Love, Heila (Tagalog)

Chapter 4

By two o'clock in the afternoon, the sky had settled into a dull, unmoving sheet of gray. The heavy rains had finally stopped, leaving behind the rhythmic drip-drop of water falling from the rusted gutters of the shop. True to his word, Rehan had returned before noon from the mayoral wedding delivery. He didn't say much—just handed me the signed delivery receipt from the coordinator, who had apparently called me ten minutes later to praise the "quiet, incredibly handsome driver" who delivered the cascading orchids without a single petal out of place.

"You did good today, Rehan," sabi ko habang nilalagay ang resibo sa loob ng cash register. "Salamat. Iniligtas mo talaga ang shop ngayon. If we lost that client, baka tuluyan na akong nabaon sa utang."

Rehan, who was busy wiping down the dashboard of the old delivery van in the side alley, didn't look up immediately. He paused, his long, pale fingers tightening around the cleaning cloth. He let out a low, slow breath, his voice cutting through the humid afternoon air with its usual sharp, accented cadence.

"I told you I wouldn't fail," he said flatly, keeping his gaze fixed on the steering wheel. "A deal is a deal. I need a place to stay, Heila. This job... it is enough for me."

Napatitig ako sa kaniya mula sa bukas na pinto ng shop. There was something so intensely guarded about him. Kahit na nakatulong siya sa akin, hindi mo maramdaman na gusto niyang makipagkaibigan. He was like a ghost passing through, trying his best not to leave any footprints behind. Bago ko pa man siya matanong kung saan siya natulog kagabi, pumasok na siya sa loob ng pantry para magtimpla ng tsaa, effectively closing off any room for conversation.

"Grabe naman 'tong ulan na 'to, parang walang katapusan!"

The sudden, loud exclamation pulled me out of my thoughts. The back door slammed open, and Hijomi walked in, looking completely disheveled. His pants were rolled up to his knees, covered in dried mud, and his hair looked like a bird's nest.

"Hijomi!" I gasped, relieved to see him. "Are you okay? Kumusta ang bahay niyo? Ang tita mo?"

"Heto, buhay pa naman, Heila," he groaned, dropping heavily onto a plastic stool and aggressively wiping his neck with a towel. "Bumaba na 'yung tubig sa tapat namin, pero grabe, ang dumi ng buong compound. I had to make sure my aunt was safe with our neighbors before I rushed over here. Sobra akong alala kagabi dahil sa mayoral wedding! Did we lose the client?!"

"No, we didn't," I said, pointing toward the side alley. "Rehan handled it perfectly. Bago mag-eight ng umaga, na-deliver niya lahat ng kailangan sa venue."

Hijomi blinked in surprise, turning his head to look through the glass partition into the pantry, where Rehan was quietly standing by the window with his mug of tea. "Seryoso? Nagawa ng Koreanong 'yan? Wow. Hindi ko akalain na maaasahan pala ang isang 'yan."

"He's staying, Hijomi. Pinalitan ko muna ang mga susi ng van," I told him quietly. "He needs a job, and frankly, with the amount of deliveries we've been getting from corporate accounts lately, we need the extra hands anyway. Magtulungan na lang kayo rito."

"Sa bagay," Hijomi muttered, leaning back against the wall. "Pero mag-ingat ka pa rin, Heila. We don't know anything about that guy. He looks like a celebrity, but he acts like a cold wall. May tinataguan 'yan, pusta ko pa ang motor ko."

I didn't answer. Instead, my eyes drifted to the small, framed photograph of my mother sitting on the wooden shelf. Seeing her warm, gentle smile always brought a bittersweet ache to my chest. Three years ago, when the hospital bills piled up and her breath finally faded, she left me this shop. It wasn't just a building; it was her heart. She used to tell me that flowers bloom best when they are surrounded by people who need comfort. Right now, looking at the silent Rehan in the pantry and thinking about my mounting utility bills, I just hoped her shop could survive another month.

The sharp, familiar ring of the brass bell broke my thoughts.

Ting.

I turned my head, forcing a welcoming smile, only to see Marion Devan walking in. Unlike yesterday, he wasn't wearing his full business suit. He wore a neat, dark blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, looking every bit the exhausted but dedicated corporate professional. As the Marketing Department Head of a major consumer goods firm nearby, his schedule was always brutal, yet here he was again.

"Good afternoon, Heila," he greeted, his voice carrying that innate, gentle politeness that made him stand out. He held a small corporate planner in one hand. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Mr. Marion! Long time no see," I teased softly, walking over to the counter. "How is everything? And Leticia?"

A subtle, brief shadow passed over Marion's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a warm, fond smile. He set his planner down. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Actually, I'm here because our marketing department is hosting an executive dinner this Friday. I was wondering if your shop could cater the table centerpieces? Nothing too grand, just something elegant and understated."

"Of course! We can definitely do that," I said, pulling out my order notebook, genuinely touched by his support. "You keep giving us business, Mr. Marion. Malaking tulong ito para sa shop namin."

"It's the least I can do. Your arrangements are really great," Marion said softly. He leaned against the counter, his expression turning thoughtful. "As for Leticia, she has been under so much pressure lately with her family's expectations. Her parents are very traditional, very strict. They’ve been pushing her to climb the corporate ladder quickly, and I know our upcoming wedding planning is adding to her stress. I just want to support her in every way possible, even if it means stepping back and giving her the space she asks for."

Listening to him speak, my heart ached for how genuinely good he was. Marion wasn't just trying to maintain a relationship; he was actively trying to shelter the woman he loved from her own storms. He was the definition of a green flag—unwavering, understanding, and completely selfless. He didn't mention that his own family was mostly gone, leaving him to build his corporate career entirely from scratch through sleepless nights in the marketing department. He poured all his concepts of family and stability into Leticia.

"She’s lucky to have you, Mr. Marion," I said sincerely as I noted down the details for the Friday event. "Not many men would be this patient."

"When you love someone for five years, Heila, their happiness becomes your priority," Marion replied with a genuine, quiet warmth. "Relationship dynamics change, and right now, she just needs me to be her anchor while she figures out her career. I’m okay with that."

From the doorway of the pantry, the slatted blinds shifted. Rehan stood there, holding his empty tea mug. He had been listening to the entire conversation. His dark, icy eyes fixed onto Marion’s back, his expression unreadable but intense. He didn't say a word, but there was a strange stiffness in his posture, like a man observing a completely foreign concept of devotion.

"Anyway, I should get back to the office. We have a campaign launch review in thirty minutes," Marion said, checking his watch with a light laugh. "I'll settle the down payment for the centerpieces via bank transfer tonight, Heila."

"Got it, Mr. Marion. Drive safely, especially near the bypass road!" I called out as he picked up his planner, gave a polite nod toward the back room where Hijomi was waving, and walked out into the cool afternoon air.

The shop fell quiet again. I looked down at the order book, feeling a deep sense of respect for Marion’s dedication.

"He is stupid," a low, accented baritone suddenly broke the silence.

I snapped my head around. Rehan had walked out of the pantry, placing his empty mug loudly on the counter. His face was a mask of cold indifference, but his words were sharp. "Giving someone too much space only teaches them how to live without you. He is setting himself up for a fall."

"Rehan!" I frowned, instantly defensive of Marion. "Hindi mo siya kilala. He’s just being a supportive fiancé. Hindi lahat ng tao ay kasinglamig mo mag-isip."

Rehan didn't argue. He simply turned his gaze toward the front window, watching Marion's car pull away. A heavy, dark silence settled over him, and for a split second, he looked incredibly lonely—like a prince who had discarded his crown, sitting in a small flower shop in a foreign land, running away from a family empire and a ticking clock that nobody else could see.