Chapter Text
“Ang init talaga.”
I muttered under my breath, already regretting wearing jeans in this heat. The Philippines welcomed us back with its usual intensity—humid air clinging to my skin, sweat forming almost instantly. After years in Canada, I’d forgotten how relentless the heat could be.
I was walking around Trinoma, arms slightly full, mentally checking off items on my list. Decorations, food trays, random supplies—everything needed for what my relatives kept calling a family reunion. We had just arrived from Canada a few days ago, and somehow I was already assigned to do errands, as if jet lag didn’t exist.
“Te Adi, okay na ba ’to?” Shan asked beside me, holding a couple of shopping bags and looking dangerously close to complaining.
I glanced at what she was carrying and nodded. “Okay na. I’ll just buy the prizes for the games, then uuwi na tayo.” My feet were already aching, but I wanted to finish everything in one go.
“Okidoks!” she said way too cheerfully. Then her eyes lit up. “Mag-Jollibee nga tayo, please.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Of course she would ask that. Some things never changed—not the heat, not the chaos of coming home, and definitely not Shan’s craving for Jollibee the moment we landed back in the Philippines.
“Fine,” I sighed, pretending to be annoyed. “But after this last stop. Konting tiis na lang.”
She grinned, victorious, and just like that, the exhaustion felt a little lighter.
“Spicy Chickenjoy, sundae, fries, Aloha burger, saka spaghetti,” Shan said in one breath, like she’d been practicing the order since we landed.
I looked at her slowly. “Make sure uubusin mo ’yan ha,” I warned, deadpan. “Sasapakin talaga kita kapag may tira.”
She just laughed, completely unfazed, and walked ahead to look for a table while I lined up at the kiosk. I stared at the screen, mildly impressed. In fairness, may ganito na pala sa Pilipinas. Touchscreen, malaking display—parang wala na talagang kawala ang technology kahit saan ka magpunta.
I scrolled through the menu, eyes squinting as I searched for the Aloha burger.
Scroll. Pause. Scroll ulit.
“Huh?” I muttered.
I went back to the burgers section, slower this time, making sure I wasn’t just missing it. Wala. I checked again. Still nothing.
Baka wala na?
Phase out na ba ’yon?
For some reason, that thought bothered me more than it should. Maybe because some things felt comforting knowing they’d still be there after all these years—unchanged, waiting. Apparently, even that wasn’t guaranteed.
I was about to turn around and ask Shan if she wanted something else when I felt it.
That strange, unsettling sensation you get when someone’s presence shifts the air around you.
I glanced over my shoulder. And there she was.
Standing right behind me. My breath hitched.
What the hell?
What are the odds?
Seven years. Thousands of kilometers. And somehow, in the middle of a Jollibee in Trinoma, the one face I never expected—or prepared—to see again was right there, close enough that I could swear time had folded in on itself just to mess with me.
“Jael?” I muttered, the name slipping out before I could stop myself.
Ewan ko ba, pero biglang parang nag-slow motion lahat. The noise around us—the beeping from the kiosk, kids laughing, people talking—faded into the background. All I could focus on was her standing there, real and solid, not just some memory my mind decided to torture me with.
She looked… different. More mature. Sharper, somehow. But it was still her. The same eyes I used to memorize, now looking at me like she wasn’t sure if she was seeing a ghost.
Jael blinked, clearly confused, as if her brain was still catching up to what her eyes were seeing. Then her lips parted slightly.
“H-Hi?” she said, hesitant. “Adi?”
Hearing my nickname in her voice again felt like a punch straight to the chest.
Normal na nickname ko lang naman yan pero kapag siya talaga ang nagbanggit para akong binabaliw?
Seven years apart, and the first time we see each other again is here—of all places—standing in line for fast food, with unfinished sentences and a past neither of us ever really left behind.
I stared at her longer than what was socially acceptable.
I knew I was staring. A part of my brain was already screaming tigil, ang creepy mo, but my body refused to listen. Seven years of absence collapsed into one moment, and suddenly Jael was right there in front of me, breathing the same air, standing close enough that I could see the faint line between her brows when she frowned.
She shifted slightly, clearly uncomfortable, and that was when I realized—shit. I hadn’t said anything after calling her name.
I swallowed hard.
“Uh—” My voice cracked. Great. Amazing. Very cool, Adeline. “Sorry. I just… ikaw kasi…”
Smooth. Super smooth.
Jael let out a small, awkward laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Ikaw din. I mean—ang tagal na.”
Seven years.
Seven years, and that was all we had.
I finally forced myself to blink, to move, to act like a functioning adult instead of someone who had just seen a ghost from her past. My heart was beating so loudly I was sure she could hear it over the noise of the fast-food place.
“Are you—” I cleared my throat and tried again. “Are you alone?”
The question slipped out before I could overthink it. Immediately, I worried it sounded loaded. Like I was asking if she was with someone. Like I had any right to care.
Jael glanced behind her, scanning the area, then shook her head. “Yeah. I was just grabbing food. For myself.”
I nodded way too quickly. “Ah. Okay. Okay, good. I mean—not good. I mean—okay.”
She smiled at that. A small one. Careful. Polite. God, she still smiled the same way. I felt my chest tighten.
Behind me, Shan cleared her throat loudly from the table she’d claimed earlier. I turned just enough to see her giving me a look—the ‘ate, bakit parang natulala ka’ look—before going back to scrolling on her phone.
Right. I wasn’t alone. I was here with my sister. I was supposed to be ordering food. I was supposed to be normal.
Tangina kasi Jael, 7 years pero ang ganda ganda mo pa rin.
I turned back to Jael, suddenly hyper-aware of how close she was. Too close. Or maybe not close enough. I couldn’t tell anymore.
“Um,” I said, gesturing vaguely toward the tables. “If you want—ah—do you want to sit with us? I mean, if okay lang. Para… catch up. If you’re not busy.”
There it was. The invitation. Hanging between us. For a split second, I panicked.
What if she said no? What if she said she was meeting someone? What if she said she had somewhere else to be?
Paano kung ka meet niya pala ang jowa niya today?
What if she said yes?
Jael hesitated. I saw it in the way her eyes flickered, the way she pressed her lips together as if weighing something heavy. Then she looked at me again, really looked at me, like she was searching for something familiar in my face.
“Sure,” she said finally. “Okay lang naman, Adi.”
Relief hit me so hard I almost laughed.
“Great,” I said, a little too enthusiastically. “Nice. Sige. Order lang ako, andoon si Shan.”
I led the way back to the table, my legs feeling strangely weak. Every step felt surreal, like I was walking through a memory instead of a mall. When we reached the table, Shan looked up, eyes widening when she saw Jael.
“Shan,” I said quickly, before she could say anything embarrassing. “This is-.”
"Teh, kilala ko si Jaja, wag kang OA."
Jael smiled at her. “Hi Shan, long time no see.”
“Hi Jaja, ang galing naman nandito ka rin, nagkabalikan na kayo ni ate?” Shan replied automatically.
“Shan.” I warned.
Jael chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Okay lang.”
"Sobrang oa niyong dalawa, na para bang hindi niyo ako ginawang third wheel kapag tumatakas kayo kina Mama? Sus."
Kung pwede lang busalan ng burger itong bunganga ni Shanelle.
She pulled out the chair across from me and sat down, placing her bag neatly on her lap. I sat too, mirroring her movements without realizing it, my hands clasped together just to stop them from fidgeting.
There was a pause.
A long one.
The kind filled with all the things we didn’t say.
“So,” I started, then stopped. So what? So how have you been after we broke each other’s hearts? So did you hate me? So did you ever miss me the way I missed you?
Jael saved me. “You’re back,” she said gently. “From Canada.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Kakabalik lang namin. Like—days ago.”
“How long are you staying?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Maybe a few weeks. Maybe longer.”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly at that, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she nodded, fingers tightening briefly around the strap of her bag.
“And you?” I asked. “You… you live here?”
“Yeah. Still.” She smiled faintly. “Didn’t really leave.”
Something about that hit me harder than I expected.
“Oh,” I said. “That’s… nice.”
Another pause.
I realized then that I was staring again.
Not subtly. Not politely.
Just full-on looking at her face like I was afraid she’d disappear if I blinked too long.
Her hair was shorter now, falling just above her shoulders. She wore it tucked behind one ear, revealing a small scar near her jaw that I didn’t remember—but maybe it had always been there, and I’d just never noticed.
She caught me looking.
Her lips curved into an amused smile. “Okay ka lang ba?”
I snapped my gaze away immediately. “Yeah! Yes. Sorry. I’m just—jet lag. And ano—ang init.”
She laughed, really laughed this time, and the sound wrapped around my chest like muscle memory.
“Grabe, allergic ka pa rin sa init.”
“Hoy,” I protested weakly. “Hindi naman, mainit lang talaga today.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Weh?”
“Oo nga.” I said, risking another glance at her. “Ang bully mo pa rin.”
“Pikon ka pa rin.”
“Hindi ah!” I said, nodding, heart racing. Parang tanga naman kasi, ano 'to feeling college na naman ako?
Hindi, hindi pwede. Ganyan na ganyan yon, ngingiti tapos tatawa tapos hulog na hulog na naman ako.
For a moment, she just stared at me. Then she looked away, shaking her head with a small smile.
“Stop staring at me, kung ano ano naalala mo siguro.”
I remember everything, I wanted to say.
I remembered late-night calls, her sleepy voice, the way she used to hum absentmindedly when she was thinking. I remembered promises whispered across oceans and the sound of my own heart breaking when we finally admitted it wasn’t working.
But I didn’t say any of that.
Instead, I said, “So… kumusta ka?”
She leaned back slightly, considering. “Okay naman. Busy. Work. Life.”
“Do you—” I stopped myself again. “Sorry. Ang dami kong tanong.”
“It’s fine,” she said softly. “Kaya nga catch up diba.”
“Yeah?” I smiled awkwardly.
Our food arrived then—Shan’s mountain of Jollibee items, my own forgotten order. Shan immediately focused on her fries, thankfully giving us space.
Jael glanced at the tray. “Wow. Ang daming pagkain ah.”
“Lahat ’yan sa kanya,” I said, pointing at Shan. “Papauwiin ko yan mag-isa kapag may tira.”
Shan rolled her eyes. “OA, huwag niyo na akong pansinin, magcatch up na kayo dyan.”
Jael laughed again, and I swear, something in me cracked open.
God. I was so down bad it was embarrassing.
Seven years, countless distractions, new cities, new routines—and here I was, sitting across from her, acting like no time had passed at all.
I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice. “I didn’t think I’d see you today.”
“Me neither,” she admitted. “I almost didn’t come here.”
My heart skipped. “Why?”
She hesitated. “Bad feeling, I guess.”
I smiled, bittersweet. “Ang sama ng ugali mo pa rin noh.”
She met my gaze then, eyes steady, searching. “Joke lang naman grabe. I'm happy seeing you. Ikaw ba? Are you okay? Seeing me? Ganon.”
I opened my mouth, ready to say yes.
But the truth pressed heavy against my chest. I was okay. I was successful. I was standing on my own two feet. But sitting in front of Jael, realizing how much of me still recognized her as home—
I wasn’t sure if okay was the right word.
“I’m… okay. Of course, happy akong makita ka.” I said honestly.
She nodded, understanding more than I said out loud. And for the first time since I landed back in the Philippines, I felt it.
That familiar pull.
That dangerous, quiet hope. That maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t just a coincidence. And that terrified me just as much as it thrilled me.
“Nice catching up, nakalibre pa ng sundae.” Jael said softly as we stood near the exit, the noise of Trinoma rushing back into my ears like the world was finally unmuting itself.
I nodded, suddenly very aware that this moment felt like an ending—and I wasn’t ready for it.
“Yeah,” I replied. “It was… nice.”
Nice. Diyos ko, nice. Seven years and that’s all I could say.
She shifted her bag higher on her shoulder, clearly about to leave, and panic crept up my spine. My brain scrambled, looking for something—anything—to keep this from being the last interaction.
“Uh—Jael,” I blurted out.
She turned back to me.
My heart started sprinting.
“Pwede ko ba—” I stopped, swallowed, then tried again. “Pwede ko bang makuha… i-message mo? Just in case.”
I hated how my voice stuttered at the end, like I was fifteen again instead of someone who supposedly survived a whole other country. I scratched the back of my neck, suddenly hyper-aware of how desperate I probably looked.
Just in case of what, Adeline?
Just in case you miss her again?
Just in case this hurts later?
Jael blinked, then smiled—gentle, unguarded.
“Ah, sure,” she said easily, pulling out her phone.
Relief flooded me so fast I almost laughed.
We exchanged phones, fingers brushing for half a second—half a second—but my chest reacted like it was a full-on declaration. I typed my number slower than necessary, double-checking every digit like my life depended on it.
She handed my phone back.
“There,” she said. “Saved.”
I nodded. “Same.”
Another pause. Of course.
Then she spoke again. “Uh… how are you guys going home?”
“Grab lang,” I answered automatically. “Hindi ko nahiram yung car ng pinsan ko eh.”
“Oh.” She hesitated, then added, “I can drop you off, if okay lang. I’m parked lang naman nearby.”
My brain short-circuited.
Hatid?
As in… alone in a car with Jael?
As in confined space, no escape, just vibes and unresolved feelings?
I opened my mouth to decline. I should have declined. This was dangerous territory. I had just survived lunch without combusting—why push my luck?
But then she looked at me. Expectant. Hopeful, even.
“Ah,” I said intelligently. “Uh…”
Shan, who had been suspiciously quiet this whole time, suddenly perked up. “Ay oo, Jaja!” she said. “Para di na kami maghintay.”
I shot her a look. Traitor.
Jael chuckled. “Okay lang kung ayaw mo.”
“No,” I said quickly. Too quickly. “I mean—okay lang. If okay lang sa’yo.”
“Okay lang naman.” she replied.
And just like that, it was settled.
As we walked toward the parking area, my nerves returned tenfold. I was suddenly aware of how close we were walking, how our arms almost brushed, how I kept stealing glances at her reflection on glass walls like a creep.
When we reached the car, Jael unlocked it and gestured casually. “Sakay na kayo.”
I automatically went for the back seat, muscle memory kicking in—until Shan grabbed my arm.
“Doon ka na sa harap, te,” she said, already throwing herself into the back with the shopping bags. “Para may kausap si Jaja.”
I froze.
“Shan—” I hissed.
She ignored me completely.
Jael raised an eyebrow, amused. “Up to you.”
I hesitated for a solid three seconds, then sighed and opened the passenger door.
“Okay,” I muttered. “Sa harap na nga.”
The moment I sat down and closed the door, the space felt… intimate. Too quiet. Too familiar. Her scent hit me next—subtle, clean, unmistakably Jael—and my brain helpfully replayed memories I did not ask for.
She got in, started the engine, and glanced at me. “Seatbelt.”
“Ah—yes.” I fumbled for it, cheeks heating up.
As we pulled out of the parking lot, silence stretched between us—not awkward, exactly, but heavy. Loaded.
“So,” she said eventually. “Still not used to driving on this side?”
I smiled weakly. “Still adjusting to everything, honestly.”
She nodded. “I figured.”
I looked at her profile, the way the streetlights softened her features, and thought—fuck. I was still in trouble.
Sobrang ganda pa rin ni Robles.
Seven years, and one car ride was all it took to remind me:
I never really moved on.