The Fateful Reunion

I vividly recall that rainy night. I was standing alone in the waiting shed, brokenhearted, looking pitiful after crying so much. I asked myself countless times, what did I do wrong? Why did the man I loved leave me? In the waiting shed where we used to meet, I would stand there every afternoon, hoping to meet him—but he never showed up. “Good morning! Welcome to Stillsky's restaurant. What would you like to order?” I recited, trying to exude as much enthusiasm as possible. They smiled and said, “We would like to have one of this,” while pointing to the menu they were holding. After taking their order, I approached other more customers before heading to the passthrough serving window behind the counter, which was connected to the kitchen. “Three new orders!” I turned to the side when I heard my co-workers talking. At the counter, they were discussing their romantic relationships. “At least your boyfriend is romantic. Mine, I don’t even know,” Aya said. Shane laughed, flipping her hair. “Of course, it's me,” she replied. I chimed in, “Boyfriends again,” as I approached them. But this wasn’t new to me. They loved to talk about love. “Look,” Shane handed me her phone with a picture of her with her boyfriend in the middle of a flower field with the sunset behind them. She looked so happy. “Was this taken yesterday?” “Yes, after that, he took me to a restaurant for dinner. I thought that was it, but he surprised me with a bouquet!” she recounted. “It feels so good to be in love!” “Let's see if you can still say that when he breaks up with you,” we all turned to the voice and saw Chris standing at the entrance to the kitchen. He helps with the cook. Shane's brow furrowed quickly. “Chris, your ruining the moment.” She glared at him, but he just laughed, “I'm just saying.” “He's just trying to get attention because Bella’s here.” Aya said with a teasing smile on her face. "W-what are you saying!" Chris stammered. When our eyes met, he quickly looked away. His ears turned red. I could feel my own cheeks heating up too. "Chris!" a voice called from the kitchen. "You're being called, go!" Shane urged him. Chris immediately head into the kitchen, leaving the three of us alone again. Suddenly, the two girls moved closer to me, looking directly at me, which made me a bit nervous. "Why?" "What do you think of Chris?" Aya asked. "He can be annoying, but deep inside, he's kind," she described him. "I know that," I've been working side by side with him for a year. "If he ever courted you, would you say yes?" I was momentarily stunned by the question. "W-what kind of question is that!" The idea had never crossed my mind. To me, he was a friend I could always rely on in times of adversity. "Just answer!" she insisted. "Yes or no?" "Chris is kind," When I was new to the job, he was the one who helped me adjust. He taught me things that confused me in work and gave me comfort or advice whenever I felt down after dealing with rude customers. I also saw how hardworking and generous he was with his co-workers. "But I’m not ready to enter a relationship." "If you were ready?" Shane's question made me think deeply, but I couldn't conclude. “I-I don’t know yet.” The two of them exchanged glances after I said. “Looks like this is a friend zone," Aya murmured to Shane— and I heard it. “Tables 8 and 6!” We heard a shout from the passthrough serving window, followed by the sound of plates being set down. One of our other co-workers grabbed the rest of the plates. “Get up; more people are coming in,” We looked towards the entrance, where we saw the hostess bringing in some customers into the dining area. “Back to work,” Aya announced. What perfect timing to end the conversation—and I’m silently thankful that it ended. I remembered Shane's question again. I like Chris, I admire him, but I just can't see him in a romantic light. It was nearly lunchtime, and the restaurant was getting even busier. I turned towards a man sitting on the side of the restaurant. I approached him, and as I reached the table, asked, "What can I get for you?" I felt my heart drop as the man lowered the menu he had been using to cover his face. He slowly looked up until our eyes met. Those eyes that I used to love so much before. It was John Nathan Villamor—my ex-boyfriend. He was here, sitting right in front of me. I was frozen in my spot, just staring at him. I wasn’t mentally prepared. “How have you been?” In that one question, hundreds of memories came flooding back to my mind one by one. The sleepless nights, the loss of appetite, the hours of waiting at the bus stop and crying. The frustration, the anger, the pain that I thought had long gone suddenly came rushing back into my heart. No matter how much I wanted to scream for the pain he caused me, I couldn’t do it. I was a server, and he was a customer. I tried my best to flash a smile, although I couldn't see my expression. "Welcome to Stillsky's Restaurant! What can I get for you?" I asked him again, but my attempt at hospitality fell flat. He chuckled, pointing out, "Is that how you greet your customers? Your expression seems off," as his light-brown eyes locked onto mine. "Have you decided on your order?" I repeated, hoping to make a quick exit. "Your hair is so short now," he remarked casually like we were some old friends. His nonchalant demeanor fueling my anger. Didn't he remember what he had done to me? The thought made my chest tighten, and I clenched the pen and paper in my hands. "Just give one of us a shout when you're ready to order," I commenced my retreat but was interrupted by his laughter. "I'm ready to order now; here's what I'll have," he said as he articulated his order, and when done, I almost sprinted to the kitchen. Leaning against the wall, I struggled to steady my racing heart, which throbbed relentlessly. "Bella?" Chris, who had noticed my distress, inquired, "Are you okay?" I nodded faintly, handing him the customer's order. "Take care of this. I need a moment in the staff room," I said, not desiring a response, before heading to the sanctuary of the staff room. Seated at the nearest chair, I attempted to calm my frayed nerves, but my efforts proved futile. The frustration was overwhelming. I detested him, yet I loathed myself even more for still being affected. I had believed I was ready to face him, to confront him. But there I was, concealing myself. How frustrating. My vision blurred, and I silently implored, "Please don't cry, not here." Blinking away the tears, I tried to summon pleasant memories, but Nathan's visage overshadowed them. The door creaked open, and Shane poked his head in. "What are you doing here? Are you feeling unwell?" "No, and you?" I replied hesitantly, concealing my inner turmoil. "Chris mentioned that you seemed off," she remarked, evidently not convinced by my facade. "I assure you I'm fine," I insisted, forcing a smile. "Okay, if you say so," she said before withdrawing. As she was about to shut the door, her eyes widened. "Oh, I almost forgot. Someone's looking for you." "Who?" "I'm not sure. They're seated at table 10." It was Nathan's table, and my heartbeats grew acute. Why was he seeking me out? "Please inform them that I'm occupied," I requested, my discomfort rising. Not prying further, Shane left the room, leaving me to grapple with my apprehensions. I was in my third year of college when Nathan came into my life. While working part-time at 7-Eleven, I would often notice him at the waiting shed where I awaited my bus after my shift. He was a consistent presence under the shed. Unlike me, he wasn't waiting for the bus; a black car always picked him up. I assumed he was a businessman working nearby. We never exchanged words until that fateful day. Caught in a downpour while heading to the waiting shed from work, I was drenched. It was then that our eyes met briefly, and he spoke to me for the first time. "Hey," his voice rang out. As I turned, he offered me his umbrella. "Use this." "No, it's okay! You shouldn't be without it," I protested. "I'm being picked up. You need it more." Reluctantly, I accepted the umbrella, watching in silence as he departed without a backward glance. Though his gesture was simply one of kindness, it left a lasting impression on me.. The following day, after work, I sought him out at the waiting shed and returned his umbrella. "Thanks for yesterday." He glanced briefly at the umbrella before fixing his gaze into the distance. "Keep it." "It's yours—" I began, only to be interrupted. "I'm giving it to you," he asserted, and as his ride arrived, he left without further explanation. That marked the beginning of our unconventional interactions. Our fleeting conversations grew steadily in frequency, and my feelings for him deepened unexpectedly. "I have feelings for you," I confessed to Nathan. His eyes widened momentarily before resuming their usual impassive state. "Do you want to be with me?" he asked, taking me by surprise. "Why are you asking that? I just confessed," I replied, bewildered by his serious demeanor. "So, is that a no?" he inquired, maintaining an unwavering gaze that left me uncertain if he was jesting. "I-I do," I replied, averting my eyes. "Then we're together," he declared. And thus, our relationship commenced. Initially, I harbored doubts, fearing he may have felt coerced. However, whenever we were together, all my worries melted away. My love for him only deepened. As time went on, Nathan's hectic schedule began to take its toll. Our once frequent meetups soon dwindled to just weekends, yet my devotion to him remained steadfast. As the fourth month rolled around, Nathan explained that his upcoming schedule would be incredibly demanding, making it impossible for us to spend time together. Although I empathized with his situation, I couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease. For an entire month, our only form of contact was through sporadic text messages and brief phone calls, until one day, his messages suddenly ceased. The day prior before our sixth month anniversary, I was caught off guard by a message from Nathan. I was overjoyed and relieved to know he was okay and contacting me again. It was the end of my shift when he messaged, asking to meet at the waiting shed. Eager to see him, I rushed to the waiting shed despite the heavy rain. However, my elation quickly turned to anguish when he uttered those soul-crushing words: "We're done." With no further explanation, he swiftly retreated to a waiting car, leaving me standing alone in the rain, bewildered and heartbroken. To this day, I still can't comprehend why he did that. Moments passed before I gathered myself to return at the dining area. I can't stay here. Despite the turmoil within me, I knew I had to push aside my personal turmoil and return to work. Push back your feelings for now Bella. As I made my way back to the counter, I spotted him leaving. Our eyes met briefly before he turned away and vanish through the door. I felt a mix of relief and conflict about the possibility of encountering him again—and I despised myself for it.