Chapter 8
1212 Words
Mikaela kept her head down, figuratively and literally.
Every time she heard the sound of Brent’s door opening, nag-aautomatic ang instinct niya—lipat ng pwesto, kunwari may urgent call, or biglang pupunta ng pantry. She knew it was childish, maybe even unprofessional. But her heart hadn’t caught up with her brain yet. Yung logic sinasabi, “He’s your boss. Act normal.” Pero yung puso? “Stay away. Protect yourself.”
She took the long way around just to get to the printer, even if mas malapit sa office ni Brent yung usual route. Pag alam niyang may meeting si Brent sa conference room, she volunteered to run errands sa ibang floor. Nakaka-drain, yes—but it was easier than pretending she was okay.
And Brent noticed.
Actually, matagal na niyang napapansin.
At first, akala niya coincidence lang. That maybe Mikaela was just unusually busy or may sabay-sabay lang na deadlines. Pero nung halos isang linggo na siyang iniiwasan nito—no eye contact, no greetings, no professional updates unless kailangan na talaga—he realized, it was intentional.
Lalo na nung Lunes ng umaga, pumasok siya sa pantry at si Mikaela lang ang nandoon. Pagkakita sa kanya, biglang iniligpit nito ang mug at parang nagmamadaling lumabas.
That stung more than it should have.
So by Tuesday, Brent made a decision.
He called her into his office.
Just a quick knock on her cubicle from his executive assistant, followed by: “Sir Brent’s asking if you could come in for a few minutes.”
“Okay, thanks,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
Pero sa loob niya, kaba na naman. As if her ribs were too tight around her lungs.
She took a deep breath before knocking on the frosted glass door.
“Come in.”
Pumasok siya, nakaayos pa rin ng maayos—blouse tucked into slacks, hair in a neat low bun. But her eyes gave her away. She looked tired. Worn. Distant.
Brent stood up and gestured toward the seat in front of his desk.
“Have a seat, Mika.”
Mika. That used to sound sweet. Now it sounded too familiar.
She sat, careful to keep a neutral expression. “Is there something you needed, Sir?”
Sir.
“Yeah,” he started, leaning back. His sleeves were rolled up, collar slightly open. Casual but firm. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about… this.”
“This?” she echoed.
“The way you’ve been acting around me lately.”
Straight to the point. Walang paligoy-ligoy.
“I noticed you’ve been avoiding me.”
Mikaela stayed silent.
“And I get it,” he continued, his voice softer. “After what happened—after everything—I know things aren’t easy between us. But we work in the same company. And I’m your direct superior.”
“I’m aware,” she said quickly, almost defensively.
Brent raised a brow, noticing the tension in her tone.
“I’m not saying you need to be okay with me, Mika,” he said. “I’m not asking you to forget anything. I just think… for the sake of both of us, and for the team, we should at least try to be civil.”
That word—civil—landed between them like a dull blade. Not sharp, but heavy.
Mikaela looked down at her hands.
She hated that she was shaking slightly. Hated that even now, after everything, his presence still had that effect on her.
But he was right.
She was being unfair, not just to him, but to herself and her responsibilities.
Finally, she spoke.
“Okay.”
Brent blinked. “Okay?”
“I agree,” she said, lifting her gaze. “Let’s be civil. Just that.”
There was something in her tone—not cold, but resigned. As if she was drawing a line with invisible ink.
Brent gave a small nod. “Good.”
Silence settled for a moment.
Mikaela stood up, thinking that was it.
But just as she reached for the door, Brent added quietly, “I meant it, by the way.”
She turned, confused. “Meant what?”
“That I’m sorry.”
Mikaela’s chest tightened.
She stared at him, uncertain if she wanted to acknowledge it. But after a beat, she gave a small nod, lips pressed together.
“Noted.”
And with that, she left the office, her footsteps steady—but her heart once again in turmoil.
The Rest of the Week
From that day on, Mikaela kept her promise.
Civil.
She made sure to greet him in meetings, give reports directly without detours, and even reply politely when he asked about project updates. No extra words. No unnecessary interactions. Just enough to do her job well and keep things neutral.
To others, parang normal na lahat. But she knew Brent could tell the difference.
Before, there was warmth. Even during the earliest days ng balik niya sa company, may awkwardness man, may unspoken tension—but there was something. Now? Parang clinical. Sterile. Business-only.
She thought it would feel safer. Cleaner.
Pero minsan, habang nagpapaliwanag siya sa mga figures sa quarterly report, she’d feel his gaze lingering. Not inappropriately, but with a kind of sadness. As if he missed something they never really got to finish.
Mikaela stood still, mug halfway full.
She wanted to correct them. Or deny. Or escape.
But she just sighed and walked away.
It was easier to pretend wala na siyang nararamdaman.
Pero to be honest, may kirot pa rin.
Hindi dahil gusto pa niya si Brent. Hindi rin dahil kulang si Martin.
But maybe because she never really got to process the end.
Wala silang proper closure.
Yung bigla na lang itong nawala noon. Walang paliwanag. Walang goodbye.
At ngayon, he was back in her life—powerful, present, and still capable of shaking her even when he didn’t mean to.
She rubbed her temples and sighed.
Napagod siya. Hindi lang sa trabaho, kundi sa emosyon.
Tumayo siya para magtimpla ng tea. Tahimik ang office, dimmed lights na. Sa pantry, she leaned against the counter, staring blankly out the window.
“Late ka na naman.”
She flinched slightly at the voice.
Paglingon niya—Brent.
Of course.
“Yeah,” she replied, calm and steady. “I had reports to finish.”
He nodded, then took a few steps inside. “You’ve been working too hard.”
“I like being busy,” she said simply. “Helps me think less.”
Brent gave a soft, almost sad smile. “I know the feeling.”
Tahimik.
Then, before she could leave, he spoke again.
“Thanks… for agreeing to be civil.”
Mikaela looked at him, eyes tired. “I wasn’t doing it for you.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“I’m doing it for myself. Kasi ayoko nang madamay pa 'yung trabaho ko. I need the peace.”
“You deserve that peace,” he said softly.
And this time, she saw it—genuine remorse in his eyes.
For a split second, she felt something inside her loosen. Not forgiveness, maybe not even understanding. But acknowledgment.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I do.”
And she walked away.
- Writer
