CHAPTER 7 - " THE STOLEN MOMENTS "
937 Words
Umuulan nang mahina nang gabing ’yon.
The kind of rain that turns city lights into watercolor streaks, soft and blurred—parang lahat ng g**o sa mundo ay pansamantalang nahuhugasan. Sa loob ng Montenegro Artisan Bakery, tanging ilaw ng ovens at mahihinang tunog ng kneading machine ang bumabalot sa katahimikan.
Amber stood by the counter, still wearing her crisp white blouse and the faint smell of perfume that didn’t belong in a bakery. Her hair was loosely tied, and strands kept falling over her face as she tried to help Miguel pack the last batch of bread for delivery.
“Hindi mo kailangang tumulong,” sabi ni Miguel habang naglalagay ng mga pandesal sa brown paper bag.
“Supervisor ka, hindi tagapacking.”
Amber smirked, wiping flour off her cheek. “I’m learning the business, remember? Besides… mas gusto ko ‘yung ganitong amoy—bread and butter, not boardrooms and perfume.”
Miguel chuckled softly. “Weh? Sige nga, amuyin mo ‘yung sarili mo. Wala pa rin akong naamoy na butter diyan.”
Napangiti siya—isang ngiting hindi nakikita ng mga taga-high society.
It was softer, freer, like the girl behind the Montenegro name had finally taken a breath.
Silence settled between them again. Only the rhythmic clink of trays and the hum of the ovens filled the air.
Outside, the rain grew steadier—pattering against the glass windows, almost like a melody.
Amber turned to him suddenly. “Miguel… bakit mo pa rin ginagawa ‘to? Yung fighting.”
Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. “Alam kong delikado.”
He froze mid-motion. “Sino nagsabi sa’yo?”
“Hindi ko na kailangang tanungin,” she said, her gaze steady. “Nakita ko ‘yung sugat sa kamay mo noong isang gabi.”
Miguel didn’t answer immediately. He just sighed, wiping his hands on a towel. “Para kay Lily. Alam mo na ‘yun.”
Amber bit her lip, guilt flickering in her eyes. “If only I could help—”
“Huwag na,” he interrupted gently, shaking his head. “Hindi mo kailangang madamay. Lalo ka nang masasaktan.”
Pero hindi siya nakinig.
Lumapit siya, dahan-dahan, hanggang magkalapit na ang kanilang mga mukha—hindi pa isang pulgada ang pagitan.
“I’m already hurt, Miguel,” she whispered. “Every time I see you pretend you’re okay.”
He swallowed hard, his breath shallow.
“Amber…”
That single word carried everything he was afraid to say—every reason, every warning, every temptation.
The rain outside grew louder, almost like it wanted to drown their silence.
Amber lifted her hand and brushed the back of his knuckles, light as air.
That simple touch made his chest tighten—because in that moment, the world shrank to the space between their hands.
“Kung puwede lang…” she said softly, “kung puwede lang akong lumaban para sa’yo.”
He looked at her—really looked—and for the first time, Miguel forgot about lines, rules, and social class.
“Baka hindi mo kayanin ‘yung mundo ko,” he murmured.
“Then teach me,” she said.
That was the breaking point.
Miguel stepped closer, flour still dusting his arms, the faint smell of vanilla between them. He reached up and brushed away a tear that had escaped her eye.
Their fingers tangled for just a heartbeat—short, f*******n, perfect.
A stolen moment in the quiet hum of the bakery.
Then, suddenly—
clang!
A tray slipped from the counter, echoing through the room.
Amber gasped, pulling her hand back instantly.
They both turned toward the door—Mr. Alvaro, the night manager, was walking past the glass window outside.
They froze.
Heartbeats racing.
He didn’t notice them, but the tension had already broken.
Miguel exhaled shakily, stepping back.
“See? Delikado,” he whispered.
“Pag may nakakita sa’tin—”
Amber interrupted softly, her voice trembling. “Then let’s make sure… walang makakita.”
She smiled, but it wasn’t playful. It was brave.
Miguel stared at her like she was the most dangerous thing in the world—and the most beautiful.
“Bakit mo ‘to ginagawa sa sarili mo?” he asked, voice breaking.
Amber shook her head, tears welling. “Hindi ko rin alam. Pero sa tuwing nandiyan ka, parang may lasa ulit ‘yung mga araw ko.”
He wanted to say something—but words failed him.
Instead, he took a deep breath, walked to the oven, and turned it off. The sudden quiet made the air heavier, charged with everything unspoken.
“Go home, Amber,” he finally said.
Pero hindi siya gumalaw.
“Kung lalakad ako palabas ngayon,” she whispered, “baka hindi na ako bumalik bukas.”
Miguel’s chest tightened.
He turned away, gripping the counter until his knuckles turned white.
“Then stay…” he said hoarsely, “pero huwag mo kong titigan ng ganyan.”
Amber blinked, caught between tears and laughter.
“Bakit?”
“Dahil baka hindi na kita kayang palayain.”
And just like that, the world held its breath again.
No kisses. No promises.
Just two souls standing too close, both trembling for the same reason—
because they knew they were already falling.
The clock ticked past midnight.
The rain outside softened to a drizzle.
And as Amber quietly walked out of the bakery, she looked back one last time—
only to find Miguel still watching her, his hand over his heart, as if trying to hold on to something that was already slipping away.
- Writer
