Miss Historian and Her Lady Guide (The Love We Found)

Something New

The days passed quickly on their island escape, each one blending into the next like a beautiful, sun-soaked dream. Roxan and Dana reveled in the freedom of their time together, unburdened by deadlines or expectations. They spent long hours discussing their new plans, their conversations flowing seamlessly between practical logistics and passionate dreams.

Back in Manila, life resumed its normal pace, but with a new sense of purpose. The exhibition was still drawing crowds, and the media attention had sparked a broader discussion about hidden histories and forgotten love stories. Inspired by the overwhelming response, Roxan and Dana decided it was time to begin their next project—a book that would bring these stories to light.

One morning, as they sat in their favorite café, surrounded by notebooks, laptops, and stacks of research material, Dana looked up at Roxan with a thoughtful expression. "We should start by talking to people," she said. "People in the community, historians, families who might have their own stories to share."

Roxan nodded, her eyes bright with excitement. "I've already made a list of names," she replied, holding up a small notebook filled with scribbles. "There are so many people who could help us. And I was thinking... we could also do a series of interviews, maybe even a podcast. It would be a great way to reach more people, to tell these stories in their own words."

Dana grinned, leaning forward with enthusiasm. "I love that idea," she said. "It makes it more personal, more immediate. We could even record them in different locations, bring in the atmosphere of where these stories happened."

They spent the next few hours planning their approach, their ideas flowing easily. By the time they left the café, they had a solid outline for their book and a list of potential interviewees. The energy between them was electric, fueled by their shared passion and the knowledge that they were embarking on something truly meaningful.

---

A few weeks later, they found themselves in an old house in Vigan, sitting across from an elderly woman named Señora Carmen. The house was filled with antique furniture, its walls lined with sepia-toned photographs of a bygone era. Señora Carmen's wrinkled hands trembled slightly as she held a yellowed photograph of two women in traditional baro't saya, their expressions both serene and filled with a quiet intensity.

"This is my great-grandmother, Rosa," she explained, her voice wavering with age. "And the woman beside her... was her best friend, Maria. At least, that's what the family always called her. But there were always whispers... that they were more than friends."

Roxan and Dana exchanged a glance, feeling the familiar thrill of discovery. "What kind of whispers?" Dana asked gently, her voice encouraging but respectful.

Señora Carmen hesitated, as if weighing whether to share something precious and delicate. "They said Rosa never married," she continued slowly. "That she always kept a picture of Maria by her bedside, even after Maria died. And when Rosa passed away, they found letters... letters that spoke of a love that was not meant to be spoken of in those days."

Roxan leaned forward, her heart racing. "Do you still have the letters?" she asked softly.

Señora Carmen nodded. "I do," she replied. "I kept them hidden for so long... afraid of what people might think. But now, seeing what you did with María and Isabel's story... I think it's time to let them be heard."

She rose slowly and shuffled to an old chest, opening it with a key she wore around her neck. She retrieved a small, fabric-wrapped bundle and placed it carefully in Roxan's hands. "Take them," she said, her voice firm. "Tell their story. Let people know that love has always existed, in all its forms."

Roxan felt a lump in her throat as she unwrapped the bundle, revealing a stack of fragile, hand-written letters tied with a faded ribbon. She glanced at Dana, who was watching with wide, glistening eyes.

"We will," Roxan promised, her voice thick with emotion. "We'll make sure they're never forgotten."

---

As they left the old house, Dana turned to Roxan, her face filled with wonder. "Can you believe this?" she asked. "We're uncovering another story, another piece of history... it feels like we're being guided somehow, like this is exactly where we're meant to be."

Roxan nodded, her heart full. "It does," she agreed. "It feels like every step we take, we're connecting the past with the present, honoring the love that came before us."

They walked in silence for a while, their hands intertwined. The sun was setting over the cobblestone streets, casting long shadows that seemed to dance around them. Roxan felt a deep sense of gratitude, not just for the stories they were uncovering, but for the love that had brought them to this point.

"Dana," she said softly, breaking the quiet. "I've been thinking... about what you said back on the island. About building a life together."

Dana smiled, squeezing Roxan's hand. "I remember," she replied. "I meant every word."

Roxan's heart swelled with affection. "So did I," she said. "And I think... I think I'm ready for the next step. Whatever that looks like, wherever it takes us."

Dana's eyes sparkled with a mixture of excitement and love. "You mean it?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Roxan nodded, her smile widening. "I do," she said. "I want to keep exploring, keep uncovering these stories... and I want to do it with you, for the rest of my life."

Dana pulled Roxan into a tight embrace, her heart racing with joy. "I want that too," she whispered. "More than anything."

They stood there for a long time, holding each other in the fading light, knowing that they had found something rare and beautiful—a love that transcended time, just like the stories they were uncovering.

---

The next few months flew by in a whirlwind of interviews, research trips, and late-night writing sessions. Their apartment became a hub of activity, filled with stacks of paper, books, and recording equipment. Roxan and Dana worked tirelessly, driven by a sense of purpose that was both exhilarating and exhausting.

One night, as they sat at their cluttered dining table, Roxan looked up from her laptop, her face serious. "Dana," she began, "I've been thinking... about our foundation. I think we should name it after María and Isabel. To honor them, and to honor all the hidden stories we're bringing to light."

Dana smiled, her eyes soft. "That's perfect," she agreed. "The María and Isabel Foundation... it has a beautiful ring to it."

Roxan nodded, feeling a sense of completion. "We're doing something important," she said. "And it feels like we're exactly where we're supposed to be."

Dana reached across the table, taking Roxan's hand. "We are," she said softly. "And wherever this journey takes us, we'll be together."

Roxan squeezed Dana's hand, her heart full of love and hope. "Together," she echoed, knowing that their story was just beginning.

And as they sat there, dreaming of the future, they knew they were ready for whatever lay ahead—a new chapter, a new adventure, and a love that would continue to grow, just like the stories they were uncovering, one letter at a time.