OUR STORY (BxB)

Chapter 19

-TAMARO-

I stretched, still holding onto the joy bubbling inside me. Today was supposed to be our day—Palawan, blue water, white sand, just us. No cameras, no rehearsals, no rushed mornings. A quiet escape we promised each other.

But the bed beside me was empty.

Roo was gone.

I rose, walked into the living room, and saw Jemuel curled into the couch with a blanket draped over his legs, scrolling through something on his phone.

"Good morning, Jemuel," I said.

He looked up, smiled warmly, and stood to hug me. "Good morning, Tamaro."

His hug was grounding, but I still felt the little ache inside.

"Where is everybody?" I asked, glancing around the dorm. It felt oddly quiet.

Jemuel hesitated for a beat. "Some went out to rest. Others went back home for the day. It's our day off, remember?"

I nodded, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I looked toward our room again, half expecting Roo to walk out with his travel bag and that sheepish smile. But all I could feel was the weight of waiting—and the hope that he still remembered today was supposed to be ours.

"They went outside. You know it's our day off," Jemuel said as he returned to the sofa.

I sat beside him and let my head rest on his shoulder. He didn't move. We watched a video playing softly on his phone, the kind of shared quiet that made everything else feel momentarily distant.

"You're not going out?" I asked.

"Later," he replied. "My parents are coming this afternoon. I'll meet them then." He paused, then looked at me with that teasing glint in his eyes. "How about you? You're going to Palawan today, right?"

My face warmed instantly. I knew that look too well. "What are you thinking, Jemuel?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, the smile already stretching wide across his face. "Just asking."

"Tsk, Akiro has work and I'm just here waiting," I muttered as I stood and left Jemuel's teasing smile behind. The kitchen was quiet. I made breakfast for myself, hoping the simple routine would distract me.

When my phone rang, my heart lifted at the sight of his name.

"Baby," I said, smile blooming.

But his voice on the other end was different—apologetic, weighted.

"Roo, I'm sorry. I can't make it. I might stay here late. Roo... I'm sorry we can't go to Palawan right now."

My excitement vanished. I froze, mind struggling to absorb his words. Disappointment settled over me like a heavy fog, my throat tightening, speechless.

"Roo?" he called gently.

That's when I felt it—the tears sliding down before I even knew they'd begun. I wiped them quickly, held in the ache, tried to sound light.

"It's okay, baby. Maybe next time," I said, voice breaking behind forced cheer. I covered my mouth, swallowed a breath, steadied myself.

"I promise, Roo—next time, we'll go there," he said.

"Don't promise, baby," I whispered, voice shaky. "Because promises might be broken."

I hung up the phone before he could reply.

I sank into the chair, buried my face in my arms, and cried—quietly, helplessly. He called again. I couldn't answer. I didn't want to hear another apology. Not right now.

"Tamaro?" Jemuel's voice was soft behind me.

I didn't move.

He stepped closer, crouched down, and gently pulled my arms away, lifting my chin. Our eyes met—and his widened at the sight of tears streaming down my face.

"What happened? Why are you crying?" he asked, wrapping me in a hug before I could speak. His hold was warm, grounding.

Call me overacting if you want. But damn, it hurts—this kind of hurt when something you've waited for, dreamed of, counted down to, falls apart before it even begins.

"We're not going to Palawan," I choked out between tears. "He can't make it. Jemuel... we planned this for so long. I was excited, and now it's useless. It's all useless."

He said nothing. Just kept rubbing my back as I cried into his shoulder.

"Tamaro, you have to understand," Jemuel said softly. "In our line of work, things change. Schedules shift. Appointments get canceled. You need to be ready for that."

He meant well. He always did. But my head was too full—spinning with emotions I couldn't sort out. His words didn't land. They just hovered, weightless, as I drifted somewhere between anger and disappointment.

After we talked, I returned to our room and collapsed onto the bed. I shut my eyes, hoping for rest, but all I felt was the dull ache behind them. My heart was still heavy. My hope—cracked.

Then my phone rang.

I opened my eyes and glanced at the screen.

Arion.

I hesitated, just for a breath, then answered.

"Arion," I said as I picked up the call.

"Tamaro, are you busy today?" he asked, voice casual.

"No. I'm just here at the dorm. It's our day off."

"Wooh, that's perfect! Let's stroll around. I don't have work either," he said, with that familiar energy. I didn't hesitate. I needed to get out. If I stayed here, I'd end up crying the whole day.

I took a quick shower, dressed, and packed my essentials—wallet, IDs, quiet hope—and just as I was slipping my shoes on, Arion called again.

"I'm outside," he said.

I nodded to no one, heart steadying itself. Before heading out, I stopped by Jemuel's room.

"Jemuel, I'm going out with Arion. I'll call you later," I said softly.

He looked up from his phone. "Okay. Take care."

For now, I've put Akiro out of my mind. The hurt lingers, yes—but I'm tired of waiting, tired of crying.

I stepped out of the building and saw a familiar car parked by the curb. Arion sat behind the wheel, window rolled down, smiling like sunshine didn't cost extra.

I opened the door, and before I could fully climb in, he leaned over and hugged me.

"Arion," I said softly, returning the hug with a smile I wasn't sure was entirely real.

"How are you?" he asked, not starting the engine yet—just watching me with calm eyes.

"I'm... okay?" The words came out unsure, shaky at the edges. Even I didn't believe them.

He didn't push. Just nodded, like he understood more than I was ready to say.

"But it's a little bit late?" I asked, my voice small, barely above the hum of the engine.

Arion glanced at me again, then back at the road, that easy smile still tugging at his lips.

"Late for what?" he said. "There's still time today. Enough for a walk, the sea, maybe even silence."

I wanted to protest, to remind him this trip wasn't meant for him—it was meant for someone else. But his tone was steady, and somehow, it made everything feel possible again.

"I just... I didn't expect this," I whispered.

He reached out, his hand resting lightly over mine without forcing anything. "You needed it. So, I showed up."

I looked out the window, sunlight casting gold across the sidewalks we passed. My heart was still tangled—but in that moment, I let it breathe.

"No, it's not," he said with ease, turning the wheel and shifting lanes. "It only takes about an hour and a half by plane."

Without another word, he changed the route. We were heading to the airport.

I didn't know what to say. My heart was racing with excitement—and something softer, something uncertain. I watched him make a call, voice calm and familiar as he booked a flight for two.

"Arion," I said hesitantly, "I don't have any clothes."

He glanced at me, then laughed—warm and unbothered. "Then we'll shop when we land. Consider it part of the adventure."

I smiled, still stunned. This wasn't the trip I imagined. But maybe... just maybe, it was exactly what I needed.

"Oh, my Tamaro," Arion said with a gentle laugh. "You forgot? I always bring clothes for you wherever I go. They're in the car—just in case."

I smiled wide. That's Arion. Thoughtful. Always prepared. Always caring in the quietest ways.

If I didn't have Akiro, I think... I might have let myself fall in love with him. But my love for Akiro—it's unconditional. Messy. Painful. Real. Even now, when I'm hurting, it's still him I carry in every silence.

As we headed to the airport, I called Jemuel.

"I'm going to Palawan with Arion," I said softly.

He was confused at first, but I knew he'd understand. Jemuel always did.

I didn't message Akiro. Didn't call. I was still upset. Still tangled in disappointment, and maybe—just maybe—I wanted him to feel my absence, too.

Everything felt smooth as we entered through the private entrance of the airport. For the first time today, I forgot the disappointment clinging to me like second skin. I knew Akiro might be angry—that I hadn't told him, hadn't sent a message, hadn't called. But right now? I didn't mind.

I needed to escape reality. Even just for a while.

That's why I had been so excited about going to Palawan with him in the first place. I wanted to breathe. To feel the sun without cameras watching, without media twisting the softness between us. I wanted to rest in a place where no one cared what we were—just two people, in love, in silence.

When Arion asked, I said yes without thinking.

It wasn't about replacing Akiro. It was about finding stillness. About feeling free.

We'd just arrived in Palawan. The hotel was the same one I booked for Akiro and me. I smiled—bitterly, quietly—as the memory surfaced. This place was meant for us.

Instead, it was Arion beside me now, carrying our bags without a word of complaint. We walked toward the room in easy silence. After resting for a while, we decided to eat before heading out to explore.

No cameras. No fans. Just locals going about their day, unfazed by us. It felt refreshing—like I'd stepped out of a frame I was never meant to live in.

And Arion? He didn't try to cheer me up or tell me where to go. He simply followed, letting me lead, letting me breathe. I could be quiet or talk endlessly, and he'd match whatever I needed.

For the first time in a while, I felt like I'd escaped reality.

We stayed out until midnight, letting laughter chase away the weight of the day. By the time we returned to the hotel, the lobby was quiet—dim lights casting warm pools across polished floors. Sofas lined the space, scattered like islands for weary guests.

We walked in side by side, my heart finally lighter.

But then I stopped.

Seated alone on one of the lobby sofas was a familiar figure. The moment our eyes met, mine widened.

Akiro.

His gaze burned—sharp, unreadable, steady. I gulped, pulse hitching. I hadn't prepared for this. Not here. Not now.

Arion noticed my reaction, turned, and followed my stare.

There was a silence. Heavy. Stretching.

And I stood there; caught between the warmth I'd escaped with... and the fire I'd tried to leave behind.

"I think we're in trouble, Tamaro," Arion whispered beside me, eyes trailing toward the figure on the sofa.

He stepped forward calmly, greeting Akiro with respectful warmth. Akiro nodded in return—polite, restrained—but his eyes never left me.

And they were burning.

I froze in place.

I didn't know how many times I swallowed, trying to ease the dry tightness in my throat. My feet refused to move. My heart? Racing.

He was never supposed to be here. Not tonight. Not like this.

But here he was.

The "double bunny"—that look he gave when he was both hurt and furious. Dangerous because it was quiet. Sharp. Controlled.

I wanted to run. Vanish. Hide.

But I couldn't.

I'm dead, I whispered to myself, as the silence in the lobby grew heavier than any words I could find.