Chapter 9 | The Application
1077 Words
Cassie's POV
_He typed my story and hit submit._
Sunday night.
My shop wasn’t empty anymore.
₱12,000 was in my drawer.
₱8,000 for rent.
₱4,000 for restock.
For life.
And Dante was fired.
Because of me.
I couldn’t breathe right.
“ Mimi, sleep na,” Dante’s voice came from 4B.
“Pero Ate Cass is sad,” Mimi answered. Small. Worried.
I wasn’t sad.
I was terrified.
I walked to 4B. Didn’t knock.
The door was open anyway.
Dante was at the sink. Washing dishes.
His gray hoodie was on. Sleeves rolled up.
No job to go to tomorrow.
No shift. No salary. No safety net.
Just me.
“Dante.”
He didn’t turn.
“Eat first.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Then sit.”
I sat.
At his table.
The same table where we ate arroz caldo.
Where Mimi drew sunflowers.
Where I cried twice.
“I have the money,” I said. Voice shaking.
“₱12,000.”
“I know.”
“I can pay you back. The ₱3,600. The ₱1,350. All of it.”
He put the plate down. Turned off the faucet.
Water dripped once. Twice.
“Don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t give it to you to get it back.”
“That’s stupid,” I said. Tears stinging.
“You’re unemployed.”
“Temporarily.”
“How? You burned the bridge.”
“I’ll build another one.”
He dried his hands on a towel. Looked at me.
Really looked.
“Stop, Cassie.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop trying to pay me back for being human.”
The words hit me in the chest.
Mimi came out of the room. Rubbing her eyes. Hair a mess.
“Are you fighting again?”
“No, baby,” I said fast. Too fast.
Dante crouched in front of her.
“Ate Cass is just loud.”
Mimi giggled. Sleepy.
“You’re both loud.”
She climbed on my lap. Heavy. Warm.
“Ate Cass, can we keep you?”
My heart stopped.
“Baby, I can’t—”
“Why not?” Dante asked.
He was still crouched. Eyes on me. Not Mimi.
I looked up. At him.
“Because I’m temporary, Dante,” I whispered.
“People leave me.”
“My mom left too,” Mimi said. Matter-of-fact. Like she was talking about the weather.
“But Daddy stayed. And you stayed.
So you’re not temporary.”
Dante didn’t look away from me.
“Is she right?” he asked.
I didn’t answer.
Because if I said yes, I’d cry.
And if I said no, I’d lie.
---
At 10PM, Mimi was asleep.
The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.
Dante opened his laptop at the table.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Dreame,” he said.
I blinked.
“What?”
“You write,” he said. Like it was obvious.
“Write this.”
“Write what?”
“Us. The shop. The faucet. The hospital. The ₱50.”
“Dante, I’m not a writer—”
“You are,” he cut me off.
“You tell stories with flowers.
Tell one with words.”
He pulled up Dreame Author.
The screen glowed in the dark kitchen.
“Chapter 1 to 8. Upload.”
“Dante—”
“Cassie.”
His voice was low. Final.
“You were ₱2,150 short yesterday.
Today you have ₱12,000.
You think that’s luck?
It’s you. Your story.
People buy it.”
My hands shook.
“What if they reject me?”
“Then we try again,” he said. Simple.
“Like we did with the flowers.”
He typed for me. Fingers sure.
`Book Title: The Single Dad Next Door`
`Genre: Contemporary Romance`
`Trope: Grumpy x Sunshine, Single Dad, Neighbor`
“Blurb,” he said.
I stared at the blinking cursor. Blank.
He typed:
`He said “Go away.”`
`She stayed.`
`A grumpy chef. A loud florist. And a 5-year-old who decided they were family.`
`Cassie Torres has 2 months of rent and 0 hope.`
`Dante Morales has a daughter, a broken sink, and walls too high to climb.`
`When Mimi gets sick, Cassie doesn’t leave.`
`When rent is due, Dante stands on a sidewalk and yells “Sunflowers!”`
`This isn’t a love story yet.`
`It’s a family, learning how to start.`
I read it. Twice.
My throat closed.
“That’s us,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
He clicked Submit.
`Chapter 1 to 8. 9,900 words.`
`Status: Uploading...`
`Status: Submitted.`
My chest felt light. Heavy. Both.
Like I was falling and flying at the same time.
“Dante.”
“What?”
“What if this works?”
He leaned back in the chair. Looked tired.
But not the tired from 3 years ago.
This was different.
“Then we eat,” he said.
“And Mimi gets vitamins.”
“And you buy new shears for the shop.”
He shrugged. “We live.”
He closed the laptop.
Silence settled. Comfortable. For once.
“Thank you,” I said.
“For what?”
“For believing I have a story.”
He didn’t answer right away.
He just stood. Walked to the counter.
Came back with a mug of water.
And a sunflower.
Fresh. From my shop.
The one I left at his door last week.
“Keep it or trash it,” he said.
Echoing me from Chapter 2.
I kept it.
Held it to my chest like a promise.
At 11PM, my phone buzzed.
*Dreame:*
`Your book "The Single Dad Next Door" is under review.`
`Est. 3-5 days.`
I showed Dante.
He nodded.
“Good.”
“Dante.”
“What?”
“What happens in 3-5 days?”
He looked at Mimi’s room.
Then at me.
At the sunflower in my hands.
“We wait,” he said.
The word hit me.
_We._
Because 9 days ago, I was alone with ₱47.
Crying over bills.
Now I had ₱12,000.
A book under review.
A chef who quit his job for me.
A kid who asked to keep me.
Monday was tomorrow.
Rent was due.
But I wasn’t scared.
Because Dante Morales, the man who said “Go away,”
just said “We wait.”
And for the first time in a long time,
I believed him.
_End of Chapter 9_
- Writer
