Chapter 9
1818 Words
Tahimik na ang buong office floor. Ilang ilaw na lang ang bukas, mostly emergency lights at yung nasa pantry kung nasaan si Mikaela. She liked staying late sometimes. Mas tahimik. Mas walang tension. Walang kailangan iwasan. Wala si Brent.
At least, akala niya.
Nakatayo siya sa harap ng maliit na sink, iniikot-ikot ang teaspoon sa mug niya ng mainit na chamomile tea. Hindi siya mahilig sa herbal dati, pero ngayon, anything that could calm her nerves was welcome.
She took a sip. Hinga. Isa pa.
The silence was comforting—until narinig niya ang pamilyar na boses sa likod niya.
“Late ka na naman.”
Tumigil siya. She didn’t turn around immediately, but her hand froze mid-air, mug just inches from her lips.
Alam na niya kung sino yun.
Of course. Kasi bakit naman papayag ang universe na magkaroon siya ng isang peaceful night, diba?
Huminga siya nang malalim bago bumaling. “Yeah,” she said, voice steady kahit may konting lamig. “May kailangang tapusin.”
Brent nodded, nakasandal sa doorframe. Loose ang sleeves ng polo niya, may hawak ding mug, siguro kape.
“Busy week,” he said casually, stepping inside the pantry. “Or just trying to avoid people again?”
Mikaela raised a brow, trying to play it cool. “Hindi naman ako ganon ka-antisocial, Brent.”
Brent gave a half-smile. “No, just selectively civil?”
May bahid ng biro sa tono niya, pero may kurot din sa ilalim. Yung tipong di mo alam kung joke ba o may ibig sabihin.
Mikaela chuckled, dry and short. “Selective survival, actually.”
Tahimik ulit. Pareho silang uminom ng laman ng kani-kaniyang mug.
He moved closer, not invading her space, but enough para maramdaman niya ang presence niya. Familiar yet distant.
She kept her gaze on the steam coming from her tea. “Kung may kailangan ka, pwede mo namang sabihin directly. Wala na tayo sa stage na kailangan pa ng small talk.”
Brent looked at her. “What if I just wanted tea?”
“Then congrats,” she said, glancing at his cup. “Mission accomplished.”
He smiled a little at that. “You’re not making this easy.”
“Wasn’t trying to.”
Another pause. Hindi siya galit. Hindi siya bitter. Pero yung tension—nandun pa rin. Minsan, kahit civil ka na, may mga damdaming hindi basta naibaba ng ganun-ganun lang.
Pero somehow, standing here with him under the pantry’s soft lighting, something felt… a little less heavy.
Brent took a slow sip. “You know, you used to drink black coffee. Two sugars.”
She looked at him sharply. “That was years ago.”
“I remember.” He shrugged. “Habits change, I guess.”
“People change,” Mikaela corrected softly. “Or at least, they should.”
He nodded, eyes on her now. “I did.”
“Too late,” she muttered, more to herself than to him.
Pero narinig niya.
“I know,” he said quietly. “But I still want to try to fix… something. Kahit konti. Kahit as coworkers lang.”
Mikaela stared at her mug. Blank space. Empty thoughts.
Then, slowly, she nodded. “We’re already doing that. Being civil. Diba?”
“Yes,” he said. “Pero minsan, it still feels like you’re running away.”
She didn’t deny it. Kasi totoo.
“Hindi madali, Brent,” she said, finally facing him fully. “Kahit sabihin mong professional na lang tayo, kahit anong sabihin mo—hindi ganun kadaling i-flip yung switch. Kasi hindi naman ganun kababaw yung iniwan mo.”
There. That hit something in him. Kita sa mata niya.
“I know,” he said again, this time softer. “And I’m not asking you to forgive me, Mika. Just… sana, huwag mo nang patayin yung ilaw every time dumadaan ako.”
That made her laugh—short, surprised. “Metaphor ba 'yan o literal? Kasi minsan literal talaga.”
Brent laughed, too. “Kahit alin. I’ll take what I can get.”
For the first time in a while, they shared a smile that wasn’t forced. Konti lang. Sandali lang. Pero totoo.
Mikaela leaned back against the counter, pinaglalaruan ang mug niya habang si Brent ay naupo sa maliit na table sa gilid. Yung table na ginagamit ng employees pang midnight cup noodles or quick chismis breaks.
There was something strange about the silence now—hindi na kasing bigat. But it wasn’t comfortable either. Parang pause sa gitna ng kanta, where you know something’s coming next. You just don’t know kung masakit ba o magaan.
“Do you still hate me?” tanong ni Brent, almost too casually, but the way he gripped his mug said otherwise.
Mikaela blinked. “Wow. Jump scare naman ‘yan.”
Brent chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. Medyo derecho. Pero curious lang. You’re civil. You’re polite. Pero… I can’t tell if you’re just being professional or if you secretly want to punch me every time I’m in the same room.”
She stared at him, then took another sip. “A bit of both, I guess.”
He looked down, nodding. “Fair.”
Tahimik ulit.
Mikaela bit her lower lip, debating with herself. Then, she spoke—softer this time. “I don’t hate you.”
Brent’s eyes flicked up to her face.
“I did,” she continued. “For a long time. Like, gusto kitang balatan gamit stapler hate. But now? Hindi na siya ganun ka-intense. More like… residual annoyance.”
He laughed again—short, surprised. “Residual annoyance, huh?”
“Yeah. Yung parang—naalala mo 'yung Excell na file na nagka-error months ago tapos parang siya pa rin yung reason kung bakit di gumagana yung bagong version ngayon? Ganun.”
“Corrupted legacy file ako?” he asked, mock offended.
“More like… glitch you’ve learned to work around.”
Brent grinned, nodding slowly. “Okay. I can live with that.”
But then she added, voice dropping a little, “Pero that doesn’t mean wala nang nasaktan. Or nawala.”
He sat straighter. “I know.”
“You disappeared, Brent,” she said, still calm, but her eyes were sharper now. “Hindi ka lang basta umalis. You ghosted me. No text. No call. Wala. Akala ko, may nangyari sayo. Akala ko I did something wrong. I waited. I stayed. I hoped.”
Brent’s jaw clenched, and he set his mug down carefully. “I wanted to reach out. A hundred times. Pero—”
“But you didn’t,” she cut in gently.
He nodded.
“Don’t you think I deserved better than that?” she asked.
“You did,” he answered quickly. “You do.”
Mikaela looked away, blinking rapidly. She wasn’t going to cry. Not here. Not now. Not in front of him.
“Why?” she asked. “You owe me that. Kahit saglit lang.”
Brent ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “My dad got sick. Really sick. I panicked. I shut down. I left for the States with barely any warning. Everything happened so fast—hospital, treatment, paperwork. I wasn’t thinking straight. I told myself I’d message you as soon as I settled but…”
“You didn’t,” she finished for him again. “You ghosted me during the worst cliffhanger of my life.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be.”
They let that sit for a while. Yung sorry na hindi sapat, pero kailangan paring marinig.
“Alam mo ba,” Mikaela started again, half-smiling this time, “na for weeks, sinisisi ko sarili ko? I thought I was too clingy. Or too intense. Or too ambitious. Kasi ang dali mo lang nawala, eh. Parang hindi ako mahalaga.”
“You were,” he said quietly.
“Then why did you let me feel like I wasn’t?”
Brent looked at her like he didn’t know how to answer that without falling apart. “Because I was scared. Because I was selfish. Because I thought cutting clean would spare you the pain.”
“Well,” Mikaela said, lifting her mug, “that plan backfired spectacularly.”
He nodded. “Yup. Not my best moment.”
May awkward silence uli—pero this time, may bahid na ng humor. Mas madali na ang huminga.
“I hated myself too, you know,” Brent murmured. “For hurting you. For choosing the easy way out. Every time I thought of messaging you, I’d freeze. Kasi what if you hated me? What if I already ruined everything?”
“You did,” she said, but there was no malice in it anymore. “But I survived it.”
“I know,” he whispered. “And you’re… you’re still amazing.”
Mikaela gave him a look. “Uy. Wag mo akong i-flatter. We agreed—civil lang.”
“Sorry,” he said, raising his hands in mock defense. “It slipped.”
She rolled her eyes, but her lips curved slightly. “Grabe ka. Minsan talaga, akala mo romcom tayo tapos biglang naging trauma bonding documentary.”
“Story of my life,” he quipped.
May natawa sa kanila pareho. Genuine laughter. Finally.
Then, Brent stood up and walked slowly toward her. Not too close, not too pushy. Just near enough to feel honest.
“Can I ask something?”
“Depends. Ano yan? HR-approved ba ‘yan?”
Brent smirked. “Totally. No boundary-crossing. Just… gusto ko lang malaman kung okay lang ba na minsan, I say hi. Small things lang. Like… passing by your desk and not pretending you’re invisible.”
Mikaela paused. Then she nodded. “Okay.”
“And… kung sakaling mapadaan ako uli dito sa pantry next time… okay lang bang sabayan kitang uminom ng tea?”
She looked up at him, amused. “Only if you promise not to psychoanalyze my drink choice next time.”
“Deal,” he said with a smile.
“And no weird metaphors.”
“Too late,” he winked.
She shook her head, laughing softly. “Grabe. Same ka pa rin minsan.”
“Trying not to be.”
Mikaela studied him for a moment, then looked down at her now empty mug. “I’m still not ready to be your friend.”
“I’m not asking for that,” he said, voice steady. “I’m just glad hindi mo na ako pinapadlock sa elevator.”
She laughed again, this time lighter. “That was one time. And you were being annoying.”
“Ano bang bago?”
They stood in silence again, but this time, there was no tension. Just two people in the middle of healing. Not fixing everything, but making room for something—something small, something soft, something civil.
- Writer
