I love that you were mine

Chapter 3

It’s funny how life always finds a way to drag you out of your comfortable little routine, no matter how much you try to avoid it. My days had been slipping into a rhythm that I couldn’t help but enjoy. I worked from home, built websites for a living—remotely, of course. The perks? I had the freedom to do what I wanted, when I wanted. I could work from the couch, my bed, or even a coffee shop if the mood struck. And, over the past few weeks, the coffee shop had become my second office. It was peaceful, a perfect little escape from the demands of coding and deadlines.

But today? Today was different. Today, I wasn’t sitting in that familiar corner of the shop with my coffee in hand, lost in the soothing sound of espresso machines humming in the background. No, today I was in the middle of nowhere, flying halfway across the world for a business trip that came up unexpectedly—and for a cousin’s wedding back in our hometown in the Philippines.

The thought of attending a wedding, surrounded by a hundred relatives who hadn’t seen me in years, was already enough to make me dread the trip. I knew what was coming. I could already hear the well-meaning, slightly judgmental questions from my aunties.

“So, Aaron, when are you going to settle down? When are we going to see a nice lady in your life?”

I could already feel my palms sweating at the thought.

---

The flight was long and uncomfortable, my mind swirling with thoughts of what lay ahead. I’d missed the Philippines—sure, but there was something about being away from home for so long that made the visit feel a bit… forced. The minute I stepped off the plane, I was met with the familiar heat, the chaotic energy, and the flood of memories that came with it. It felt like a different world—one where time moved slower, and everything was a little bit louder.

When I finally arrived at the wedding venue, it was like stepping into an over-the-top, romantic comedy. The decorations, the food, the loud music—it was all too much, but it was familiar in a comforting, almost overwhelming way.

I was greeted by cousins I hadn’t seen in years—some I didn’t even recognize at first. A few of them were already married with kids, and I could feel their eyes on me, sizing me up like they were trying to figure out when I was going to “catch up” to them.

It wasn’t long before I found myself cornered by Aunt Teresa. She was the one who always had the most questions, and today was no different. She appeared from the crowd with a big smile and a giant hug, like she hadn’t seen me in a decade—when, in reality, it had only been a few years.

“Well, well, well, look at you! Still the same charming guy we all remember. But,” she leaned in closer, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “you’re not getting any younger, you know. When are you going to bring home a nice girl?”

I forced a smile, trying to suppress my laughter. “Aunt Teresa, you know how it is. I’m focusing on work right now, just keeping busy.”

She wasn’t buying it. “Busy? Busy with websites and coffee shops, huh?” She glanced over her shoulder, then back at me with a twinkle in her eye. “You’ve got to stop hiding behind that computer screen, Aaron. The world is waiting for you.”

I groaned internally. “I’m just not in the right place for that, Aunt. I haven’t met anyone yet.”

“Oh, please,” she laughed. “You’ve got women fawning over you wherever you go. Don’t give me that nonsense. All I’m saying is, you better start thinking about your future.”

I tried to laugh it off. “I am thinking about my future, Aunt. Just… one step at a time.”

But she wasn’t going to let me off the hook that easily. “Well, your cousins are all getting married, and I just think it’s time for you to follow suit, don’t you think?”

I could feel the pressure building up. In typical Aunt Teresa fashion, she wasn’t letting go until she had an answer. “Are you sure you don’t have a girlfriend? There must be someone special, huh?”

Before I could respond, I was rescued by my cousin, Marco, who had appeared just in time. Marco was the life of the party, the kind of guy who could make anyone laugh, even if they didn’t want to. He grabbed my shoulder, pulling me away from Aunt Teresa’s relentless questioning.

“Aaron! There you are! I see you’ve been hiding from your adoring fans,” Marco joked, nudging me playfully. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you a drink. Let’s go.”

I let out a sigh of relief as I followed him toward the bar.

---

We spent the next hour mingling with distant relatives, most of whom I didn’t recognize. They were all asking me the same questions, rehashing the same old “When are you getting married?” routine. It was like a broken record, and by the time I had finished my second drink, I was seriously considering making my exit.

But then, something unexpected happened.

Marco, ever the troublemaker, had managed to get his hands on the microphone. He wasn’t exactly the best singer, but he had a certain charm to him that made people laugh. And tonight, he decided it was time for a little karaoke.

“Alright, Aaron, your turn!” he said, shoving the mic in my face.

“Wait, what?” I stammered. “I can’t sing.”

“Oh, come on, you’re not getting out of this,” he said, grinning. “Just pick a song.”

I looked around at the faces of my relatives, who were all waiting expectantly. I had no choice. I grabbed the mic, my mind racing for something that wouldn’t make me look like a complete i***t.

I picked something simple—“I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor. It wasn’t a song I was passionate about, but it was lighthearted enough to make everyone laugh. And that’s exactly what happened.

The crowd burst into laughter as I belted out the lyrics, all the while trying my best to ignore the intense stare of my aunties in the audience, as if they were trying to see if my singing could somehow reveal whether or not I was ready to settle down.

---

After the performance, which I’m sure no one will let me live down, I found a quiet corner to catch my breath. The music had been loud, the energy high, but it had been… fun. For once, I didn’t feel the weight of expectations so heavily on my shoulders.

I leaned back in the chair and glanced around the room. People were laughing, dancing, and having fun. And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t thinking about work or the coffee shop or that barista who had somehow invaded my thoughts.

I was just… here. Present. And, weirdly enough, it felt good.

---

As the night wore on, I found myself in a deep conversation with Marco about life, love, and everything in between. He was the type of guy who could talk for hours without getting bored, and I found myself actually enjoying it. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just the escape from the relentless questions about my love life, but whatever it was, I felt more at ease than I had in weeks.

I knew one thing for sure, though—no matter how much my relatives teased me, no matter how many times they asked about my “future,” I was starting to realize that maybe it was okay not to have everything figured out yet.

Maybe I didn’t need to be married with kids to feel like I was on the right path.

For now, I was just going to enjoy the night.

As the night wore on, the karaoke session had ended, and the music began to fade into the background, leaving behind a gentle hum of conversations and clinking glasses. Marco and I were still at the corner of the hall, now leaning against a wall, nursing our drinks. He was animated as ever, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke.

"You know, Aaron, the thing about marriage is," Marco said with a sly grin, "it's like picking your favorite pair of shoes. You can’t just go for the first one you see. You need to try them on, walk around in them, and make sure they fit."

I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. “Is that how you view marriage? A pair of shoes?”

“Why not?” he said with a shrug. “It’s the same concept. You want something that’s comfortable, that works with you, something you can wear every day without getting sick of it. That’s why I think I’m ready to settle down.”

I blinked, genuinely surprised. “You? Ready to settle down? I thought you were the one who said you were never getting married.”

He laughed and ran a hand through his messy hair. “Yeah, I used to say that. But now… well, you know how it is. I’m getting older, and maybe it’s time for something real. Who knows? I’m thinking of asking Ana soon. I mean, she’s the one, right?”

“Is she?” I asked, genuinely curious. “I mean, I thought you were still playing the field.”

Marco smiled, a soft, almost nostalgic look in his eyes. “No, I’ve been with Ana for two years now. I think it’s time, don’t you?”

I nodded slowly, unsure of what to say. I’d never really thought much about Marco settling down. He was always the wild one in our family—carefree, spontaneous, and always jumping from one adventure to the next. To hear him talk about commitment so seriously caught me off guard. I was also a bit envious of how sure he was.

It made me think about my own life. How had I gotten so off track, always running from commitment, always thinking I wasn’t ready? It was funny. Here I was, in my mid-thirties, a successful man with a career that allowed me to do whatever I wanted, yet I couldn’t seem to make a decision about anything serious.

And I still hadn’t figured out why that coffee shop barista had me in such a twist.

---

As the evening went on, the wedding festivities continued, but my mind wandered back to the conversation with Marco. The idea of settling down, of finding someone to share your life with, seemed so simple when Marco talked about it. I was happy for him, of course, but there was something nagging at me.

It wasn’t just the teasing from my relatives. It wasn’t even the fact that they were all expecting me to “catch up” and get married too. It was something deeper. Something I hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.

I was adopted.

It wasn’t something I brought up often. To most people, I was just another guy with a successful career, good looks, and a reputation for being a bit of a player. I liked it that way—kept people from asking too many personal questions. But at times like this, when I was back in the place where I grew up, surrounded by family who knew the story, it always felt like a piece of me was missing.

My adoptive parents, Helen and Steve, were kind people. They’d given me a wonderful life—raised me with love and care—but there were always small moments when I felt like I didn’t fully belong. Growing up, I’d always wondered if my birth parents would have been like me, if they would’ve made the same choices I did, or if they even thought about me at all.

The truth was, I didn’t know much about them. I didn’t know why they gave me up or what their lives were like. And no matter how many times Helen and Steve told me they were my real family, I still had this gnawing sense of curiosity about my biological roots. Was I really meant to be here? Was this really my place?

Maybe that’s why I’d avoided anything serious when it came to relationships. I didn’t want to get too close to someone, to let someone in, only to leave them—or worse, have them leave me. I’d seen what happened when my adoptive parents struggled with their own feelings of inadequacy, and I’d seen the way my father would sometimes hide his emotions when things got tough.

But tonight, amidst all the family drama and the constant reminder that I was “getting old,” it hit me that I was still running from something. And I had no idea what.

---

The reception went on late into the night, but I decided to step outside for some fresh air. The moon was bright over the countryside, casting a soft glow on the path leading from the venue. I walked along the cobblestone road, trying to clear my head. The cool breeze helped, but the thoughts still lingered.

Just as I was lost in my thoughts, Marco caught up with me, his expression more serious than usual.

“You good?” he asked, looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

I nodded. “Just needed some air.”

He shrugged and looked out at the stars. “Yeah, I get that. Sometimes, things just feel too heavy, huh?”

“Yeah,” I replied, feeling the weight of his words. “Too heavy.”

Marco stood next to me in silence for a few moments before speaking again, this time with a hint of vulnerability. “I get it, you know. Being adopted, I mean. I’m not in your shoes, but I understand the feeling of not quite fitting in. That’s why I wanted to talk to you tonight. I know you think you’ve got it all figured out, but—”

I cut him off, not wanting to hear more of the “settle down” talk. “I don’t know, Marco. Maybe I’m not ready. Maybe I’ve been running from the things that really matter.”

He chuckled softly. “Look, I’m not trying to pressure you into anything. But you know, you don’t have to keep running. At some point, you have to let go of the past. You can’t let what you didn’t have hold you back from what you could have in the future.”

I looked at him, processing his words. He was right, in a way. I’d been so caught up in my own insecurities, in the idea that I wasn’t good enough for someone, that I’d missed the possibility that maybe, just maybe, I was worth the effort.

“I hear you, Marco,” I said quietly. “I really do.”

He clapped me on the back, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Good. Now, let’s go back before Aunt Teresa starts asking if you’re ever going to get married again.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, let’s go.”

---

As we walked back to the reception, I couldn’t shake the thoughts that had been swirling in my head. The pressure to settle down, to make choices that would lead me to a stable life. But more than that, I couldn’t stop thinking about that barista. The one who had made me feel like I was just another guy in the crowd.

Maybe, just maybe, it was time for me to take a real chance. Not just on love—but on myself.

But that would have to wait. For now, I was back in the midst of family chaos, dodging questions about my future.

The night was far from over.