THE DAY YOU STOPPED CHOOSING ME

THE DAY YOU STOPPED CHOOSING ME Chapter 1: The Boy Who Always Chose Me (Andre Lim) Elle Janina Santillan - 20, 3rd Year Ateneo, AB Literature I counted. 14 days, 7 hours, and 22 minutes since March 12, 7:04 PM. 14 days since Sean Andrei Madrigal stopped choosing me. My small apartment in Quezon City smelled like nothing. I didn't cook. I didn't clean. The two cups of Starbucks from that day were still on my kitchen counter — mine empty, his untouched, now with molds. My phone was dead on battery but alive in notifications. Not from him. From everyone else. Group Chat - Ateneo Lit Block: Bea: Elle, okay ka lang? Si Sean nakita namin with Miranda sa DLSU Bazaar kahapon :( I didn't reply. My Mama called from Laguna. I didn't answer. I knew what she would say. "Anak, umuwi ka muna dito. Wag mo nang habulin yung batang mayaman na yan." She never liked Sean. Not because he was rich — Mama liked rich. She didn't like him because she said Sean looked at me like I was an option, not a decision. Mama was right. It was March 26. Thursday. 9:47 PM. Maulan pa rin. Parang March 12. And I was still wearing his La Salle varsity jacket. Amoy siya pa rin. Or maybe amoy imagination ko na lang. Then the doorbell rang. I thought it was the landlord. Or delivery I didn't order. I opened the door. Andre Lim. Payong na sira sa lakas ng ulan. White Ateneo shirt na basa. Shorts lang and slippers. Holding a plastic labo na may lugaw, and 7-11 paper bag. "Andre?" My voice cracked. Pangit ng boses ko. Pangit ko siguro. He didn't say hi. He just looked at me, from my messy bun, to my puffy eyes, to my chapped lips, to the jacket that wasn't his. And his jaw clenched. I saw it. He always does that when he's trying not to be angry. "Tabi," he said softly. He went inside like he owned the place — well, technically, he had a duplicate key since 2nd year because I kept losing mine. He placed the lugaw on my small table. He took out Biogesic, Pocari Sweat, Yakult — strawberry, my favorite — and Sky Flakes. "Bakit ka nandito?" I whispered. He was wiping the table with tissue because I hadn't wiped it in days. "Tita called me. Sabi niya hindi ka sumasagot. Pumunta ako ng condo ni Sean sa BGC kanina." My heart stopped. "Anong—" "Wala siya dun. Nasa Tagaytay sila. With the Cruz family. Business daw." Tagaytay. That was supposed to be our place. Where he first said "Mahal kita" nung 1st year. Andre sat on the floor, because my chair was full of laundry. He patted the space beside him. "Kain." "Hindi ako gutom." "Elle, last ka kumain Monday pa. It's Thursday. Anong hindi gutom?" "Paano mo nalaman?" "Because I know you. Pag nasasaktan ka, hindi ka kumakain. Pag nasasaktan ka dahil kay Sean Madrigal, hindi ka natutulog. And pag nasasaktan ka ng sobra, you wear that stupid jacket." I started crying again. God, nakakahiya. 14 days na akong umiiyak. Andre didn't panic. He didn't do what boys usually do — yung "wag ka na umiyak." He just moved closer and let me cry on his shoulder. His shirt was wet from the rain, but it was warm. "I hate him," I sobbed. "I hate him so much, Dre. But I miss him. How can I miss someone I hate?" He let me. He rubbed my back. His hand was big, familiar. After 10 minutes, he whispered, "Galit ka kasi mahal mo pa." That made me cry harder. He waited. Until my sobs became sniffles. Then he opened the lugaw. "Kain ka. One spoon lang. For me." "Andre—" "Isang subo lang. Then you can hate me too." I took one spoon. It was warm. Maalat. Lasang kanto. Lasang Ateneo. Lasang Andre. On the second spoon, I was already crying while eating. "Hay, Ellie," he sighed, wiping my tears with his thumb. "Look at you. You gave him three years. Binigay mo lahat. And he couldn't even give you a decent goodbye." "I thought he would choose me," I said, small. "Akala ko ako pipiliin niya. Over business, over family, over Miranda." Andre looked at me then. Really looked at me. His eyes — his always tired, puyat eyes from accounting hell — were so soft. "Elle, listen to me," he said, and his voice was serious. The voice he uses when he's tutoring me in accounting na hindi ko maintindihan. "Love is not a feeling. Love is a choice. Everyday. You wake up and you choose the person. Kahit mahirap, kahit pagod ka, kahit maraming options." He took my hand. His hand was cold from the rain. "For seven years, Elle. Seven years since we were 13. Everyday, I wake up and I choose you. Kahit alam kong si Sean ang pinipili mo. Kahit alam kong hindi mo ako tinitignan. I choose you." My breath hitched. "Andre—" "I'm not asking you to choose me back," he cut me off quickly, like he was scared. "God, Elle, I'm not. I just — I just want you to know what it feels like to be chosen. Kasi hindi mo na-feel yun kay Sean." The rain was loud outside. My small apartment was quiet. And for the first time in 14 days, someone looked at me and didn't look away. I looked at Andre Lim — my best friend, my constant, the boy who always brought me Yakult, who knew I was allergic to peanuts, who knew I cried when I watched A Silent Voice. The boy who was always choosing me, even when I was too busy waiting to be chosen by someone else. "Thank you for choosing me today, Dre," I whispered. He smiled. That small, puyat smile. "Always. Kahit hindi mo hinihingi." And that night, I ate the whole lugaw. Not because I was hungry. But because for the first time in a long time, I felt full. Full of being chosen.