Work Text:
Year 2026
The sound of her alarm early in the morning was dreadful. The worst part of being a night person was having to work in the morning, especially when it was already Friday. The exhaustion brought by the whole week was seeping through her bones, making her limbs heavier than they were on Thursday.
Shane reached for her phone on her side table. It was barely six in the morning, but for someone whose work started at eight, being awake at six was the bare minimum. It was a blessing that she found a position at a company just ten minutes away from where she was staying.
Even with heavy limbs and a worn-out body, Shane pushed herself up and took deep breaths. The sun was beginning to rise, which meant she needed to stand and make her coffee.
Shane dragged her body to the kitchen and pushed the coffee maker to begin brewing. She opened her fridge and took out her pre-made overnight oats, which she’s getting tired of, if she’s being honest.
But she does what she needs to do. If it works, it works. There was no need to put another thing into her routine because she’s already content with what she’s doing. Shane finished the oats without even realizing it. She placed it on the sink and then proceeded to pour her coffee.
The smell of caffeine filled the apartment. She looked around and noticed the tiny details of the space she called her own. Every inch of it was all her decision; every decor was on her.
For a moment, she leaned against the counter, mug warm in her hands, staring out the small kitchen window. The city was beginning to be loud as more people were starting their days.
Every day was the same. Every day was no better or worse than the previous one.
Three years. For three straight years, it was the same.
Overnight oats.
Coffee.
A shower.
A quiet walk to work.
Her friends called it boring. Her coworkers called it simple. For Shane, it’s stability.
For the past years, her coworkers have tried setting her up with different men. Telling her different phrases, all with the same meaning.
You should try dating apps.
Reto kita sa kakilala ko.
May friend ako, baka type mo.
They all want her to find someone, to date someone. But the thing is, Shane doesn’t want that.
Every single time it was brought up, Shane gave them a small smile that ended the conversation without causing an argument.
Because if she was being honest, she doesn’t feel like there was a need to meet someone. Let alone to get into a relationship with someone. There was nothing missing in her life that could ruin her perfectly crafted routine.
Shane rinsed the bowl and mug in the sink, left it on the rack to dry, and walked to her room to prepare for her day. Nothing complicated. Black slacks. A tucked-in button-up. She wore her watch on her wrist. Her hair was pulled back neatly. The same clean, simple look she’d worn to work for years.
Routine wasn’t suffocating to her. It was grounding.
Once ready, Shane slipped on her shoes, grabbed her bag, and stepped out into the cool morning air. The sun wasn’t painful on the skin yet, so she took her time, taking one step at a time.
The walk to work took about fifteen minutes. She still had thirty minutes to spare.
Shane kept a steady pace with her bag slung over her shoulder.
Walking cleared her head. No crowded buses. There was a bit of traffic when going to certain buildings. Just the rhythm of her steps and the city slowly stretching awake around her.
Her coworkers said she should “try new things.”
But Shane had never understood the pressure.
Dating just to date felt… pointless. At least now, it does.
And besides, if she were being honest with herself, the men people tried to set her up with never interested her in the slightest. Not the charming ones, not the confident ones, not the ones her friends swore were perfect. They were arrogant and proud, and all they could talk about were themselves and their achievements in life, which, if Shane was just cruel, weren’t much.
Maybe her standards were high.
Too high, according to her friends.
She liked sharp minds. Quiet confidence. Someone who could challenge her, surprise her, and make her feel something beyond polite conversation. Someone steady. Someone interesting.
Someone rare.
Someone she used to know.
Most people bored her within ten minutes.
So Shane stopped trying. In her utmost defense, she really did try.
She was halfway down the block when her phone buzzed in her coat pocket.
She almost ignored it.
Morning calls were rarely urgent and almost never pleasant. But the vibration kept going, so she stopped at the corner and pulled it out.
Carly’s name flashed on the screen of her phone.
Shane sighed softly before answering. “Good morning din sayo, Carly.”
“Sobrang excited mo naman marinig ako,” Carly said immediately. Her voice was bright in that aggressively cheerful way that meant she wanted something.
Shane resumed walking. “Wala pang eight ng umaga, may karapatan pa akong magsungit."
“I have news.”
“Parang hindi ko na agad gusto yung sasabihin mo.”
She heard Carly giggle from the other line before she answered, “May mini reunion tayo. Sa Sunday. Pumunta ka ha.”
Shane slowed slightly. “...What?”
“College. Etong Sunday. Hindi naman bongga. Kape pati usap lang.”
Shane turned the corner toward the familiar street that led to her office building. “Carly.”
“Yes?”
“Ayoko.”
“Ni hindi mo nga pinagisipan!”
“Hindi ko kailngan pagisipan.”
“Shane.”
She could practically hear Carly rolling her eyes through the phone.
“Wala ka nang kinakausap for years. Aside from me, hindi ka nila nakikita” Carly continued. “Maraming umuwi galing ibang bansa. Besides, it’s not even a big event. Just a small gathering. Magkakape lang.”
Shane watched a cyclist pass by. “That sounds exactly like a big event.”
“God, kailan ka pa naging taong kuweba.”
“I walk outside every day.”
“That doesn’t count.”
Shane was about to respond when Carly added casually, “Umuwi na si Gia, by the way.”
She stopped walking.
The world didn’t dramatically shift or anything like that. Cars still passed. Someone across the street laughed.
But something in her chest paused.
“Oh.”
Just that.
Just a quiet, neutral sound.
On the other end of the line, Carly went silent for a moment, probably waiting for a bigger reaction.
She didn’t get one.
Shane resumed walking.
“Okay,” she said simply.
“Okay?” Carly repeated.
“Sige, pupunta ako, pero hindi ako magpapagabi.”
“Five PM yung meeting time.”
Shane shrugged even though Carly couldn’t see it. “Hindi ako magpapaumaga”
Gia.
The name sat somewhere deep in her memory, familiar in a way that felt almost like muscle memory.
Four years.
They had spent four years together.
Two of those years living in the same apartment, where they were splitting groceries, arguing over whose turn it was to wash dishes, and falling asleep on the couch during movie nights. Their lives had once been woven together so naturally it felt permanent.
Until it wasn’t.
The breakup hadn’t been explosive.
No shouting. No betrayal. No slammed doors.
Just a long conversation at their kitchen table one quiet night.
It was just two people realizing they weren’t growing in the same direction anymore.
It had been strange how calm it felt. Sad, yes. But also… inevitable.
Like noticing a shirt you loved didn’t quite fit anymore. Like realizing that the childhood dream you once bragged about wasn’t the goal anymore.
The change happened without either of them realizing it.
“Sobrang kalmado mo naman,” Carly said.
Shane approached the glass doors of her office building.
“We broke up three years ago.”
“Four years ang naging relasyon niyo, Shane.”
“Oo nga.”
“Nag live in kayo.”
Shane nodded, “Oo rin.”
“Sabi mo papakasalan mo siya.”
Shane pushed the door open and stepped inside the lobby. “Sabi ko rin na ako ang unang babaeng pupunta sa Jupiter,” she said dryly. “People grow, Carls.”
Carly made a frustrated sound.
“Bakit parang wala lang siya sayo?”
Shane paused by the elevator.
Of course Gia mattered. She will always matter to Shane. Gia taught her how to love and how great it feels when done right. She will always matter because she is important.
That’s it. Important.
But also… part of a different life.
“Hindi naman sa wala lang siya,” Shane replied calmly.
The elevator dinged open.
“Pero ang tagal na naming break, Carly. Syempre parehas kaming naka-move on na.”
Carly softened slightly. “It wasn’t a bad breakup.”
“Hindi nga.”
"Actually, it was probably the healthiest breakup I’ve ever seen.”
Shane stepped inside and pressed her floor.
“Nasa elevator ako ha? Baka maputol, pero kung hindi, swerte mo. And yes, it was a healthy breakup because we were honest.”
“Yeah,” Carly said. “Pero ano yun? Good morning, mahal kita pero this ain’t gonna work? Who does that?”
“Adults,” Shane said. “Adults can outgrow each other despite the presence of love, Carls.”
The elevator began to rise.
Carly hesitated before asking, quieter now, “Okay lang ba sayo na nandun siya?”
Shane thought about it for a moment.
Really thought.
Images surfaced briefly: late-night grocery runs, Gia humming while cooking, and the two of them assembling cheap furniture in their first shared apartment.
Memories that no longer hurt.
Just… existed.
“Hindi,” Shane said finally.
And she meant it.
But the memories of their breakup resurface as if it happened just yesterday.
Year 2023
Three years earlier, the apartment felt smaller than it used to.
Not physically. The same couch sat against the same wall, the same string lights still hung crookedly above the window, and the same coffee table still had that tiny scratch from when they dropped a toolbox while assembling it two years ago.
But something about the space had changed.
Shane stood in the kitchen stirring pasta in a pot, the soft bubbling filling the quiet. The TV played faintly in the living room, where Gia was sitting on the couch, laptop balanced on her knees.
“Wala na ba tayong mantika?”
Gia didn’t look up. “Second cabinet.”
Shane opened it. “Right.”
A pause.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
The conversation ended there.
It had been happening more often lately. From small exchanges to functional and polite conversations. Like coworkers sharing a break room.
Shane drained the pasta and plated two portions automatically. She didn’t even ask if Gia was hungry anymore. Four years together made some things instinct.
“Kakain na,” she said.
“Oks,” Gia put her laptop down and muted the TV before she came to the kitchen.
They sat across from each other at the small dining table.
For a while the only sound was the quiet clink of forks against plates.
“Carly texted earlier,” Gia said eventually.
Shane nodded. “About what?”
“Gusto raw niya mag Elyu.”
“Oh.”
“Tinatanong if gusto nating sumama.”
Shane chewed thoughtfully. “Kailan ba?”
“Next month.”
Another pause.
“Check ko schedule ko,” Shane said.
Gia nodded.
They used to talk during dinner.
About everything. Classes back then. Work gossip. Random things they saw online. Plans for trips they couldn’t afford yet. Dreams about where they’d be in five or ten years.
Now dinner was… quiet.
Not uncomfortable.
Just empty.
Later that night, Shane washed the dishes while Gia dried them. They’d fallen into that system months ago without discussing it.
“May mantika pa oh,” Gia said, tapping the edge of a plate.
Shane rinsed it again. “Okay na.”
They worked side by side in silence.
When they finished, Gia tossed the towel over the counter.
“Manonood ako,” she said.
“Sige.”
Shane stayed in the kitchen a little longer, wiping an already clean counter. From the living room came the soft sound of a sitcom laugh track.
At some point, Shane joined Gia on the couch.
They sat shoulder to shoulder, but not touching.
That used to be different too.
Once upon a time, Gia would have tucked her legs over Shane’s lap. Shane would have absentmindedly played with her hair. They would’ve argued over what show to watch before settling on something neither of them really liked.
Now they just watched.
When the episode ended, Gia stretched.
“Matutulog na ‘ko.”
“Sige,” Shane said.
Gia paused like she was about to say something else. Instead, she just nodded and walked down the hall.
Shane stayed on the couch for another episode before finally turning off the TV.
When she entered the bedroom, Gia was already under the covers scrolling on her phone.
Shane changed quietly and slipped into bed beside her.
They lay there, backs nearly touching but not quite.
“Goodnight,” Gia said.
“Goodnight.”
The lights went off. The room fell silent except for the soft hum of the air conditioner.
The realization wasn’t sudden. It was slow but sure.
The thought settled into place with a strange kind of calm.
This doesn’t feel like a relationship anymore.
It felt like sharing an apartment with someone she cared about deeply.
But it's not like being in love. Not anymore.
The next evening it was Gia who spoke first. Shane had just walked in from work, dropping her bag by the door, when Gia appeared.
"Hey," Gia called.
She answered, "Hey."
There was something different in Gia’s voice.
It was careful.
It was measured.
“Pwede ba tayong mag-usap?” she asked.
Shane paused. The words weren’t alarming. Not exactly. But something about them carried weight. Maybe she also hoped to prolong whatever it was they were about to talk about.
“Yeah,” Shane said quietly.
They moved to the kitchen table. The same place they’d eaten dinner together almost every night for two years.
Gia sat across from her, fingers loosely intertwined. For a long moment neither of them spoke.
Then Gia exhaled.
“Okay,” she said softly, like she was steadying herself.
Shane watched her, already feeling that strange calm again.
Gia looked up. “May nag-iba ba?”
Shane didn’t ask what she meant. She already knew. “Meron.”
Gia’s shoulders dropped slightly, almost like relief. “Akala ko ako lang.”
“No,” Shane said gently. “Ramdam ko rin… ramdam na ramdam ko rin.”
Silence filled the space between them again.
Not tense. Just heavy.
“Pakiramdam ko kasi, hindi na kita kilala. Hindi ko na tayo kilala,” Gia said after a moment.
Shane nodded slowly. “Ako rin.”
Gia stared down at the table.
“Pero okay kasi tayo,” she said. “Hindi tayo nag-aaway, hindi tayo nagtatalo.”
“We work together really well,” Shane finished.
Gia gave a small, sad smile. “Shane…” They sat with that for a moment. Then Gia asked quietly, “Ganito na lang ba tayo?”
Shane didn’t answer immediately. She thought about the couch. The quiet dinners. The space between them in bed.
The way their life together had slowly shifted from partners to something softer, flatter.
“Mahal kita,” Shane said carefully. Gia looked up. “Pero hindi ko rin alam kung bakit minsan, gusto ko na lang na ako lang.”
Gia nodded, eyes glistening slightly.
“Soulmate kita, Shane.”
“Alam ko.”
Neither of them has cried yet. The realization had been coming for too long for it to feel shocking. It felt like it was always there, just not addressed.
Gia leaned back in her chair. “Iniisip ko na baka kasi phase lang. Na baka pagod lang sa trabaho, kasi syempre parehas tayong may work araw-araw,” she admitted. “Pero kasi kahit weekend, hindi naman na tayo nag-uusap.”
“Alam ko.”
Another quiet moment passed.
Then Gia asked the question they were both circling. “Anong gagawin natin, Shane?”
Shane looked at her. At the person who had been her home for four years.
Her partner.
Her family, in a way.
And somehow the answer didn’t feel angry or desperate.
Just honest.
“Sa tingin ko tama na,” Shane said softly.
Gia’s eyes filled with tears, but she nodded. “Sorry.” The sight sent a chill down Shane’s spine. She felt her heart clench in pain, longing for the time when it was all happiness and not this cold emptiness she was feeling.
“Gi, I’m so sorry,” she reached out and held Gia’s hands. “Sana naagapan natin..”
“Pero kasi,” Gia sounded unconsolable. “Sinubukan ko naman ayusin…”
“I know,” Shane answered. The attempt to fix ‘them’ was there. For both of them, it didn’t last long because they wanted different things in life.
“Sorry talaga, Shane.”
“Sorry rin, Gia.”
That was the strange thing about their breakup.
There was no shouting. No accusations.
Just two people sitting at a kitchen table, realizing their love had changed shape.
Gia laughed weakly through the tears. “Akala ko aawayin mo ako.”
Shane huffed a quiet laugh. “Hindi ko naman kasi kayang magalit sayo, Gi.”
Gia wiped her face. “Four years.”
“I know.”
“How do we live without each other? Eh parehas nating sinimulan ang pagiging adult nang magkasama?”
Shane pulled her hands back and clasped them together. “I guess malalaman natin ngayon.”
“Kakausapin ko landlord natin,” Gia said.
Shane nodded. Then Gia reached across the table. Shane took her hand automatically. They sat there like that for a long time. Two people who still loved each other. Just not in the way they used to.
Year 2023
Shane had memorized how their unit looked like the back of her hand. The formerly spacious two-bedroom condo now felt like the smallest space in the world. Boxes are sorted according to their contents. Clothes, utensils, and house displays. And they are also sorted according to their owner.
Orange boxes were hers, while purple boxes were Gia’s.
Gisela Irene Almeda, or Gia, as Shane fondly used to call her, was standing by the kitchen, sorting out the mugs. She’s quiet. She was always the quiet type. The only difference now was that silence felt suffocating compared to the solace it once brought.
Gia was sorting out the last of their belongings. It’s the last day of moving out, and every single day that passed since they started packing felt heavier than the other.
Shane looked at her phone, focused on the message that the truck driver sent her. Even with the letters clearly arranged to make sense, it still didn’t. Shane felt like her body was floating, like her mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t really blame herself. What was she supposed to do if she’s so used to something and suddenly, it’s all gone?
The clenching in her heart returned, squeezing her chest in the most painful way possible. But strangely, it also felt light. Her shoulders felt like there was unwanted weight on them for the past months, and now that they’re on the last day of packing, they felt light.
Gia finished sorting out the last few items. She put the boxes down beside Shane and then turned to her.
“Okay na,” she said.
Shane blinked and looked up.
For a second she just stared, like she was trying to memorize Gia the same way she had memorized the apartment.
“Parating na si kuya lalamove,” Shane said, lifting her phone slightly.
Gia nodded. “Okay.”
Neither of them moved right away.
The apartment echoed in a strange way now that most of their things were gone. The walls looked bare, the shelves empty except for faint dust outlines where picture frames used to sit.
Shane glanced at the counter where one mug remained.
The chipped blue one.
“Yung favorite mug mo,” Shane muttered.
Gia followed her gaze and let out a small breath of a laugh. “Sayo yan eh.”
“Simula naman nung nagka-chip yan, ikaw na ang gumamit.”
“Yeah,” Gia said, walking over and picking it up. “Ayaw mo kasi ng may sira. Baka kasi malunok mo yung bubog.”
She placed it gently inside one of her boxes.
Shane watched her do it.
A simple action, but it carried the quiet familiarity of four years together, knowing small preferences without asking.
Gia wiped her hands on her jeans and leaned against the counter.
For a moment she just looked around the empty living room. “Akala ko dati ang laki neto,” she said.
Shane nodded. “Akala ko rin. Diba pinagawayan pa natin na di natin kailangan ng isa pang room?”
Gia smiled faintly. “Oo tapos from spare room, naging walk-in closet na.”
“Tapos lagayan ng gamit mo.”
“Tapos lagayan ng sinampay kapag di pwede sa balcony.”
They both laughed softly. The laugh faded, leaving something gentler in its place.
Gia crossed her arms loosely, staring at the floor for a moment before speaking. “Shane?”
Shane nodded. “Oh?”
Gia looked up. “Do you regret it?”
The question didn’t feel sharp or accusing.
Just honest.
Shane leaned back against the wall, thinking. “Us?” she asked.
Gia nodded.
Shane shook her head almost immediately. “Hindi.”
“Bakit?”
“Kasi mahal kita, Gia. Kasi alam kong kahit hindi na tayo parehas ng nakikitang future. Na magkaiba na ang gusto natin sa buhay, alam kong at some point in my life, it was you who I wanted to be with. Kasi pinili kita, Gia. Paulit-ulit kitang pinili kasi mahal kita. At kahit tapos na tayo ngayon, alam kong mahal pa rin kita.”
Gia studied her face carefully, like she was making sure she meant it.
“Mahal din kita,” Gia said quietly. She smiled, although it looked sad. “Akala ko isang malaking biro yung magigising ka nalang na iba na ang gusto mo, pero sa dami ng pinagdaanan natin, I realized na pwedeng gusto pa rin kita pero mas gusto ko lang din talaga na malaman kung ano pa ang meron sa mundo.”
Shane let out a small breath.
“It was the best four years of my life, so far.”
Gia smiled slightly. “Same naman.”
Shane gestured around the empty condo.
“Maayos din naman naging buhay natin dito.”
“Yeah.”
Gia looked toward the hallway that led to their old bedroom. “Do you remember when we first moved in?” she said. “Ni sofa wala tayo.”
“Sa sahig tayo nakaupo tapos may takeout ng kung ano mang fastfood na trip natin.”
“Sobrang adult.”
Shane huffed a laugh. “We were proud nung nakabili tayo ng lifetime table.”
“Ang panget non.”
“It was functional.”
Gia laughed again, shaking her head. Then her expression softened. “You know,” she said slowly, “I kept trying to figure out when things changed.”
Shane listened.
Gia continued, “Iniisip ko kung may moment ba na hindi ko nagawa ang kailangan ko as a partner to you. Or kung naramdaman ko ba na nagkulang ka rin.”
Shane thought about it.
The quiet dinners.
The distance in bed.
The way conversations slowly became shorter.
“Wala tayong ginawang mali,” Shane said.
Gia looked relieved and sad at the same time.
“I think we just… grew.”
“In different directions,” Shane finished gently.
Gia nodded.
“Kasi naramdaman ko na parang roommates na lang tayo, na nawala na yung in love feeling,” she admitted. “We were not really partners anymore.”
Shane gave a small smile. “Naisip ko rin yan.”
Gia let out a breath she’d probably been holding for weeks. “God, I’m glad you said that.”
“Why?”
“Kasi bine-blame ko na ang sarili ko, na kasalanan ko kung bakit tayo humantong dito.”
Shane shook her head, “It wasn’t entirely your fault.”
“Pero hindi mo rin kasalanan, Shane.”
They stood there quietly again. The thing about their breakup was that the love hadn’t turned into anger.
It had just… changed shape.
Gia rubbed the back of her neck.
“Can I be honest?”
“Ano?”
“Thank you kasi pinagusapan natin ng maayos. Alam kong hindi naman tayo pwede maging friends as of now pero at least hindi ka mawawala sakin as an enemy. Kasi ayokong magalit sayo, hindi ko kayang magalit sayo.”
Shane nodded. “Hindi ko rin naman kaya."
“Thankful din ako kasi instead of staying because it’s comfortable,” Gia said. “We talked about it and became brave.”
Shane looked around the empty apartment again. “Ayokong magising na may nararamdaman na lang akong resentment sayo.”
Gia agreed softly. “Yeah.”
Another small pause passed.
Then Gia looked at her.
“I’m really glad na ikaw pa rin, though.”
Shane blinked. “Ang alin?”
“My first real relationship,” Gia said. “Living together. Growing up with someone.”
Shane felt something warm tighten in her chest.
“Me too,” she said.
Outside, a truck engine rumbled faintly.
Shane checked her phone. “They’re here.” She turned to the door and started walking.
“Shane,” Gia held her arm, “Wait.”
“Bakit?”
“Sana wag mo isiping di natin sinubukan, kasi sinubukan natin. Ginawa natin lahat,” Gia said as she let go of Shane’s arm.
Shane nodded, “Alam ko.”
Gia nodded slowly.
For a moment neither of them moved.
Then Gia stepped forward and pulled Shane into a hug.
Not desperate.
Not clinging.
Just familiar.
Four years of memories wrapped into a single moment.
Shane hugged her back just as tightly.
“Gumuho man ang mundo, ikaw pa rin naman ang soulmate ko,” Gia murmured.
Shane smiled into her shoulder.
“Ikaw rin akin.”
And for the first time since the packing started, the goodbye didn’t feel like something breaking.