MY ENGINEER BOSS, MY SECRET ADMIRER

My name is Annabelle Zakorn, 23 years old. We move in Paslin City, Manila Philippines from Thailand. My father is a pure thai-man he marries my mom, a Filipina woman at the age of 45, late age for having a family. My parents are both hardworking while my grandmother, better to call her my "Lola" in Filipino language. Lola was the one who taking care of me at home and in school, while my parents was busy. It's already one year now, I did graduated from my college course, Bachelor of Science in Engineering major in civil engineer.. The humidity of Paslin City always felt like a wet wool blanket thrown over my shoulders, but today, it felt heavy enough to suffocate me I sat on the edge of our creaking bamboo porch, staring down at my reflection in a puddle left behind by the morning drizzle. In my hands, the crumpled, tear-stained envelope from the Professional Regulation Commission felt like a mockery. Failed. The word didn't just mean, I hadn't scored enough points on the Civil Engineering Licensure Exam, it meant the structural integrity of my entire life had collapsed. For five years, I had calculated stress loads, fluid mechanics, and structural designs. Yet, nobody taught me how to calculate the breaking point of a human heart under pressure. The stress of the review center, the sleepless nights fueled by cheap instant coffee, and the suffocating expectation to be the first licensed engineer in the Zakorn family had fractured my focus. "Annabelle?!" The voice didn't come from my mother or father. It was Nathan, stepping into the small courtyard, holding a plastic bag of groceries, as if he still belonged here. Nathan was my high school sweetheart, the anchor I thought would hold me steady against in any storm of life. We had a planned for our lives, graduate, pass our boards, build our careers, and then marry. “Till death do us part, Belle,” he used to whisper against my forehead during long study nights. “Just get through the exams, and we’ll build our own company in the future” I remember he say this while handing over a cup of coffee to me. He is so thoughtful, encouraging me always to reach that dream. I believe in him. But not like today.. Nathan found me in our living room, he was so excited, blush on his cheek and he even brought me flowers and chocolates. "This is all for you, because your are hardworking!" "Thanks" I said, my voices was so slow like a turtle walking in the sand. There is a weakness and sadness on my face. And I know he will notice it immediately. "Are you not feeling well?" "No. I'm fine.. I was, I was just feel sad today" I admitted. Nathan hold himself for a while, looking at me with a questions in his eyes. "You didn't pass, did you?" he asked, his voice carrying a mix of pity and exhaustion that made my stomach turn. "I missed it by two percent. Nathan, I think I need to review again, I need more time. Next year. I can do it next year." I whispered, my throat become tight. He didn't offer a hug. He didn't sit beside me. He just rubbed the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at my face? That was the moment I noticed the small, silver hair clip catching the afternoon sun from the front pocket of his backpack. It wasn't mine. It belonged to Sarah, my high school classmate, the girl who used to sit two rows ahead of us, the girl Nathan told me not to worry about when she started messaging him for "career advice." "It's not just the exam, is it?" I asked, the realization cutting through my grief with surgical precision. Nathan froze. The silence that followed was louder than the roaring jeepneys out on the main avenue. He didn't even have the decency to deny it. "Sarah and I... there's is nothing happened about us, Belle," he stammered, stepping back as if my heartbreak were contagious. "You were always so busy. So stressed. Every time I called, it was about blueprints or mock exams. She was just... there for me." Strangely, I didn't feel a raging fire toward Sarah. She hadn't promised me forever, she hadn't built a foundation with me since we were sixteen. My anger, cold and sharp as rebar, was entirely for him. He had broken the contract. He had abandoned the site before the first pillar was even poured. "Get out," I said, my voice turned to be a normal louder than the way I was, though my hands were shaking so violently, the paper in my lap rattled. "Belle, it's just..." he insisted a words, but he knew it that I don't want to hear it anymore, so he stop. "Take your broken promises and get out of my sight!"