Wind (a novel)

Whispers of the Past

5:45 pm.

A piercing screech startled me awake. I jolted upright, heart pounding in my chest. Disoriented, I took a moment to scan my surroundings. The storm had passed, leaving behind a sky washed clean and painted in hues of purple and orange by the setting sun. The cottage seemed intact, the waves subsided to gentle ripples lapping against the stilts. The source of the noise became apparent - a lone seagull perched on the roof, its mournful cry echoing in the sudden stillness.

Relief washed over me, chasing away the remnants of the nightmare that had haunted my sleep. It was a recurring dream, a collage of fragmented memories from my childhood with Paulo, interspersed with flashes of our last encounter in Cebu. The dream always ended with the same desolate feeling, a hollowness that mirrored where we were now with each other.

I stretched, the stiffness of sleep slowly leaving my body. The delicious aroma of sizzling meat filled my nostrils, momentarily distracting me. A quick glance at the stove revealed the remaining piece of spiced ham frying in its own fat. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, reminding me of the meagerness of my remaining supplies. Three bottles of water traded, and I suddenly realized one dozen eggs and half a pack of ham wouldn't last me for three days. I cursed my impulsiveness, a trait I'd always struggled with.

Pushing the worry aside for now, I focused on finishing my meager supper. As I ate, the events of the previous week replayed in my mind. The warmth of Paulo's kiss still lingered on my cheek, a stark contrast to the chilling winds that had swept through the cottage. His words echoed in my ears: "Do you want to have coffee? Together?"

Together. The very word always sent a shiver down my spine. Together meant different things at different stages of our lives. As children, together meant endless hours spent exploring the woods behind our houses, or building sandcastles on the beach, or dreaming of futures intertwined. But time, as Paulo had so eloquently preached in his speech, had a way of changing things.

What did "together" mean to Paulo now? Was it a rekindled love, a desire to recapture the innocence of our youth? Or was it something else entirely, fueled by his newfound faith and desire to share it with me? I had desperately hoped for the former, clung to the possibility of a second chance. But the more I thought about it, the more doubts surfaced.

The Paulo I remembered was a free spirit, a dreamer who yearned for adventure. The man who was on stage, though his eyes still held a familiar warmth, was a different person. He carried an aura of certainty, a conviction that bordered on righteousness. Was this the transformation he'd alluded to in his emails? Was this the path he'd chosen, the reason for the dead-end of our relationship?

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. The setting sun cast an orange glow on the water, creating a mesmerizing play of light and shadow. The beauty of the scene did little to alleviate the turmoil within me. I needed answers, not just from Paulo, but from myself. Why did I run away? Why did I let fear dictate my actions?

A sudden gust of wind rustled the leaves of the palm trees lining the sandbar. It seemed to carry with them whispers of the past, fragments of conversations long forgotten. A memory surfaced, vivid and clear...

θ θ θ

Annie giggled as she chased Paulo across the grassy hill, the breeze whipping at their hair. Fourteen years old, carefree and innocent, their laughter mingled with the sound of chirping birds. They reached the large, old mango tree, a familiar landmark that marked the boundary between their houses. Paulo skidded to a halt, leaning against the rough bark, chest heaving.

"You win," he conceded, a grin spreading across his face.

Annie mirrored his smile, her eyes sparkling with playful mischief. "Admit it, Paulo, you can't outrun me anymore."

He chuckled, pulling a small, folded piece of paper from his pocket. "Maybe not, but I have something for you."

Unfolding the paper carefully, Annie's breath hitched. It was a crudely drawn picture of a house, nestled amongst lush green trees with a heart drawn in the center. Scrawled beneath it were the words "Better together. A. & P." There are those words again.

A warmth bloomed in her chest. "It's beautiful, Paulo. Thank you."

He shrugged, a hint of shyness in his eyes. "We'll build it someday, Annie. Just you and me."

θ θ θ

The memory faded as quickly as it came, leaving behind a bittersweet ache. The promise of "better together" seemed like a cruel joke now. We were supposed to build a life together, but life, it had a way of scattering dreams like grains of sand in the wind.