Just a week after Yoko's arrival in Thailand, a message from Nana appeared on her phoneâa link to a recent interview with Film. Curiosity tinged with apprehension welled up within Yoko as she clicked the link, her heart pounding softly in her chest.
In the interview, Film sat composed but visibly introspective, her demeanor a stark contrast to her usual vibrant public persona. She began by addressing the swirling rumors and statements she had made during the Oscars, her tone steady yet filled with a noticeable undercurrent of remorse.
"I want to start by clearing the air," Film began, her voice steady but laden with sincerity. "Yes, Faye and I shared a pastâa beautiful one, at least in the beginning. But as my career began to take off, things started to unravel. I was selfish, completely consumed by my ambitions, and in the process, I hurt Faye in ways I will always regret.
"Our relationship ended because of my mistakes," she admitted, her gaze softening with vulnerability. "And while we never explicitly said the words, my actions made it clear to Faye that it was over. I abandoned her. I stopped answering her calls, I distanced myself, and I ghosted her. Looking back, I know that was worseâso much worseâthan sitting down and telling her, like a decent person, that it was time to end things."
Her voice wavered slightly, but she pressed on. "I owe herâand anyone who's been affected by thisâan apology. Faye didn't deserve that kind of treatment, and I take full responsibility for the pain I caused."
She paused, as if to gather her thoughts, before continuing, her gaze steady but her voice softer now. "The comments I made during the Oscars were misleading and unfairânot just to Faye but to everyone involved. The truth is, Faye and I are not together and haven't been for a long time. She's moved on, and she deserves happiness without the shadow of our past looming over her."
Film's words carried a weight of regret, her vulnerability palpable. "I hope this sets the record straight, and I hope Faye knows that I only wish the best for her. To anyone hurt by my actions or my words, I am deeply sorry."
As the interview ended, Yoko leaned back, her emotions swirling. Film's honesty was unexpected, but it brought a sense of clarity. While the past couldn't be erased, it felt as though a door had been firmly closed.
While Yoko felt a small sense of relief hearing Film's words, the ache in her chest remained, unyielding and heavy. It wasn't enough to nudge her into reaching out to Faye. She was consumed with shame, embarrassed by her own actions, and overwhelmed by the desire to punish herself for causing Faye so much pain. Yoko wanted to feel the full weight of the consequences, as though by enduring the pain herself, she would finally understand the magnitude of how foolish and selfish she had beenâto hurt the one person who had loved and cared for her the most.
Three months - three months had passed since Yoko asked for space. The time stretched endlessly, each day weighing heavily on her. Every sunrise felt like a reminder of what she had left behind, and every sunset brought a quiet ache that refused to fade.
To keep the emptiness at bay, Yoko threw herself into work, burying herself in projects that demanded her full attention. She welcomed the deadlines and the late nights, anything to occupy her mind. Yet, even the most rigorous tasks couldn't fully dull the ache in her heart.
Her occasional TikTok lives, once vibrant and filled with joy, had become brief and somber affairs. What used to be a source of connection now felt like a constant reminder of her loneliness. She couldn't even last an hour online before logging off abruptly, leaving her fans bewildered.
The comment sections were the hardest. Every kind word, every gift sent her way, only deepened her longing for Faye. Yoko found herself scanning the messages, her eyes searching for a username she couldn't bring herself to admit she missed. Faye's absence was palpable, even in the digital space. Not even Sofia's playful antics made an appearance, and that silence gnawed at her, amplifying the void in her chest.
Yoko tried to convince herself that she needed this separation, but the longing was relentless, rude evenâan uninvited guest that refused to leave. It lingered in the quiet moments, in the spaces between her breaths, in the dreams that blurred the lines between reality and memory.
As the days blurred together, the distraction of work began to wane. The weight of her unresolved feelings grew heavier, and she felt the undeniable need to pause and reassess her life. Something had to give, and Yoko realized that perhaps it was time to stop running from what her heart truly wanted.
After another grueling day, Yoko approached P'Lookmhee, her heart heavy with indecision. She stood at the edge of her desk, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "P'Lookmhee," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "Can I take a month off?"
Lookmhee glanced up from her laptop, concern softening her features. "A month?" she repeated, studying Yoko closely. "You've never asked for such a long break before. Is everything okay?"
Yoko hesitated, then nodded, though the tightness in her chest betrayed her. "I just... need time to clear my head. To breathe."
Lookmhee's expression softened further, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Of course, Yoko. You've been working so hard, and you deserve this. Just promise me you'll come back refreshed and ready to take on the world."
Relief flooded through Yoko, and she managed a faint smile. "I promise."
Later that day, P'Freen, catching wind of Yoko's plans, approached her with a playful grin. "Hey, if you're taking time off, maybe I'll tag along. I could use a break too. Imagine us, sunbathing and sipping cocktails!"
Yoko chuckled despite herself. "Thanks, P'Freen, but I think you'd just turn it into a work trip anyway," she teased lightly, earning an exaggerated groan from Freen.
That evening when she couldn't decide yet what to do with her time off, Yoko ventured out in search of coffee. Wandering aimlessly, she stumbled upon a quaint, dimly lit café she'd never noticed before. The cozy ambiance drew her in, and as the bell above the door jingled, her eyes landed on two familiar faces seated by the window.
Dr. Lingling and Professor Engfa beamed at her from across the room, their smiles warm and inviting.
"Yoko!" Lingling called out, waving her over. "Come join us."
For a moment, Yoko froze, unsure whether to accept. But the loneliness gnawing at her finally won. With a hesitant smile, she approached their table and slid into the seat they offered.
The conversation began light, punctuated with laughter and shared memories, but it didn't take long for it to shift to matters of the heart. Both women spoke in veiled tones about their own heartbreaks. While no names were mentioned, Yoko didn't need to guessâthey were clearly talking about Orm and Charlotte.
Lingling sighed, swirling her tea. "It's funny, isn't it? How the people who mean the most can also hurt us the deepest."
Engfa nodded, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "That's why we've decided to travel for a while. Change of scenery, new experiences. We're heading to the Philippines next week."
At the mention of Faye's homeland, Yoko's chest tightened. The memories she'd tried so hard to suppress surged forward with relentless force.
Lingling, ever intuitive, leaned forward, her gaze probing. "Why don't you come with us, Yoko? You could use a break too."
Yoko hesitated, torn between the fear of opening old wounds and the yearning to reconnect with Faye. The thought of being so close to her again was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. After what felt like an eternity, she nodded slowly. "Okay," she said softly. "I'll go."
The days leading up to their trip were a whirlwind of activity. When Yoko told her parents, Nana's eyes lit up with mischievous glee.
"Oh, so you've finally come to your senses and realized you miss Faye, huh?" Nana teased, her voice dripping with mock innocence.
Yoko rolled her eyes, a faint blush creeping up her neck. "It's not about that," she muttered, though the tremor in her voice gave her away.
---
When the departure day arrived, Yoko felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. As the plane descended over the lush landscapes of the Philippines, her heart swelled with a strange mix of nostalgia and trepidation.
Their first destination was a stunning island, its golden sands and turquoise waters stretching endlessly under the sun. For the first week, Yoko let herself be swept up in the natural beauty, her worries momentarily dulled by the serenity around her.
But as the days passed, thoughts of Faye crept in like an insistent tide. Every sunset, every quiet moment reminded her of what she'd left unresolved. She'd pick up her phone, start typing a message or dialing her number, only to stop, paralyzed by doubt.
Lingling and Engfa noticed her internal struggle but refrained from pushing. Still, their exasperation was evident.
"Just call her already," Engfa said one evening, her tone a mix of annoyance and encouragement.
Lingling nodded in agreement. "What's the worst that could happen, Yoko? She hangs up? At least you'd know where you stand."
Yoko sighed, staring at her phone. She knew they were right. But knowing it didn't make the fear any less real.
The truth was, Yoko was terrified. Every time she tried to reach out to Faye, fear gripped her, and she couldn't bring herself to do it. Days turned into weeks, and now three months had passed without a word. She was haunted by the thought that three months had been far too long for Faye to wait. During that time, Faye might have moved onâfound someone who didn't hesitate, someone who could offer her the certainty Yoko had failed to provide. The thought twisted something deep inside her, a mix of regret and fear she couldn't shake.
What if Faye had already let go of their love? What if, in the silence that had stretched between them, she had found peace in the idea that it was over? Yoko couldn't bear the possibility that Faye had already turned the page, leaving her behind. The longer she waited, the more she was consumed by the fear that it might be too late to fix anything, too late to salvage what they had.
The fear consumed her, gnawing at her every thought. How could she possibly expect Faye to still be waiting, still holding onto the hope of a future with her, after everything that had happened? Three months without a word, without resolutionâit felt like a lifetime. And in that time, everything could have changed. Yoko couldn't help but wonder if Faye had already made peace with the idea that it was over, that maybe she had finally accepted that there was no future for them.
The uncertainty was unbearable, and it made Yoko hesitate, too paralyzed by fear to act.
---
After three weeks of exploring, the group returned to a bustling city near the airport, its streets alive with music, laughter, and the hum of nightlife. Despite the lively atmosphere, Yoko felt a persistent weight in her chest, an unresolved ache she couldn't shake.
That evening, the trio dined at a charming restaurant nestled along a cobblestone street. The warm glow of hanging lights bathed the space in a cozy ambiance, and the chatter of nearby patrons blended with soft background music.
Lingling leaned back in her chair, sipping her wine, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "You know, I've been thinking," she began, fixing her gaze on Yoko.
Yoko arched an eyebrow. "Uh-oh. Should I be worried?"
Engfa jumped in, her grin mischievous. "We've decided that you're officially the baby of this group."
Yoko burst out laughing, nearly choking on her drink. "What? Why?"
Lingling shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Well, you're the youngest. And let's face it, your hesitations, your constant overthinkingâit's very baby behavior."
Engfa nodded sagely, playing along. "It's true. Plus, we've practically been babysitting you this whole trip. Don't worry, Baby Yoko, we've got you."
Yoko doubled over with laughter, tears forming in her eyes. "You two are impossible!" she managed to say between fits of giggles.
Lingling leaned closer, her voice mock-serious. "Embrace it, Yoko. You're our Baby Yoko now. We'll even get you a bib if you want."
Yoko shook her head, still laughing as she pushed back her chair. "I can't with you two. I'm going to the restroom before I die of secondhand embarrassment."
Engfa stood as well, an exaggerated look of concern on her face. "Baby Yoko shouldn't wander alone. I'll escort you. Come on."
Yoko rolled her eyes but smiled, allowing Engfa to follow her as they walked toward the restroom.
As Yoko stepped out of the restroom, her thoughts still swirling with amusement from the brief respite, she was jolted forward as she collided with someone heading in. The impact wasn't hard, but it was enough to make her pause. The familiar unique scent hit her first, sending her heart racing before her eyes confirmed what she already knew. It sent a shockwave through Yoko's chest, and her heart raced, suddenly pounding in her ears.
Before she could process it fully, her eyes met the person in front of her, and everything around her seemed to fade into the background. There, standing just inches away, was Faye. The moment their gazes locked, Yoko's breath caught in her throat, her mind spinning, trying to reconcile the mix of emotions rushing through her. She had been expecting this moment, even dreading it, but now that it was here, she couldn't stop the overwhelming wave of feelings that crashed over her.
"Faye," she whispered, her voice trembling as her gaze locked onto the woman before her.
Faye froze, her eyes widening in shock. "Yoko?"
Time seemed to grind to a halt as the two stared at each other, the air between them heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Faye managed to find her voice, though it was shaky. "Hey. You're here? How?"
Yoko opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.
The moment was interrupted by Engfa, who emerged from the restroom, still chatting animatedly. "Yoko, I was sayingâ" She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes flickering between Yoko and Faye. "Whoa! What a coincidence! How are you, bro?"
Faye's gaze dropped to Engfa's hand resting casually on Yoko's waist. Her expression darkened, her jaw tightening. "I'm fine," she said tersely. "You're here too?"
Engfa, oblivious to the shift in the atmosphere, grinned. "Yeah! We've been here since last month. I kept telling Yoko to call you so you could show us around."
Faye's focus sharpened at the last word. "One month?" she repeated, her tone soft but cutting, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Yoko.
Before Engfa could dig the hole any deeper, Yoko stepped forward, her voice firm but strained. "Can I have your phone?"
Faye blinked, caught off guard. Hesitantly, she handed it over.
Yoko quickly typed an address into the contacts and returned the phone. "This is where we're staying. Please come. I need to talk to you."
Before Faye could react, Yoko grabbed Engfa's hand and pulled her away, her heart pounding as she walked swiftly back to their table. She didn't dare look back, afraid of what she might seeâor feelâif she met Faye's eyes again.
---
Later that night, Yoko paced the length of her hotel room, her anxiety mounting with every passing second. The weight of the earlier encounter with Faye bore down on her chest, making it hard to breathe. She replayed the moment over and over in her mind, searching for words she could have said, actions she could have taken to make it right. The knock at the door startled her out of her spiraling thoughts.
She froze, her hand hovering over the doorknob. Finally, with a deep breath, she opened it.
Faye stood there, illuminated by the dim hallway light. Her face was a raw mix of pain, anger, and the faintest flicker of hope she seemed desperate to suppress.
"Hey, come in," Yoko said softly, stepping aside.
Faye entered without a word, her arms tightly crossed over her chest. She didn't sit, choosing instead to stand near the window, her posture tense and defensive. She glanced back at Yoko, her voice low but sharp. "You've been here for a month and didn't tell me?"
The crack in her voice sent a pang of guilt through Yoko. "I... I was scared," Yoko admitted, barely able to meet her eyes. Her voice trembled, carrying the weight of her regret. "I didn't know how to face you. I didn't know if you'd even want to see me."
Faye's jaw clenched, her brows furrowing in disbelief. "Scared? Yoko, I waited for you. Every single day, I held onto the hope that you'd call or text, anything to let me know you were okay. Do you know how many times I stared at my phone, wondering if I should reach out instead? And all this time, you were here, so close?"
"I didn't know what to say," Yoko whispered, her voice barely audible. "I thought maybe... maybe you'd moved on."
"Moved on?" Faye's voice rose, laced with frustration and sorrow. "Why would I move on? How could I move on when I've been stuck in the same moment, replaying everything we went through? Trying to understand where I went wrong?" Her voice broke, and she turned away, blinking back tears. "I thought you were coming back to me, Yoko. I never stopped believing that."
Yoko stepped closer, her heart aching at the sight of Faye's tears. "I was! I am, I'm so sorry," she said, her voice trembling.
"You told me to talk to Film, and I did," Faye said, her voice low and heavy with emotion. "I asked her for the closure you so wanted me to have, so we could be together without any shadows between us. After her interview, I waited for you to reach out, but you didn't. I kept asking myself whyâwhy haven't you reached out yet? Should I be the one to reach out? But then I remembered how desperately you asked me for space, so I held back. I didn't want to disrespect your wishes. I wanted to give you the time you needed. But every single day, I've been hoping, praying, that you'd find your way back to me."
Yoko looked at Faye, her heart aching with every word. Her voice was soft yet steady as she replied, "Faye, I didn't reach out because I was ashamed. I've been waiting too, wondering if you'd still want me after everything, questioning if I even deserved you anymore."
She took a step closer, her voice trembling as she continued, "I never meant to hurt you. I've been lostâtrying to figure out everything, trying to make sense of us. But I'm here now. I want to fix this. Please, let me fix us."
Before Faye could respond, the door burst open. Engfa walked in, a tub of ice cream in hand, her tone cheerful and oblivious. "Baby Yo, the ice cream you wanted isn't available, so we got..." Her voice trailed off as she took in the scene before her. Her eyes darted between Yoko and Faye, her brows furrowing in confusion. "Oh. Uh..."
The room fell deathly silent, the tension thick and suffocating. Faye's gaze flickered to Engfa, her eyes locking on the tub of ice cream and the unintentional weight of the word "baby." Her shoulders stiffened, and then, as if the realization pierced her heart all at once, her expression crumpled.
A bitter laugh escaped Faye's lips, trembling and broken. "Oh, I see now," she said, her voice heavy with heartbreak. Her eyes met Yoko's, her stare a mixture of betrayal and disbelief. "Fix us, huh? Is that what you meant? Or did you mean giving me the proper closure you thought I didn't have with Film? Because this," she gestured to Engfa and the room, "this feels like closure to me."
Faye's lips twisted into a sad, hollow smile. "Don't worry, you didn't need to close something you never even tried to open." she said softly, her voice trembling but gaining an edge.
Yoko was surprised when she realized what Faye was talking about. She stepped forward, desperation clawing at her. "No, Faye, it's not like that. Please, listen to meâ"
Faye held up a hand, cutting her off. Her composure was unraveling, her pain raw and exposed. "I listened to you, Yoko. I gave you everything you asked for. Space. Time. I stayed here, waiting, hoping, believing in us. And you... you didn't even give me the courtesy of honesty." She exhaled shakily, her voice lowering to a whisper. "You should have just told me you didn't want me anymore."
"That's not true," Yoko said, her voice trembling, desperation etched into every word. "I love you!"
"Don't!" Faye's voice cut through the air, sharp and anguished, her pain now brimming with anger. "Don't say that. Not when thisâ" she gestured toward Engfa, her hand trembling as she pointed, "âis what love looks like to you now. Don't you dare insult me like that!"
Engfa, who had been standing awkwardly at the periphery, shifted uneasily. "Faye, it's not what you thinkâ" she began, her voice cautious.
Faye didn't even glance her way. Her eyes stayed locked on Yoko, the weight of betrayal drowning out everything else. "No, Engfa. It's exactly what I think," she said bitterly, her tone hollow.
Turning back to Yoko, Faye's voice softened, but the edge of her pain was unmistakable, each word cutting deeper than the last. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, a storm of emotions barely held in check.
"You were overwhelmed, right?" Faye began, her tone calm, almost too calm, though the sharp edge of bitterness sliced through each word. "Isn't that what you told me? That you needed space? That we were moving too fast?" She let out a shaky breath, a bitter laugh slipping past her lips. "So I did it. I gave you space. I gave you time. And look where it's led us."
Her voice wavered, but she pressed on, her emotions spilling over. "I stayed, Yoko. I waited. I kept telling myself you just needed time, that you'd come back when you were ready. I held onto the hope that you'd choose me, that you'd stop running. I believed in us, even when it hurt. I believed we'd find our way back. But now... I don't know if I can keep doing this to myself. I can't keep hoping for something when you... you won't even meet me halfway."
Faye's voice cracked, her vulnerability laid bare as tears shimmered in her eyes. "You've been hereâright hereâall this time. But you didn't tell me. You didn't reach out." Her tone wavered, raw with anguish. "Do you know what that feels like? To realize you didn't tell me because you didn't need me anymore? Because you didn't want me?" Her voice shattered completely, trembling under the weight of her pain. "That hurts more than anything, Yoko. More than I ever thought it could."
Faye's tears finally broke free, tracing silent paths down her cheeks. She didn't wipe them away, didn't flinch, her pain exposed in a way that was both devastating and resolute. The raw vulnerability in her expression was heart-wrenching, but there was something elseâa finality in her words that struck Yoko like a blow to the chest.
Yoko stood frozen, her own tears spilling over as she shook her head desperately, trying to convey without words what her voice couldn't manage. You're wrong, she wanted to scream. I need you. I've always needed you. I never wanted to be without you. But her throat tightened, her voice stolen by the weight of the moment.
She could only watch, paralyzed, as Faye turned toward the door. Her hand hovered over the handle, trembling, as though she were giving herself one last chance to turn back. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, Yoko thought she might reconsider. But then Faye steadied herself, exhaling a shaky breath, and turned the knob with quiet determination.
But before she could open it, Yoko lunged forward, her hand reaching out to grasp Faye's arm, trying to stop her from walking away., her breath catching in her throat. Desperation surged through her. "Faye, wait! Please, listen to meâEngfa and I are just friends!" she cried.
Faye froze, her back still to Yoko, her shoulders sagging under the weight of unspoken sorrow. The silence that followed was deafening, and Yoko's heart pounded in her chest, pleading for a response.
When Faye finally spoke, her voice was barely more than a whisper, fragile and aching. "Take care of yourself, Yoko."
Without another word, she gently pulled her arm free and stepped out, the door clicking softly behind her, leaving Yoko alone in the crushing quiet of the room.
Yoko stood there, her hand still outstretched, as if she could reach beyond the closed door and pull Faye back into the room, back into her life. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the sound of her ragged breathing.
Engfa shifted again, the tub of ice cream forgotten in her hand. "What... what just happened?" she asked hesitantly.
Yoko didn't answer. Slowly, she sank onto the edge of the bed, her body trembling as she buried her face in her hands. "I messed up," she whispered, her voice cracking with despair. "I messed up so badly."
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Happy Monday, everyone! Thank you so much for your patience and continuous support. This chapter is dedicated to @kedycheeks25, @Jazz040, and @PujiRahayu712795.
A huge thank you as well to our new readers who voted on every chapter throughout the weekend. Your support means the world to me, and I'm so grateful that you're enjoying and rooting for the story.
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