CHAPTER 20: Just Stay!
2102 Words
I didn't know what scared me more.
The man standing at the end of the hallway—
or the fact that Dave's hand was still holding mine.
My father was alive.
Sofia was standing in front of us.
Everything I had believed about my life had been turned upside down.
Again.
But somehow, in that moment, all I could think about was the warmth of Dave's hand around mine.
He squeezed it once.
A quiet reminder.
I'm here.
I looked at him.
He didn't look at me.
His eyes were fixed on the hallway.
“Don't move,” he whispered.
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Good.”
“You're shaking.”
“So are you.”
“I know.”
He glanced at me.
For some reason, that made me smile.
Even now.
Even here.
He could still make me smile.
And maybe that was the problem.
I was beginning to realize that Dave had become the one person who could make me forget, even for a second, how broken everything around me had become.
---
The man stepped forward.
My father.
Older.
His hair was streaked with gray.
His face was thinner than I remembered from photographs.
But I knew him.
There was something about his eyes.
Something that made my chest ache.
“Thea.”
I froze.
He knew my name.
Of course he did.
But hearing him say it felt strange.
Like hearing a stranger call me by a name that belonged to me.
“You're alive.”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
I wanted to ask a hundred questions.
Why did you leave?
Why did you let me think you were dead?
Why didn't you come back?
Why did you let Mama raise me alone?
Why did everyone lie?
But only one came out.
“Why?”
He looked at me.
“I wanted to protect you.”
I almost laughed.
“Everyone says that.”
His expression changed.
“I'm sorry.”
“You don't get to say sorry.”
“I know.”
“You don't get to come back after fifteen years and expect me to forgive you.”
“I don't.”
“Then what do you want?”
He looked at Dave.
Then at me.
“I want you to leave.”
Dave stepped forward.
“No.”
My father looked at him.
“You shouldn't be here.”
Dave didn't move.
“She's not going anywhere without me.”
I looked at him.
My father stared at him for a moment.
Then smiled sadly.
“You sound like your mother.”
Dave stiffened.
“Don't talk about my mother.”
My father looked away.
“I owe her an apology.”
“You owe a lot of people an apology.”
My father looked at me.
“Yes.”
For once, I saw no argument in his eyes.
No excuse.
Just regret.
And somehow, that made me angrier.
Because it was easier to hate someone who didn't care.
“Why did you take Sofia?”
My father looked toward her.
“I didn't take her.”
Sofia laughed bitterly.
“You did.”
“I saved you.”
“You kidnapped me.”
“I protected you.”
“You locked me away.”
“I kept you alive.”
I stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Everyone stopped.
I looked at my father.
“I don't care who is right anymore.”
He stared at me.
“I want the truth.”
“You're not ready.”
I laughed.
“I'm never ready, apparently.”
I took a step closer.
“But I'm tired of waiting.”
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then—
he nodded.
“Then I will tell you.”
Dave moved beside me.
My father noticed.
He smiled faintly.
“You trust him?”
I looked at Dave.
Then back at my father.
“I don't know.”
Dave glanced at me.
“But I'm trying.”
My father nodded.
“That's all you can do.”
---
We didn't talk about the family that night.
Instead, Dave took me somewhere.
I didn't ask where.
I just followed.
We ended up at a small roadside eatery.
It was almost midnight.
There were only a few tables occupied.
A couple sharing noodles.
A delivery rider eating alone.
An old man watching television behind the counter.
Dave parked his motorcycle.
I looked at him.
“Seriously?”
“What?”
“After everything that happened…”
He pointed toward the restaurant.
“You haven't eaten.”
I stared at him.
“You brought me here to eat?”
“Yes.”
“My father just appeared after fifteen years.”
“Yes.”
“Sofia is apparently my almost-sister-but-not-really-sister.”
“Yes.”
“Everyone is lying.”
“Yes.”
“And you're worried about food?”
He nodded.
“Very.”
I laughed.
“You're unbelievable.”
“I know.”
We sat at a small plastic table.
He ordered two meals.
I looked at him.
“You're not even asking what I want?”
“I know what you want.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“How?”
“You always order the same thing.”
I stared.
“Since when?”
“Since I started paying attention.”
I looked away.
“Stop saying things like that.”
“Why?”
“Because…”
I didn't finish.
He smiled.
“Okay.”
The food arrived.
For the first few minutes, we ate quietly.
Then I said—
“Dave?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you scared?”
He looked at me.
“Of what?”
“Everything.”
He thought about it.
“Yes.”
I nodded.
“Me too.”
He continued eating.
Then he said—
“But I'm more scared of you doing something stupid.”
I frowned.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“I don't do stupid things.”
He looked at me.
I looked back.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Okay.”
“Thank you.”
“You do some stupid things.”
“Like?”
“Running into dangerous places.”
“That was necessary.”
“Following strangers.”
“They had my mother.”
“Going to Cebu tomorrow.”
“We're still going.”
“I know.”
I smiled.
“You're coming.”
He sighed.
“Unfortunately.”
I kicked his shoe under the table.
He laughed.
And for the first time that night—
I felt normal.
---
After eating, we sat outside.
The street was quiet.
The air smelled like rain.
I looked at the road.
“I used to think being strong meant not needing anyone.”
Dave leaned against the motorcycle.
“And now?”
I shrugged.
“I don't know.”
He looked at me.
“I think…”
I paused.
“I think maybe being strong is knowing when you don't have to do everything alone.”
He smiled.
“That's better.”
“Don't sound so proud.”
“I am.”
I rolled my eyes.
He laughed.
Then silence.
A comfortable one.
The kind that didn't need filling.
I looked at him.
“Why are you still here?”
He looked confused.
“Where else would I be?”
“You know what I mean.”
He thought for a moment.
“Because I like being around you.”
I looked away.
“Even when I'm difficult?”
“Especially then.”
“I'm not difficult.”
“You threatened to throw a chair at me yesterday.”
“You deserved it.”
“Exactly.”
I smiled.
Then he became serious.
“You know what I like about you?”
I immediately looked at him.
“What?”
“You don't pretend to be helpless.”
I blinked.
“That's what you like?”
“Yeah.”
He shrugged.
“You're stubborn.”
“Thank you?”
“You're independent.”
“Okay.”
“You scare people.”
I laughed.
“Good.”
“But…”
He looked at me.
“You don't realize how kind you are.”
My smile disappeared.
“I am?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Dave.”
“You are.”
He looked away.
“You just hide it because you're scared people will take advantage of it.”
I didn't know what to say.
Because he was right.
And somehow—
he knew.
Not because I had told him.
Because he had watched.
He had noticed.
I looked at him.
“That's annoying.”
“What?”
“You know me too well.”
He smiled.
“I'm observant.”
“You're nosy.”
“That too.”
I laughed.
---
We rode home around one in the morning.
This time, I held onto him without thinking.
My cheek rested lightly against his back.
The motorcycle moved through the quiet streets.
For once, I didn't think about my father.
Or Sofia.
Or the inheritance.
Or the secrets.
I just listened to his heartbeat.
Steady.
Real.
When we reached my house, I didn't immediately get off.
Dave turned his head slightly.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You're still holding me.”
I quickly let go.
“Sorry.”
He laughed.
“Again, I didn't say stop.”
I got off the motorcycle.
“You really need new jokes.”
“I have plenty.”
“None of them are funny.”
“You laughed.”
“Because I felt bad for you.”
“Sure.”
We stood by the gate.
Neither of us moved.
Then Dave said—
“Tomorrow is going to be terrible.”
“Probably.”
“Your family is insane.”
“I know.”
“Your father is terrifying.”
“I know.”
“Sofia is confusing.”
“I know.”
He looked at me.
“But…”
“What?”
“You'll be okay.”
I smiled.
“You sound like you're trying to convince yourself.”
“Maybe.”
I stepped closer.
“Dave.”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For today.”
He smiled.
“Anytime.”
I hesitated.
Then—
I hugged him.
It wasn't long.
It wasn't romantic.
At least, that's what I told myself.
Just a hug.
A thank-you.
Nothing more.
But Dave froze.
Then slowly—
his arms wrapped around me.
Warm.
Careful.
Like he was afraid of holding me too tightly.
I closed my eyes.
For a few seconds, I let myself breathe.
I didn't have to be strong.
I didn't have to pretend.
I didn't have to carry anything.
I could just stand there.
With him.
When I pulled away, neither of us spoke.
Dave looked at me.
I looked at him.
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
I went inside.
I closed the door.
Then leaned against it.
My heart was beating too fast.
I touched my chest.
“Calm down.”
It didn't.
I went upstairs.
Changed clothes.
Lay in bed.
Still awake.
I picked up my phone.
A message from Dave.
«Dave: You forgot your bracelet.»
I looked at my wrist.
He was right.
I had left it on his motorcycle.
I replied.
«Me: Keep it. I'll get it tomorrow.»
His reply came immediately.
«Dave: Okay.»
Then another.
«Dave: Good night, independent girl.»
I smiled.
«Me: Good night, annoying boy.»
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Appeared again.
Finally:
«Dave: Don't overthink tonight.»
I stared at the message.
Too late.
I was already thinking.
Not about my father.
Not about the family.
Not about the secrets.
About the hug.
About the way he held me.
About the way he looked at me.
And the terrifying realization that came with it.
Dave wasn't just the person I trusted.
He was becoming the person I looked for.
The person I wanted beside me.
The person whose absence I noticed.
The person whose presence made everything a little easier.
And maybe—
just maybe—
that was what Her Exception meant.
Not that he was the person who saved me.
But that he was the person I willingly allowed into a life where I had spent years refusing to let anyone stay.
I smiled at my phone.
Then turned it face down.
“No.”
I whispered to myself.
“Not yet.”
Because I wasn't ready to call it love.
Not even close.
But I couldn't deny one thing anymore.
Dave was becoming my exception.
- Writer
