CHAPTER TEN
766 Words
Umaga na.
Pero hindi iyon ’yung tipong refreshing na umaga.
It was the kind that felt heavy, like the sun rose too early and everything inside Mira still felt like midnight.
Mira moved slowly as she fixed her uniform, eyes puffy kahit hindi naman siya umiyak kagabi. She didn’t even remember falling asleep — just lying there, replaying every word Lance said until it hurt to breathe.
She went down the stairs quietly, hoping walang makakapansin ng bigat ng dibdib niya.
Pero pagdating niya sa dining area, naroon siya.
Lance.
Already dressed, hair still damp from a shower, coffee cup in hand.
He didn’t look up.
Mira swallowed. “Good morning.”
“Morning.”
Flat. Simple. Like last night never happened.
She sat across from him. The clink of her spoon against the bowl felt too loud. Air felt too thin. She could barely taste the food.
For a moment, she thought maybe he would say something—
maybe he’d look at her, or apologize, or even pretend to check on her the way he used to.
But he stayed still.
Calm.
Untouched.
As if she wasn’t even there.
Her chest tightened.
Her mom entered the room, cheerful as always.
“Good morning! Lance, hijo, salamat sa pagdrayb kay Mira kahapon—”
He stood abruptly.
“No need to thank me,” he said quietly. “Maalis na ako.”
He didn’t even finish breakfast.
Didn’t glance at her.
Didn’t wait.
Mira stared at the empty space he left behind, spoon hanging limply from her fingers.
“Tulog pa yata siya,” her mom chuckled, unaware. “Mukhang pagod sa work.”
Mira forced a smile, shaky. “Oo… siguro.”
But she knew better.
He wasn’t tired.
He was avoiding her.
HER stepdad offered to take her to school, but Mira insisted mag-walk na lang siya with Trixie. She didn’t want any more empty car rides, not after last night.
Paglabas niya ng bahay, she hesitated—
and that’s when she saw him again.
Lance was by his car, leaning on the driver’s side door, arms crossed.
Like he’d been waiting for a moment… just not one where they were close enough to talk.
Their eyes met for a millisecond.
Mira felt her heart jump—
but Lance looked away first.
He got in the car without a word.
Engine on.
Car pulling away.
No goodbye.
No glance back.
Just… gone.
Parang binuhusan ng malamig na hangin ang buong paligid.
For the first time since she moved in, Mira felt like she didn’t belong there.
Not because of the house.
Not because of her parents.
But because of him.
“GIRL, you okay?” Trixie asked as they walked toward the gate.
Andre squinted at her. “You look… hindi naman pagod, pero parang may iniisip.”
Mira forced a laugh. “Late lang ako natulog.”
But her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
While her friends chatted about their next project, Mira stared at her phone.
No new messages.
Of course.
She opened the old message thread with Lance — the one with only two messages:
> Good luck. Don’t be late. — Lance
Thanks…
She locked her phone quickly, chest tightening.
Why did he have to say those things last night?
Why did he have to break the spell—
the fragile, warm thing they were building—
just when she was starting to trust him?
Why did he have to care awkwardly one second
and push her away the next?
And why, why did it hurt so much
when she knew this was exactly what they both feared?Umaga na.
Pero hindi iyon ’yung tipong refreshing na umaga.
It was the kind that felt heavy, like the sun rose too early and everything inside Mira still felt like midnight.
MIRA got home early.
Tahimik ang bahay; her mom was still at work, Alfred had a meeting.
She dropped her bag on the couch and sighed, rubbing her eyes.
But then—
the front door opened.
Lance.
He froze when he saw her.
She froze too.
For a moment, neither of them breathed.
He cleared his throat, walking past her toward the stairs, expression neutral.
But as he reached the first step, Mira whispered,
so soft she wasn’t sure he’d hear—
“Lance…”
His hand tightened on the railing.
For the first time since last night, something flickered in his eyes.
Guilt.
Restraint.
Hurt.
But he didn’t turn around.
He just said, voice low—
“Mira… please don’t.”
And then he went upstairs.
Leaving her standing there.
Again.
- Writer
