Love, Heila (Tagalog)

Chapter 3

The next morning arrived with a thick, gray fog that hung low over the town. Hindi na ganoon kalakas ang ulan kumpara kagabi, pero ang hangin ay nanatiling malamig at ang mga kalsada ay maputik pa rin mula sa dagsa ng baha. I woke up extra early, barely getting three hours of sleep. My entire body ached from the stress of the storm, but the moment my feet touched the cold tiled floor of my room above the shop, my mind immediately went to the mayoral wedding orders.

I walked down the narrow wooden stairs and flipped the switches for the shop’s lights. The warm yellow glow flooded the room, reflecting off the damp glass windows. Everything was exactly where we left it last night, but the air smelled heavily of rain, crushed leaves, and the subtle, bittersweet scent of damp earth.

I walked over to the corner where a small, framed photograph of my mother sat on a wooden shelf, right beside a small porcelain vase filled with fresh white freesias.

"Good morning, Ma," I whispered, reaching out to gently wipe a speck of dust from the glass frame.

It has been three years since she passed away. Three years since cancer took her, leaving me with a heavy chest full of unspoken words and the keys to this tiny floral boutique. This shop wasn't just a business for me; it was her entire life. She used to tell me that every flower has a soul, and if you listen closely enough, they will tell you exactly what the person buying them needs. When she died, everyone advised me to sell the place to pay off her remaining hospital debts, but I couldn't. Holding onto these walls, these buckets, and these ribbons was the only way I could keep her memory alive.

"I hope I'm doing the right thing, Ma," I murmured, staring at the keys of the delivery van sitting on the counter. "Hijomi is trapped in his flooded house, and I’m about to trust a complete stranger with your favorite van today."

Suddenly, the front door clicked open.

Ting.

I jumped slightly, snapping my head toward the entrance. It was exactly six in the morning. I didn't expect him to be here this early.

Rehan stepped inside, shutting the door quietly behind him. He was no longer wearing the soaked, heavy hoodie from last night. Instead, he wore a simple, clean white t-shirt under an unbuttoned, oversized dark gray flannel shirt, paired with faded black jeans. His hair was still slightly damp but neatly combed away from his face. Up close, without the shadows of the storm obscuring his features, he looked even more out of place. His skin was flawless, and despite the exhaustion visible in the slight dark circles under his eyes, his posture was remarkably straight, almost military-like.

"You're early," I said, my voice sounding a bit breathier than I intended.

"I don't like being late," Rehan replied flatly. He walked toward the counter, his boots making a soft, rhythmic thudding sound against the floor. He didn't look around the shop; his focus was entirely on me. "Where are the orders?"

"Teka lang, excited ka naman masyado," I tried to joke, trying to ease the thick, awkward tension vibrating between us. I gestured toward the back room where the large, insulated boxes were stacked. "They’re in the back. The wedding coordinator wants the main bridal car arrangement and the entourage bouquets at the venue by exactly eight in the morning. The venue is at the grand ballroom of the municipal hall in the next town."

Rehan nodded slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. "How far is it?"

"Normally, it’s just a thirty-minute drive. Pero dahil bumaha kagabi, the main highway might be congested or partially blocked. You'll have to take the diversion road along the coastal bypass," I explained, pulling out a piece of paper where I had hastily drawn a map last night. "I wrote down the directions here, along with the contact number of the coordinator."

Rehan stepped closer to look at the paper. As he leaned over the counter, the faint, clean scent of cedarwood and a subtle trace of mint drifted into my senses, completely overriding the smell of the flowers. He took the pen from my hand, his long, pale fingers brushing against mine for a brief second. A small, involuntary shiver ran up my arm.

"The coastal bypass," Rehan muttered, his eyes scanning my messy handwriting. He traced the lines I drew with the tip of the pen. "Is the road near the beach prone to landslides?"

"Hindi naman, sementado naman 'yung buong daan. But it’s narrow, and since kakabagyo lang, the wind might still be a bit strong," I said, watching his expressions. He didn't look intimidated at all. In fact, he looked like a seasoned strategist analyzing a battle plan. "Marunong ka ba talaga mag-drive ng manual van? Medyo may katagalan na 'yung van namin, and the clutch is a bit loose. Kailangan mong apakan nang malalim."

Rehan looked up from the map, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an unreadable intensity. "I can manage, Heila. I told you, I can drive anything."

"Okay, sabi mo eh," I sighed, handing him the clipboard with the delivery receipt. "Let’s start loading the boxes. Extreme care, please. Ang pinaka-delikado diyan ay 'yung cascading bouquet ng bride. It’s made of imported white orchids and pale pink roses. Isang maling kabig mo lang sa manibela, pwedeng mabali 'yung mga tangkay."

"Show me," he said.

I led him to the back room, and for the next twenty minutes, we worked in total silence. I expected a guy who looked like a Korean model to struggle with the heavy, awkward wooden crates, but Rehan surprised me. He lifted the massive insulated boxes with absolute ease, his forearms tensing under his rolled-up flannel sleeves. What surprised me even more was how incredibly gentle he was when handling the flowers. When I handed him the delicate bridal arrangement, he took it from my hands as if he were holding a fragile piece of glass, his movements precise and careful.

Once everything was securely loaded into the back of the old silver van, he closed the back doors with a firm click and turned to face me.

"I will be back before noon," Rehan said, adjusting the collar of his flannel shirt.

"Maging maingat ka, Rehan," I told him, genuinely feeling a knot of worry in my chest. "Kung hindi talaga kayang daanan 'yung baha, don't force it. Just call me. My business is important, but your safety is more important."

Rehan paused, his hand gripping the handle of the driver’s side door. He turned his head slightly to look at me, his sharp features softening just a fraction. It was the first time I saw something other than cold indifference in his eyes.

"I don't plan on failing my first day," he said smoothly, before climbing into the driver’s seat.

He twisted the key, and the old van’s engine roared to life with its usual loud, sputtering vibration. Rehan shifted the gear smoothly, gave me one last brief nod through the open window, and then drove out of the alley, disappearing into the morning fog.

I stood there in the empty alley for a long time, watching the faint red glow of the van's taillights fade into the distance. The shop felt incredibly quiet without him, and even more so without Hijomi’s non-stop chatter.

I walked back inside, leaning against the counter as the clock ticked away. My mind kept drifting between two completely different things: the anxious hope that Rehan would deliver the flowers safely, and the lingering memory of Marion Devan’s exhausted, heartbroken face from yesterday. Two completely different men, both carrying their own silent storms, had suddenly walked into my mother’s shop within the span of twenty-four hours.

I picked up the spray bottle and began misting the remaining flowers on the display shelves, trying to distract myself. "Please let everything go well today," I prayed silently, looking back at my mother's photograph. "Para sa shop natin, Ma."