4.I'll prove it to you
1226 Words
Sevy POV
Kyla walked in five minutes before the pitch, holding two coffees.
“Morning, Mr. Guerrero,” she teased. Kaya naman malamig na tingin nag ipinukol ko sa 'kanya.
“Relax, I brought yours. Black. No sugar. Like your mood today.”
I took the cup and sat down. Didn’t even crack a smile.
She raised an eyebrow. “Okay… who pissed in your cereal?”
I didn’t answer. My mind was still with Brena—her face when I asked, her silence, the way she didn’t even fight me in the end.
“It’s Brena, huh?”
I looked up, startled.
Kyla shrugged. “Please. I’m not blind. You always smile when you say her name. And last night? You were dead quiet. Hindi ka ‘yon.”
I leaned back in my chair, exhaled hard.
“I messed up, Kyla.”
She nodded slowly. “So fix it.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why? Because she’s older?”
I froze.
“She’s not just older. She’s Brena. She’s... everything. And she still sees me as that kid with braces and a basketball. Do you know how that feels?” may asar na wika ko sa 'kanya.
Kyla leaned forward, expression softening.
“Then show her who you are now. Not the boy she used to babysit. But the man who’s ready to fight for her.” wika niya na ikinanguso ko.
"Oh hayan , basahin mo na muna, para naman malibang ka." saad nito bago inilagay ang mga papeles sa table ko.
Kinuha ko ang mga yun, at binasa ng paulit-ulit. Pero parang walang pumapasok sa utak ko. "s**t!"
“Focus, Sevy,” Kyla snapped her fingers in front of him. “You’ve reviewed this contract three times already. What’s wrong with you?”
He blinked, snapping out of his daze.
“Wala. Gutom lang.”
Kasinungalingan #1 for today.
Truth was, ever since he walked away from Brena in that gym, his mind refused to shut up. Yung mukha nito kahapon—surprised, clueless, hurt—paulit-ulit sa utak niya like a glitch he couldn't reset. "Tang-inang yan." I couldn't help but curse inside my brain.
“Nag-away kayo?” tanong ni Kyla habang pinipirmahan ang folder. She was sharp, and unfortunately, observant.
“Who?” tanong ko.
“Si Brena, obviously.” Kyla crossed her legs and raised a brow. “Every time she’s involved, you start acting like a kicked puppy.”
He rolled his eyes. “We didn’t fight. I just... made things clearer.”
“By walking away in the middle of her sentence?”
Sevy didn’t respond. He stood up instead and grabbed his coffee, half-filled, now cold. Brena’s coffee tasted better. Always did.
He sighed.
“Look, Kyla, can we just finish this pitch for the investors? I want to get this done today.”
Kyla looked at him carefully, then nodded. “Fine. But don’t pretend you’re not thinking about her. It’s annoying.” She said it flatly, but not unkindly.
They spent the next few hours reviewing reports, preparing slide decks, and coordinating calls. Kyla was efficient, focused, and honestly a great partner in business. But every time she'd lean too close or mention dinner meetings, Sevy felt something tighten in his chest—and it wasn’t attraction.
It was guilt.
Because even if Brena said nothing back, even if she didn’t chase him, her silence screamed louder than anything.
6:40 pm nasa labas na sila ng building.
Kyla stood beside me as our driver pulled up. Nang biglang magsalita ito.
“So,” she began, flipping her hair casually. “You told your almost-lover you have a date… and that was me?”
Sevy smirked. “I said I had a date. Didn’t say with who.”
“Well, I hope she doesn’t hate me now.”
“Knowing her?” he replied, his smile fading, “She probably hates me more.”
Kyla grew quiet, then softened. “You know, Sev, you don’t have to prove anything to her. But if you love her—”
“I never said I—”
“You don’t have to. I see it,” she said, sliding into the car. “So does everyone else. Hindi kami bulag o manhid Sevy.."
He stood there a moment longer, letting her words settle into the heavy air.
If you love her…
That was the thing, wasn’t it?
He did. But he wasn’t sure if loving her meant waiting for her to see him as more—
Or learning to walk away if she never will.
Gabing -gabi na ng makarating si Sevy sa condo niya dahil inabot sila ng traffic
The lights were dim. The silence, loud. Sevy kicked off his shoes near the door, dropped his keys on the counter, and sank into his couch with a groan.
The city buzzed outside, but here—inside his place—everything felt muted. Dull. Lifeless.
He grabbed his phone. No new messages.
Of course not.
No “thanks for the coffee theft, kumag.”
No “umuwi ka na ba?”
No anything.
"Hindi mo man lang talaga ako maalala. " he said sadly.
I laid on my bed, scrolling through my phone like a ghost. Every app open, but none of them mattered.
Till he opened his photo gallery.
Bad idea.
But he still did it.
One swipe. Then another.
Photo after photo—there she was.
Brena in her favorite striped blouse, holding an iced coffee, rolling her eyes at him mid-laugh.
Brena sitting cross-legged in his office, helping him color-code inventory sheets.
Brena with bed hair, half-asleep during a 7AM breakfast his mom insisted they attend.
Brena, arms crossed, looking at him like he just said the dumbest thing ever—and loving it anyway.
He paused on a photo she didn’t even know he took.
She was seated by the window, sunlight kissing her skin, lost in thought, stirring her coffee slowly. She looked so peaceful.
So untouchable.
“Ate mo 'ko, okay?”
He whispered the line under his breath. Sarcastic na. Defensive pa.
God, that stung more than he expected.
Hindi niya alam kung galit siya sa kanya o sa sarili niya. Galit na kahit ilang beses na siyang nagpapahiwatig, nagbibirong may laman, nangungulit na may halong pangungusap na sana mabasa na niya—wala pa rin. Para siyang laging kulang. Laging nakakabit ang “pero.”
“Mahal kita, pero mas matanda ka.”
“Gusto kita, pero baka masira ang friendship.”
“May nararamdaman ako, pero baka hindi mo seryosohin.”
Laging may pero. Laging may pader. At siya? Pagod na rin.
But as he stared at her photo again, zooming in just slightly, he realized he’d take all the pero’s in the world if it meant keeping her in his life.
Even if she never says the words back.
He sighed and locked his phone. But before putting it down, he typed one message.
Just one.
“Hope you got home safe.”
He hovered his thumb over the Send button.
Tap.
Message sent.
Then silence again.
I dropped my phone on my chest and stared at the ceiling.
One of these days, Bren. You’ll stop calling me “lil bro.” And when that day comes, I’ll prove it to you...
- Writer
