THE DESIGNER'S PRESCRIPTION

PROLOGUE 1.B

Iniwas ko ang tingin ko sa kanya at nagkunwaring nag-aayos ng listahan sa counter.

"Stop acting like we didn't know each other before, Miles."

Nagulat ako sa sinabi niya. Nanigas ako sa kinatatayuan ko at dahan-dahang napatingin sa kanya. His eyes were cold but they were piercing through my soul. He said my name like it was a heavy burden, a name he hadn't spoken in a decade.

"I am here for a gown, but don't pretend that I am just another stranger walking into your shop," dagdag pa niya.

I felt a lump in my throat. Ang tapang na binuo ko sa loob ng sampung taon ay tila naglaho sa isang pangungusap lang niya. I wanted to deny it. I wanted to tell him that he was wrong. Pero paano ko gagawin iyon kung ang mismong presensya niya ay sapat na para bumalik lahat ng sakit?

"Pasensya na, Doc. I am just being professional here," sagot ko habang pilit na ibinalik ang lamig sa aking mga mata.

I looked at his black watch and then back to his face. Hindi ko alam kung bakit siya narito. Out of all the designers in the city, why did he have to choose me? Bakit kailangan niyang bumalik sa panahong maayos na ang lahat?

"Is she coming? Your fiancé?" I asked again, trying to change the topic.

Huminga ako nang malalim at pilit na ibinaling ang atensyon sa mga rack ng puting tela. Ayaw kong lunurin ang sarili ko sa mga mata niya. I need to remain professional. I need to be the successful Miles they know, not the broken version of me that he once held.

"Wala rito ang fiancé mo, Doc. I think it's better if she's the one choosing the design," matigas kong sabi habang hindi tumitingin sa kanya.

I started to walk away because the silence between us was becoming too loud. Pero bago pa ako tuluyang makalayo, naramdaman ko ang paghinto ng lahat ng ingay sa paligid ko. The world suddenly stood still when he spoke.

"Ikaw sana ang papakasalan ko ngayon," bulong niya.

Sapat na ang hina ng boses niya para mawasak ang pader na sampung taon kong itinayo. I froze. Hindi ko alam kung paano huminga. The words hung in the air like a ghost from the past, reminding me that no matter how much I succeed, there is still a part of me that is stuck in the moment he left.

I didn't look back. I couldn't. I just stood there, clutching my sketchpad, feeling the weight of the life we almost had.