney."

She ended the call.

Within minutes, she was already gathering her things.

Her associate looked at her.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to the site."

"I'll come with you."

"No. Stay here and review the existing evidence."

"Yes, Attorney."

She left.

On the way, she called the residents.

Then the assessment team.

Then the local officials.

She was already thinking three steps ahead.

But when she arrived, she saw Clert.

He was standing outside one of the damaged houses.

Talking to an elderly couple.

Zielle stopped.

Clert noticed her.

He excused himself from the couple and walked toward her.

"What happened?"

"Six more houses."

"I know."

"How?"

"The assessment team called me."

Zielle looked at him.

"What are you going to do?"

Clert answered immediately.

"Temporary accommodation for the affected families until the structural assessment is complete."

"And after that?"

"Relocation if necessary."

"At the company's expense?"

"Yes."

Zielle was silent.

"You don't need to agree with me," Clert said.

"I'm not agreeing."

"I know."

She looked at him.

"You're making this difficult."

His expression softened.

"How?"

"Because you're acting like the person I remember."

Clert didn't speak.

Zielle looked away.

"You should have changed."

"Maybe I did."

She looked back at him.

"Then why are you still the same?"

Clert's eyes stayed on hers.

"Because not everything about me needed to change."

Her heart tightened.

She hated how easily he could still reach the parts of her she had locked away.

"Why did you leave?"

The question escaped before she could stop it.

Silence.

Clert looked at her.

For the first time since their reunion, his expression completely changed.

Pain.

Regret.

Something she couldn't understand.

"Zielle..."

"Forget it."

She turned away.

But Clert spoke quietly behind her.

"I will tell you."

She stopped.

"When?"

"When you're ready to hear it."

She slowly turned.

"And if I'm never ready?"

Clert looked at her.

"Then I'll wait."

Zielle stared at him.

There it was again.

That patience.

That impossible patience.

The same boy she remembered.

Except now he was a man.

A man who had already broken her heart once.

And somehow—

He was willing to spend however many years it took to earn the right to hold it again.

Zielle turned away.

She didn't answer.

But that night, when she returned home, she opened the little box beneath her bed.

Inside were the flowers.

Every single one.

She touched them gently.

And whispered to herself—

"Don't make me fall for you again."

Because somewhere deep inside her heart, she already knew.

That was exactly what she was afraid of.