CHAPTER 25

I returned home, drenched and famished, my mind in a constant haze. The people in the elevator cast curious glances, but I was too depleted to care. I'm teetering on the edge, desperately trying to hold myself together, but the strain is becoming unbearable. My emotional turmoil was palpable, a heavy cloud that enveloped me.

I retrieved my phone from the white tote when I reached my unit. Missed calls and text messages filled it, mainly from Ma'am Yolly. I chose not to respond, so I placed the phone on the low table in the living room.

I went to the bathroom, showered, and changed into dry clothes. I lay down on the bed, trying to get comfortable. I sulked all day until I fell asleep.

A fever gripped me that night, causing my body to alternate between chills and heat. I slept fitfully, my face wet with tears. In my dream, he was there—the person I longed for. I craved his comforting touch on my forehead and warm kisses on my cheeks. I yearned for this to be true, for him to be here with me, providing the solace I desperately needed.

I awoke at dawn, my body aching and weak. I wrapped myself in a bathrobe, but the shivers persisted. I turned off the AC, hoping to find some relief. My head throbbed, and my eyes stung from exhaustion. My physical weakness was a constant reminder of my struggles, a heavy burden that I carried.

I decided not to go to work today. I tried to cook breakfast because I forgot to eat last night. I couldn't finish the sunny-side-up eggs, bacon, and fried rice because I suddenly lost my appetite.

I took paracetamol and lay down on the sofa. I fell asleep again for a while. I woke up sweating, and finally, the heat in my body subsided for a moment.

I picked up the Android phone, only to find it was already low on battery. I was too overwhelmed to charge it. The landline kept ringing, but I couldn't answer. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I craved solitude, a space where I could confront my emotions. I spent the whole day in this self-imposed isolation, my emotions fluctuating between sadness and anger. I would cry occasionally; the tears relieved my pent-up emotions. It was exhausting, but I couldn't avoid it. Whenever I remembered his face from yesterday, I felt a sharp pang in my heart.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, the intercom rang, but I still couldn't answer. It kept ringing repeatedly, but I remained stubborn until I heard someone knocking on the door, giving me no choice but to open it. The female security guard and Tita Cecile stood in front of me.

"I knew it! You're here. The guard has been calling you downstairs, but you're not answering," Tita Cecile said, her voice filled with concern. She thanked the lady guard, who left immediately. She stepped inside. "Is there a problem, Ara? You look pale, but what happened to your eyes? Why are they swollen?"

I answered, but my tone was hesitant. I couldn't pretend to be enthusiastic about talking. "I'm okay, Tita. Why did you visit here?"

"Yolly came to my unit this morning," she replied. I closed the door. "She said you suddenly left yesterday. Then she called and texted you, but you didn't answer. We were worried about you. What happened?"

She held my arm, concern evident in her eyes. "Oh my, Ara, you're burning. Did you have a fever?"

I forced a smile, trying to reassure her. "I've already taken medicine, so don't worry. I left yesterday because I felt unwell." I lied to her, not wanting to burden her with the truth of my emotional turmoil.

Tita Cecile didn't speak. Instead, she just stared at me intently. I could tell from her expression that she doubted what I said. Seriously? Is it that obvious something terrible happened yesterday? She took a deep breath. "I can't leave you alone here. You need me now. Look at you! You're so pale! Promise," she said.

"You're something, Tita. But thank you for coming today. I need someone with me." My thoughts changed because her sincerity towards me was like my mom's.

Tita Cecile called her two sons and gave them instructions. She cooked arrozcaldo, and luckily, I had some chicken stock stored in the fridge. That became our dinner, and I liked it. My condition improved a bit.

I finally charged my phone. When it reached full battery, I was surprised upon opening it. There were a hundred missed calls and thirty text messages, most of them from Eric. I closed my eyes and worried about him.

"Eric will contact you again later. He's sick of worrying about you," Tita Cecile said. She was holding her smartphone. We were sitting side by side on the sofa, watching TV. "He keeps calling you, but your phone is off. I've already told him."

"Tita, please don't tell him I have a fever today. I don't want him to stress out about me, too."

She nodded and let out a sigh. "They were surprised by what you did yesterday. Why did you walk out like that?"

"I wasn't feeling well," I lied again.

I quickly diverted our conversation. "May I ask, Tita? Who is your neighbor, a skin-headed guy with a big build and a tattoo?"

"Oh! Wait, that was Pastor Red." She grabbed the remote and turned down the television's volume. "Why did you ask?"

Pastor Red, he's a pastor... If only I could slap my face. I judged someone based on his appearance.

"I thought he was Marco," I answered. Tita Cecile laughed at me, but I couldn't look at her directly. "They gave us a different person."

"Does he look like a thug? Even I thought he was a criminal when I first met him. Sorry for my words, but he's kind and accommodating. When it was time to arrest Marco, he was one of the people who talked to the police about stopping the arrest."

I shook my head because I'd learned something else.

"Maybe I'll just reschedule the appointment. I'll still talk to Marco,"

"How can you talk to Marco? His wife had already bailed him out of jail. He's free." I was surprised by Tita Cecile's words. "You know, Maya seems to have a mental issue going on. She's confusing to talk to, and they're not in their unit anymore."

"They moved? But it was only temporary. We have already talked to the chief, and he will undergo treatment. He can still be charged."

"According to Don Brando, they left immediately following his release last night. Oh well! Let's not mind them anymore. If that's what they want, they're on their own," Tita Cecile said.

I regret it even more now, but my situation will only worsen if I suddenly give in to everyone who was there yesterday.

I talked to Eric once again. He said he would stay longer in the U.S., which made me even more worried for him. The stress and mixed emotions piled up. Maybe I overreacted yesterday or felt hysterical. That's why I mistook Marco for Hector. I thought I had completely forgotten about his past. However, the feeling of longing was still there whenever I remembered him.

I am constantly battling when I say I need to forget him completely. My feelings keep repeating. Luckily, I met Tita Cecile. She is like a mother figure to me now. She assists me in every way she can. And when she's by my side, I focus more on my relationship with Eric.

Slowly, I know I can completely forget about Hector, even if he looks like Marco. Forcing myself to live with these memories is pointless. I have already come to terms with his departure.

I returned to work the next day and continued my radio station duties. After Tita Cecile's visit, I meditated and reprogrammed my thoughts. I told myself that I was the center of my Universe and the master of my happiness. I kept repeating those thoughts to my subconscious.

They said, "What the mind can conceive, the heart will follow," and I believe in this. I no longer thought about looking for Maya's family. Even though I wanted to help them from the bottom of my heart, I was not in a position to interfere with their decision. I quickly forgot about them, and in the end, I woke up again as if pulled out of a nightmare.