Chapter 6
1167 Words
Pagpasok ng elevator, Mikaela’s composure cracked the moment the doors slid shut.
She leaned her back against the cold wall, pressing the heel of her palm against her chest, as if trying to steady the ache that flared up without warning. Her throat tightened, vision blurring with unshed tears.
And when the elevator reached her floor, she stepped out quickly, head bowed, hoping no one would see the storm brewing behind her carefully drawn eyeliner.
But fate had other plans.
“Miks?” Chinky’s voice called out, surprised. She had just exited the pantry, holding her tumbler and a pack of Skyflakes.
Mikaela froze.
“Mikaela, are you crying?” Chinky’s eyes widened, her tone shifting from casual to concerned. She quickly walked over and took Mikaela’s arm. “Uy, what happened?”
Mikaela shook her head, brushing past her friend. “Nothing, okay? I'm just… tired.”
“Tired?” Chinky blinked. “Girl, you literally look like you just came from a heartbreak scene sa teleserye. Bakit ganyan yung mata mo?”
“Hindi ko lang siguro natiis yung pagod,” Mikaela muttered, not meeting her gaze. She pushed the door to her office open, stepped in, and was about to close it behind her when Chinky gently stopped it with her hand.
“Are you sure you’re okay? Did someone say something? May nangyari ba sa boardroom?”
“I said I’m fine,” Mikaela said sharply. Then her tone softened when she saw the hurt flicker in Chinky’s face. “Sorry. I just… I just need to be alone.”
Chinky hesitated for a second, then gave her a small nod. “Okay. But if you want to talk, kahit mamaya or bukas or next month — I’m here, Miks. Always.”
Mikaela managed a grateful smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I know.”
Then she shut the door and locked it.
She leaned against it for a moment, breathing hard, and then finally — finally — let herself fall apart.
She slid to the floor, knees pulled up to her chest, and sobbed.
The kind of sobs na walang ingay, pero ramdam mo yung bigat. Yung tipong lumulubog ka habang ginigiling ng emosyon ang puso mo. Her hands trembled as they covered her mouth, as if trying to muffle the cries that broke free anyway.
She thought she had moved on.
She thought na wala na siyang mararamdaman, na kaya na niyang harapin si Brent nang matatag.
But that meeting… that stupid, painful, necessary meeting… cracked open something inside her.
And what spilled out was fury, grief, heartbreak — all the things she had carefully packed away through the years.
Ang sakit pa rin pala.
Hindi na para sa kaniya si Brent, and she didn’t want him back — pero ang sakit pa rin ng ginawa niya. Ang sakit ng iniwan siya nang walang paliwanag. Ang sakit ng walang closure. Ang sakit ng panggugulo niya ulit ngayon na maayos na sana lahat.
Mikaela cried until her chest ached and her tears dried on her cheeks.
Then she stood up, went to the sink in her private bathroom, and washed her face.
She stared at her reflection for a moment — eyes red, nose pink, lips trembling — and then gave herself a hard look.
“No more,” she whispered. “You already gave him your tears once. You don’t owe him more.”
After that, Mikaela did what she knew best: she drowned herself in work.
The rest of the day blurred into a flurry of tasks. Emails. Printouts. Client calls. Scheduling meetings. Proofreading reports. Everything she could possibly do — she did.
Bumalik siya sa pagiging efficient robot na walang nararamdaman.
Chinky passed by a few more times, peeking in with her usual snack offerings, but Mikaela always smiled politely and said, “Later, promise. I just need to finish this lang.”
But there was always another thing to finish.
And another.
And another.
Hanggang sa uwian na, hindi pa rin siya tumigil.
Even when most of the employees had gone home and the lights were being switched off on other floors, Mikaela stayed behind in her small pool of desk light, fingers flying over the keyboard.
Her eyes burned, not from crying this time, but from the sheer exhaustion of overworking herself.
At one point, Martin called.
She stared at the screen as his name flashed: Martin – Love.
Her thumb hovered over the green button.
But she didn’t press it.
Not yet.
Instead, she let it ring until it stopped. She couldn’t talk to him. Not like this. Not when she wasn’t ready to explain why her heart felt like it had been pulled from an old wound and scraped raw.
“Not now,” she whispered.
She picked up her pen again, but the words on the paper blurred. Her mind wandered back to the boardroom. To Brent’s voice. The way he looked at her. The way he said she was stronger than he deserved.
She hated that part of her still cared. Hated that she still felt something — even if it was anger.
Because wasn’t indifference supposed to mean you’d healed?
And yet, here she was, fighting to keep herself from falling apart again.
The days that followed were more of the same.
Monday, she buried herself in reports.
Tuesday, she volunteered to oversee two back-to-back meetings for the marketing team kahit hindi niya responsibility.
Wednesday, she filed old records and helped HR coordinate interviews.
By Thursday, even Chinky was starting to worry.
“Girl, ano ba?” Chinky asked, setting down a cup of milk tea on Mikaela’s desk. “You’re literally doing three people’s jobs. You trying to get promoted to President?”
Mikaela gave her a tight smile. “Distraction is productivity.”
“Or a one-way ticket to burnout. Spill na kasi. Anong meron? You haven’t had lunch with Martin all week, and you barely reply sa GC natin, Hindi ka ‘yan, Mikaela.”
“I just need to get through this week,” she said, eyes glued to her screen.
Chinky frowned, watching her. “You sure this is about work? Wala ka namang na-kwento na may bagong big project or client. At hindi ka rin ganyan kapag promo season.”
Mikaela hesitated. Her fingers hovered above the keyboard. “Wala lang. Sometimes things just… pile up.”
Chinky tilted her head, studying her face. “Okay. Pero promise me one thing?”
“What?”
“That you’re not burying something heavy by pretending you're fine.”
Mikaela’s lips parted — for a moment, she almost said it. Almost told her about Brent. About the confrontation. About the years-old wound that just got ripped open again.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she smiled, this time a little softer. “Promise.”
Chinky wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t push further. “Okay. Basta andito lang ako ha. Kahit di mo sabihin, andito lang ako.”
- Writer
