THE REWRITE || Mystery Romance

Compasses Without Maps

Hours passed…

I decided to visit Grandfa at the provincial hospital. I needed to see him. I needed to make sure he was really okay. If I could, I would’ve added fifty more years to his life, just to keep him alive longer.

The moment I stepped into the hospital, that familiar smell hit me.

Antiseptic and metal.

The soft rattling of carts. The low beeping of machines.

Everything in the air whispered memories.

“Hold on. Everything will be alright.”

His voice.

I heard it again. Or… I thought I did.

Maybe it was just my brain, dragging me back to that old hospital, that old room, where the voice I wanted most told me not to give up. Strange how pain likes to echo, even when you beg it to stay quiet.

“Please move aside! Emergency!” someone shouted.

I blinked, startled, realizing I was blocking the hallway. A female patient was being rushed past me on a stretcher, a nurse running beside her. He was holding her hand. But it wasn’t him. Just a nurse.

My shoulders sank.

“Was I really expecting him to show up?”

Realization hit me like a bucket of cold water.

This wasn’t the same hospital. This wasn’t the same time.

This was just a provincial hospital, not the one in the City.

I sighed under my breath and walked toward Grandfa’s ward, still shaken by the rush of it all, both in the hallway and in my chest.

When I entered the room, Aunt Hermione was there, her head resting on the bedside table. Grandfa lay peacefully asleep. He looked so weak and pale.

I sat on the vacant chair beside his bed and gently took his hand.

“Grandfa… please be well,” I whispered. “Ley gets sad when you’re not healthy.”

Aunt Hermione stirred and lifted her head. “Ley, you’re here,” she said with a tired but warm smile.

I nodded softly.

“I’m glad to see you again,” she added.

I offered a small smile in return, trying to make it look real.

“Your grandfa wanted to talk to you, but he fell really sick suddenly,” Aunt Hermione continued. “That’s why I came home immediately yesterday. I took a few days off from work so I could care for him properly.”

There it was again.

The weight of what they all wanted me to carry.

Inside, my thoughts pressed against me like stones: Am I really ready for this? To be the one who gives him what he wants before he leaves us?

Part of me wanted to scream that I wasn’t. That I was still young, still figuring out who I was. But another part… the part that loved him more than her own pride… whispered that maybe his happiness mattered more than my excuses.

I squeezed his hand a little tighter, hiding the tremor in mine.

I simply nodded again, pressing my lips together to keep from saying something I’d regret. I truly wanted Grandfa to get better.

Aunt Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out a small box, holding it out to me.

“I bought you a cellphone from the city. Advance birthday gift,” she said. “You’ll need it.”

I stared at the box in silence. I didn’t know what to say.

She understood.

“It’s okay. I know it’s a lot. Just… take it.”

I nodded and accepted it, my fingers curling around the box like it was heavier than it should be.

A phone.

A gift meant to make the mission easier.

A tool.

Like a compass… when I really needed a map.

“Thank you, Auntie.”

It came out flat, dry.

I should’ve been happy. I should’ve smiled. But I felt hollow.

“Auntie… I can stay here with Grandfa until Sunday. You should go home and rest,” I offered, forcing a small smile.

She gave me a grateful look and gently patted my shoulder. “You’re a good girl, Ley.” Then she quietly left.

And I was alone.

Alone with the pressure of becoming someone I never dreamed of becoming.

The pain hadn’t gone away. It had only settled deeper, like something I’d just have to learn to carry.

“He was never mine.”

I looked down at my hands, at the phone box I hadn’t opened.

“It’s time to forget him.”

And for the first time, I truly meant it.

Not because the pain had vanished…

But because it was the only way I’d survive.

Still, the words echoed like a lie I wanted to believe.

* * *

The steady beeping of the machine filled the silence. I sat still, clutching the unopened phone box, when a faint rustle made me lift my gaze.

Grandfa’s eyes fluttered open.

“Grandfa…” My voice trembled before I could stop it.

He blinked, as if adjusting to the light, then turned his head slowly toward me. “Leyanne,” he whispered, his tone weak but warm.

Relief loosened something tight in my chest. I set the box aside and leaned closer, carefully helping him adjust on the pillow.

“You’re awake. Wait, I’ll get some water.”

I poured a glass and gently supported his head as I held the straw to his lips. He sipped, slow and deliberate, before giving me a small nod.

“Thank you, dear apo,” he said. His hand, frail but still steady, reached for mine. “Always so thoughtful. Just like…” His eyes softened with memory. “Just like your lola.”

I froze. He rarely spoke about her.

“She was stubborn, you know,” he went on, his gaze drifting past me as though seeing her in the room. “Didn’t want to marry me at first. She said I was too serious, too boring.” He chuckled, a sound faint but genuine. “But I followed her everywhere, to the plaza, to her family’s store… I brought fish to their house every time I got home from fishing. I even learned how to weave mats and baskets just so I’d have an excuse to stay close.”

A reluctant smile tugged at my lips. I had never imagined him as a lovestruck young man, chasing after a woman with the same persistence people now demanded from me.

“She was my great love, Leyanne. And when she finally said yes, I promised her I’d take care of her until my last breath. Every day, I tried to keep that promise.” His voice quivered, but his eyes shone with something bright, something eternal.

I quietly spooned some porridge from the bowl on the tray, blowing on it before lifting it to his lips. He accepted it slowly, never breaking eye contact.

“You remind me of her,” he said softly. “The way you keep your feelings hidden. She was like that too, cold to others… but sweet once you learned how to listen.”

My chest tightened. I quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the porridge, but my eyes began to sting and blur.

Great. Just what I needed, dramatic tears in front of Grandfa. Perfect.

“Grandfa…” My voice came out low, uncertain.

He gave me a tired smile. “You’re still young, apo. Too young to carry so much alone. But someday, you’ll understand what it means to love with your whole heart. And when that day comes…” His hand pressed over mine with surprising strength. “…promise me you’ll be brave enough to choose it.”

The spoon in my hand trembled slightly. His words were soft, gentle, but they sank like stones into the waters I had tried so hard to keep calm.

Was this his way of leading me to that wish everyone kept whispering about?

* * *

I carefully spooned the soup, watching the steam curl into the air. Grandfa Tony sat across from me, his eyes half-closed but a soft smile on his face.

“You’re too quiet today,” he said, his voice gentle but teasing. “Thinking too much again, eh?”

I shrugged, trying to hide the flutter of unease in my chest. “Life’s just… hard sometimes, Grandfa.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Hard, hmm? You’re not even twenty yet. What’s got you so worried?”

I set the spoon down with a sigh. “It’s just… everything feels so hard right now. Even the air we breathe, which should be free, is polluted. Everything costs so much. Life itself isn’t cheap. And having family responsibilities at my age… it’s exhausting.”

Grandfa Tony chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Ah, my girl. You make it sound like the world is plotting against you.”

“I’m serious, Grandfa,” I said, my voice softening. “And… finding someone… someone better… it feels impossible. Who would even want me? I’m not… the kind of girl people notice.”

Grandfa leaned closer, his eyes sparkling. “Not the kind of girl people notice?” he repeated, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Leyanne Ramos, you’ve got more admirers than you think. Back in high school, every boy I saw staring at you had their heart racing. They were just… scared of your cold stare.”

I blinked, a faint blush warming my cheeks. “That’s… not true.” I looked away, trying to sound indifferent. “I just… I just don’t feel… that kind of beautiful. You know, the one that turns heads everywhere.”

“Ah, but that’s the thing,” Grandfa Tony said, chuckling again. “You don’t need to turn every head. Those who matter… they’ll notice you for who you are. And that’s worth more than any flashy beauty.”

I lowered my gaze, stirring the soup absentmindedly. “I guess… I just feel… ordinary sometimes.”

“Leyanne, you are far from ordinary,” he said firmly, placing his wrinkled hand over mine. “What makes you truly special isn’t how you look, it’s your heart and your mind. Don’t ever forget that, and never doubt yourself.”

I wanted to tell him that even if men admired me, I never liked any of them back. They didn’t have what I was looking for in a man… something rare, something deeper. Something I had only ever seen in him. Only in Ray.

Grandfa Tony’s eyes met mine, soft yet piercing, as if he could see the invisible threads of my heart. “Leyanne,” he said slowly, “people often chase what is loud and bright, thinking it will fill the emptiness inside. But what lasts… what truly matters… is quiet, steady, and unseen by most.”

I swallowed, feeling the truth of his words echo through me.

“Love,” he continued, “is not a fleeting flame. It is the fire that warms you in silence, that holds steady when storms pass. To find it… you must recognize it when it arrives, even if the world calls it ordinary.”

I allowed myself a small, almost guilty smile. Ray… he was everything Grandfa described. Not the kind of admiration that faded with time, but a presence that felt endless, grounding, and familiar in ways I hadn’t dared to hope for.

“Grandfa,” I whispered, my voice barely carrying, “I think… I’ve already found that.”

He chuckled, the sound gentle and certain, like a promise. “Then treasure it, Leyanne. Some things are too rare to let go, and too true to ignore.”

And yet, as I sat there in the stillness, I realized something. Life, love, and choices, they were all like compasses without maps. We may know the direction our hearts point to, but the path ahead remains uncharted, uncertain. Still… I was willing to walk it.