THE PILOT'S FINAL STOP

CHAPTER 11 🥰

ARIELLE's POV

ARIELLE’S SKULL felt like it was being split open.

Parang may nagmamartilyo sa utak niya habang may drum and lyre pa sa temples niya.

Pero dahil napakakomportable ng hinihigaan niya, hindi niya iyon pinansin.

Ang lambot ng kama…

Ang bango ng bedsheet…

Wait.

She froze.

Bakit parang amoy-Kierran ang bedsheet ko?

Bakit ko naaamoy ang lalaking iyon—

Mabilis siyang napamulagat at napaupo nang diretso.

At muntik na siyang himatayin.

Because she wasn’t just lying on a bed.

She was lying on top of Kierran.

Walang damit.

As in walang kahit ano.

“Oh. My. GOD.”

Then—

“MANIAK!!!”

Isang sigaw na literal nagpagising sa buong resort kung kinakailangan.

Nagulat din si Kierran, mabilis na bumangon, buhok gusot, mukha groggy pero alerto.

“Nasaan?!”

He looked around wildly. “Nasaan ang manyak?!”

She wanted to punch him.

Pero bago pa niya magawa iyon…

accidentally bumaba ang tingin niya.

Sa p*********i nito.

Na buhay.

Na alerto.

Na… malaki.

As in napalunok siya.

“Ang laki naman niyan…”

She clamped her mouth, too late.

Kierran blinked once.

Then shrugged — walang ka-effort-effort.

“That made you scream last night.”

P A K !

His face whipped to the side as her palm connected HARD.

“MANYAK!”

Tinakpan niya ang sarili ng bedsheet.

“Lumayas ka dito! What did you do to me?! You took advantage of me!”

Kierran snapped his head back to glare at her.

“I DID NOT take advantage of you!”

He pointed at her accusingly.

“It was the other way around!”

She gaped at him.

“THE OTHER WAY AROUND?!”

Nanlaki ang mata niya.

“Sa tingin mo gagawin ko ’yon?! I am NOT a maniac like you! OUT! GET OUT!”

Still scowling, he bent down and started picking up his clothes scattered on the floor.

“Sige. Aalis na ako.”

Then he paused at the doorway, smirk spreading across his lips.

“But I have one thing to say.”

She glared. “Ano?”

He leaned slightly, arrogant as the devil.

“I spurt my semen inside of you.”

Takbo.

As in literal na tumakbo palabas ng villa bago pa siya makapag-hagis ng vase sa kanya.

Arielle stared after him, frozen.

Then—

“H O L Y S H I T.”

Napataas siya ng talon.

As in jump-jump-jump like a rabbit sa gitna ng kwarto.

“NO. NO. NO!”

Tumalon pa.

“Sabi sa article—para hindi mabuntis, kailangan tumalon pagkatapos—AHHH!”

Huminto siya, hingal na hingal, naka-bed sheet lang, buhok sabog.

“Ano pa silbi n’on?!” she shrieked at no one in particular.

“Siguradong nag-meet na si Kierran sperm cell at si Arielle egg cell!”

She collapsed on the edge of the bed, hair wild, eyes wide in horror.

She gripped the sheets, trembling in absolute indignation.

“KIERRAN WITHMORE…” she growled through gritted teeth.

“Huwag ka lang magpapakita sa akin.”

She stood, fists shaking.

“Dahil ’pag nagpakita ka—TATALUPAN KITA NANG BUHAY!”

STILL wrapped in the bedsheet like a deranged burrito, Arielle paced back and forth sa may gilid ng kama.

Ang puso niya?

Nasa throat.

Ang utak niya?

Naka-emergency mode na parang may sunog.

“Calm down, Arielle… CALM DOWN,” she whispered to herself.

Pero imbes na kumalma, lalo lang siyang nalula.

What if buntis ako?

WHAT IF BUNTIS AKO?

“No. No way. Hindi pwede. Hindi puwede ngayon. Hindi puwedeng siya pa. KILL ME NOW.”

She grabbed her phone with trembling hands.

Naghihintay… naglo-load… nag-hahang pa talaga ang WiFi like it hated her.

“Come on. COME ON! This is not the time to be slow!” She violently tapped her screen.

Finally, Google opened.

At doon na sumabog ang kabaliwan niya.

Search: “How to prevent pregnancy AFTER penetration?”

Enter.

Dozens of results flashed.

“DRINKING SODA DOES NOT PREVENT PREGNANCY.”

“What?!”

Tinapon niya ang phone sa kama, kinuha ulit, nag-scroll.

“Jumping does NOTHING.”

She almost cried.

HALOS.

“Bakit ba ako tumalon?! Para akong kangaroo na walang silbi!”

She typed again, fingers trembling.

Search: “Paano hindi mabuntis kung nakakapasok na ang—”

Automatic suggestion popped up:

“—kung nakakapasok na ang sperm?”

“Oh, for the love of God.”

She clicked the first article.

“Once sperm enters the vaginal canal, pregnancy is possible. Washing does not help.”

Nanigas siya.

As in literal na nanigas na parang tinamaan ng kidlat.

“Hindi nakakatulong ang paghuhugas?”

“Ano pang silbi ng body wash?!”

She grabbed a pillow and screamed into it.

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!”

Bumagsak siya sa kama, nakatihaya, hawak-hawak ang noo.

“I can’t be pregnant. I CAN’T. I have flights. I have schedules. I have a life. I have a career. I HAVE ACADEMY RESPONSIBILITIES! And I do NOT have the emotional capacity right now to produce a human child!”

Umupo siya bigla.

“Lalo na hindi kay Kierran Withmore! Hindi ko kakayanin ’yon! Baka maging 50% ang anak ko—50% angas, 50% arrogance!”

She typed again.

Search: “Symptoms of pregnancy after less than 24 hours.”

Ang lumabas?

“None. It’s too early.”

She stared at the screen.

“I hate you, Google. You’re useless.”

Her chest tightened again. She felt dizzy, nervous, and extremely annoyed.

Tumayo siya, naglakad-lakad papuntang mini-kitchen, naglagay ng tubig sa baso, at uminom ng isang lagok.

Nang ma-realize niyang nauuhaw siya—

She froze.

“Omigod. Nakauhaw ako. Is this a symptom? BUNTIS NA BA AKO?!”

She panicked again.

“No. No. That can’t be it. WAIT. Google ulit!”

She ran back.

Search: “Is being thirsty a pregnancy symptom?”

Saglit lang lumabas na:

“Thirst can be caused by dehydration and alcohol consumption.”

She blinked.

“Oh.”

“Oh my God.”

“I’m not pregnant—lasing lang talaga ako kagabi?!”

She slumped onto the floor, weak with relief.

Pero bago pa siya tuluyang kumalma, naalala niya ang isang bagay.

Kierran’s smug face.

His stupid smirk.

His stupid line: “I spurt my semen inside of you.”

Nagalit ulit siya.

“WALANGHIYA KA TALAGA!”

She kicked her pillow off the bed.

“Pinagtripan mo pa talaga ako sa umaga? Nagpa-panic ako dito habang ikaw ay malamang nagca-coffee-coffee d’yan na parang wala lang?!”

She stood, chest heaving.

“Kierran Withmore… kapag nagpakita ka sa akin ngayon…”

She pointed at the door like a warning sign.

“I swear, I swear to all the clouds in the sky — baka ikaw ang una kong pasahero sa eroplano na walang parachute.”

And with that, she collapsed dramatically onto the bed again.

This island was going to kill her.

Or worse…

He was.

Dali-dali akong naligo—hindi normal na shower, kundi panic shower.

Yung tipong:

tatlong beses kong sinabon ang braso ko

dalawang beses ang buhok

at hindi ko alam kung ilang beses kong tinanong sarili ko na,

“Arielle, bakit ka nagpapaka-stupid?!”

Paglabas ko ng banyo, basa pa ang buhok ko pero wala na akong pake. I dragged out my suitcase like my life depended on it.

“Kailangan ko nang makaalis sa isla na ’to,” bulong ko habang hinahagis ang damit sa bag.

Hindi lang damit.

LAHAT.

Clothes. Makeup. Pilot IDs. Even random chargers I wasn’t sure kung sa’kin ba talaga.

Isang sapatos ang tumama sa dingding.

Bahala na. Soriano na ang maglilinis.

I zipped my suitcase aggressively, parang kaaway ko iyon.

“I cannot stay here. No. No. Nope. Not happening. Hindi ko hahayaang magka—”

Natigil ako.

I stared at my reflection sa salamin.

Basang buhok. Namumugto ang mata. Mukha pa rin gulo kahit kakaligo lang.

I looked insane.

“No… this is fine,” I whispered, convincing myself.

“Kailangan kong umalis bago pa ako mabaliw. Before makita ko ulit yung—”

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

I froze.

May kumatok.

Napaatras ako nang isang hakbang.

Hindi puwede. Hindi pwedeng siya iyon. Hindi ako handa. Hindi pa ako nakapag-ayos ng mukha ko, ng utak ko, ng fertility fears ko—

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Mas malakas ngayon.

“Oh my God,” bulong ko.

“Universe, please… wag siya, wag siya…”

Kinuha ko ang unan at niyakap iyon na parang shield.

Tapos —

“Arielle.”

Napapikit ako nang mariin.

That voice.

That deep, low, annoyingly smooth voice.

Kierran.

Of course.

Siyempre siya.

Siyempre ngayon.

Siyempre habang nagpa-pack ako ng pagtakas ko.

“Arielle, open the door.”

Hindi ko binuksan.

Hindi ko balak buksan.

Hindi ko kayang makita yung mukha na nag-cause ng mental breakdown ko ngayong umaga.

But then…

“I know you’re inside. I saw the lights.”

Why is he like this?!

I pressed my forehead against the door, whispering angrily:

“Umalis ka, Kierran…”

Parang narinig niya.

“Open the door,” he said, mas mababa na ang boses.

Not demanding.

Not angry.

Almost… careful.

That made it worse.

Mas delikado ang Kierran na gentle kaysa sa Kierran na bastos.

“Arielle,” he said again, voice controlled but persistent,

“…we need to talk.”

NOPE.

I tightened my grip on the pillow.

“No, we don’t,” sagot ko, kahit ’di niya marinig.

“I know you’re leaving. I saw the shuttle request.”

I closed my eyes in frustration.

Of course he did.

Island owner siya.

Kahit pag-ubo ko baka nakalista sa security log.

“And I’m asking you,” he continued, softer now,

“…please don’t leave without talking to me.”

My knees almost gave out.

Because Kierran Withmore does NOT say please.

Hindi siya humihingi.

Hindi siya nagre-request.

He commands.

He takes.

But now…

He was asking.

“Arielle,” he said, one final time,

“…if I hurt you, tell me. But don’t run away without letting me fix it.”

My throat tightened.

I hated him.

I wanted to punch him.

I wanted to scream at him.

Pero bakit may kumislot sa puso ko?

I held my breath.

Then—

My hand slowly reached toward the doorknob…

But at the very last second—

I snatched my hand back.

“No,” bulong ko sa sarili.

“Not today. Hindi ko kaya.”

I grabbed my suitcase, pushing it toward the back exit door of the villa—yung walkway papuntang private path.

If he was waiting sa front door…

I’d leave through the back.

I wasn’t ready to face him.

To confront what did or didn’t happen.

To argue.

To hear apologies.

Or worse…

To hear truths I wasn’t ready for.

Bago tuluyang sumara ang back door, I whispered to myself—

“Sorry, Kierran. Hindi ko to kaya ngayon.”

At tahimik akong lumabas ng villa…

KIERRAN POV

Narinig niya ang katahimikan sa kabilang side ng pinto.

Walang kaluskos.

Walang sagot.

Walang kahit anong indikasyon na bubuksan ni Arielle ang pinto.

Pero ramdam niya.

Ramdam niya na gising ito.

Ramdam niya na naroon ito, nakikinig sa bawat salita niya… pero hindi niya haharapin.

That realization punched him in the chest.

Nag-sigh siya nang malalim, pinilit kontrolin ang inis, frustration, at isang bagay na mas lalong hindi niya kayang pangalanan.

“Arielle,” bulong niya sa huling pagkakataon, "please… don’t leave like this."

But no answer came.

Not a single word.

And he hated how much it affected him.

He stepped back from the door.

Then turned away.

Pero pagdating niya sa hallway papunta sa elevator, something felt off.

Isang staff ang nagmamadaling lumapit, hawak ang tablet.

“Sir Kier—permission granted na po for a private jet departure. Ten minutes ago.”

Nanlamig ang dugo niya.

“What jet?” His voice dropped dangerously low.

“Yung dalaga po… si Miss Arielle Zaragoza. Nag-request po ng immediate takeoff clearance from the hangar. Na-approve din po kasi—”

Hindi na niya narinig ang sumunod.

Para siyang tinamaan ng kidlat.

Arielle.

She wasn’t just refusing to open the door.

She was leaving. Now.

Without talking to him.

Without facing him.

Without hearing anything he needed to say.

And that thought—

that she would rather FLEE the island

than spend one more minute in the same place as him—

hit him in a way nothing ever had.

He sprinted.

Not walked.

Not jogged.

He ran.

Down the corridor.

Into the elevator.

Out through the main doors.

Across the resort grounds.

Breath sharp.

Heart pounding.

Jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.

“Kier! Sir! Where are you heading?” sigaw ng guard.

Hindi niya sinagot.

He got into the nearest resort ATV and slammed the accelerator.

The engine roared.

Palms sweating.

Mind racing.

Chest tightening.

He headed straight for the aircraft hangar.

The runway came into view—long, stretching toward the open sea, lit by blue guide lights.

And then—

He saw it.

A sleek white jet.

Arielle’s jet.

Already moving.

Already picking up speed.

“No…” he whispered, voice cracking with a rawness he didn’t expect.

He pressed the gas harder.

The ATV almost lifted off the ground.

Pero kahit anong bilis niya—

the jet was faster.

Its engines screamed as it rolled down the runway…

Then—

It lifted.

Elegant.

Powerful.

Untouchable.

Just like Arielle.

His hands tightened painfully around the steering wheel.

He skidded to a stop near the fence, gravel flying under the tires.

And he watched—

helpless—

as the jet rose higher, its lights glowing against the pale morning sky.

He could barely breathe.

Because for the first time in his life…

He realized what it felt like to lose something.

The jet tilted upward, climbing—

away from him.

Farther.

Higher.

His throat tightened.

Then finally

the only word he could muster escaped his lips—broken, hoarse, honest:

“Arielle…”

He didn’t look away.

Not until the jet disappeared into the clouds.

Not until there was nothing left to chase.

Not until the weight in his chest turned into something sharp… dangerous… unavoidable.

She ran.

And this time,

he knew—

he wasn’t letting her go for long.