Accidentally Yours

CHAPTER ELEVEN

That night, Mira couldn’t stay still.

She tried reading.

She tried listening to music.

She even tried writing her notes for school.

Pero kahit anong gawin niya, bumabalik pa rin ang buong araw sa isip niya—

Lance ignoring her sa umaga…

Lance avoiding her sa school…

Lance walking away twice.

Dalawang beses.

Sa iisang araw.

Her chest throbbed with something that didn’t feel fair.

“Kailangan ko siyang kausapin,” she whispered to herself. “Hindi puwedeng ganito nalang.”

She wasn’t asking for anything impossible, right?

Just… clarity.

Honesty.

Respect.

A little kindness.

She wasn’t asking him to feel the same.

(Though the thought alone made her heart twist.)

Ang gusto lang niya ay yung totoo na tinatago niya sa likod ng katahimikan.

LIGHTS were dim.

Only the lamp in the living room was on, casting a soft, warm glow over the furniture.

Mira stepped down quietly — pero half-expecting na ando’n si Lance.

And she was right.

Nakasandal siya sa sofa, still in his work clothes, eyes closed, head tilted back.

Parang drained.

Parang hindi nakahinga buong araw.

She hesitated.

Then spoke, softly—

“Lance.”

His eyes opened slowly, and the moment he saw her, something flickered in his expression—

Surprise.

Then guilt.

Then… that guardedness he kept using like armor.

“What are you doing down here?” he asked, voice quiet.

“Can we talk?”

He looked away. “It’s late.”

“All the more reason to stop running.”

That made him freeze.

He sat up straight, brows tightening. “Wala akong tinatakbuhan.”

“Lance,” she said, stepping closer, “you’ve been avoiding me the whole day.”

He didn’t answer.

“You wouldn’t look at me this morning. You left without finishing breakfast. You couldn’t even walk through the door without saying ‘please don’t.’”

Her voice cracked a little.

“If you don’t want me around,” she said carefully, “just say it.”

Lance’s jaw tightened.

Hard.

Like she hit the one nerve he’s been protecting all day.

“Mira,” he said, voice controlled but cracking at the edges, “that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

Silence.

This time, she didn’t fill it.

She let him sit with it.

His hands curled into fists.

Finally, he said—

“You’re making this harder.”

“Harder for who?” she whispered. “For you… or for me?”

He lifted his eyes to hers — and for the first time, he didn’t hide anything.

Not the fear.

Not the tension.

Not the longing he was desperately trying to bury.

“I’m trying to protect you,” he said softly. “Ayokong masaktan ka. Ayokong—”

He stopped.

Swallowed.

Mira’s breath hitched.

“Lance…”

“That’s why I said we can’t keep acting like this,” he murmured. “Kasi kapag nagtagal pa—”

He closed his eyes, voice breaking,

“—I’m scared I won’t be able to stop myself.”

She felt her knees weaken.

Not from fear.

But because for the first time, she understood:

He wasn’t pushing her away because he didn’t feel anything.

He was pushing her away

because he felt too much.

Mira stepped closer — not touching, just close enough that he felt her presence.

“You don’t have to protect me from you,” she whispered.

Lance’s eyes opened.

“But you do,” he said hoarsely. “Because if I don’t draw a line… I’m scared you’ll cross it with me.”

Her breath caught.

The room felt too small for both their hearts.

“Lance,” she whispered, voice trembling, “you’re hurting me more with your silence than anything you’re afraid of.”

He flinched.

And for the first time,

he looked like the one breaking.

“Mira, please,” he whispered, voice cracking, “stop.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know how to stop wanting something I’m not allowed to have.”

The words ripped the air open.

Mira couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t speak.

All she could do was feel the ache she’d been denying burst open like a tidal wave.

He stood abruptly, stepping back as if being close to her burned.

“Mira… I can’t do this,” he said, voice almost a plea.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

“Lance… look at me.”

He shook his head.

“Lance.”

Slowly, painfully, he looked up.

Her eyes were glassy.

His were tired.

Both holding everything they were never supposed to admit.

“We’ll destroy each other,” he whispered.

“But we’re already breaking,” she answered.

He inhaled sharply.

Then—

just like last night—

he turned away.

Walked past her.

Didn’t look back.

And Mira stood there, tears finally falling in the one place they’d both been trying to avoid:

the truth.