When Love Break Ties

Chapter 30: Contemplating a Return

Nathan sat on the edge of his bed, the dim light of the Tokyo evening filtering through the half-closed blinds. In his hand, he held the letter from home, the very one that had been tugging at his heartstrings since it arrived days ago. He had read it multiple times, each word pulling him back to Manila, to the life he once knew, to the family that now felt so distant. The city outside hummed with life, but inside, Nathan was locked in the quiet turmoil of his own thoughts.

He glanced over at Abby, who was scrolling through her phone on the other side of the room, seemingly lost in her own world. She had been distant lately, consumed by the ongoing legal disputes with her family and the emotional weight of their unresolved issues. Nathan could see the toll it was taking on her, but he wasn't sure how to bridge the growing chasm between them. He cared deeply for Abby—he always had—but lately, he had begun to feel as though their lives were heading in opposite directions.

The letter had arrived at a time when he was already questioning everything. His writing, once his anchor, had suffered from the weight of his inner conflict. He no longer felt the same connection to the craft that had once fueled his passion. Instead, he found himself consumed by doubts about his relationship with Abby and the choices he had made in the past months.

Nathan's family had always been a pillar of support, even when he didn't realize it. They had celebrated his successes, been there during his failures, and provided a safety net when the world seemed to collapse around him. Now, after months of keeping them at arm's length, they were reaching out again. His mother's words in the letter echoed in his mind: "We miss you, anak. Come home, even just for a while. We're here for you, always." It was a simple invitation, yet it carried the weight of years of love, expectation, and loyalty.

But returning home wasn't just about seeing his family again—it was about confronting everything that had happened since he left. It meant acknowledging the rift that had grown between him and Abby, and it meant facing the fact that he was no longer the same person who had boarded a plane to Tokyo months ago.

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. The thought of going back to Manila filled him with a mix of longing and dread. He missed his family, the familiar streets, and the warmth of home, but he also feared what returning would mean for his relationship with Abby. She had been such a huge part of his life in Tokyo, but their bond had grown more complicated as time went on. Abby was fiercely independent, often dismissive of family ties—traits that had initially drawn him to her, but now made him question if they were truly compatible in the long run.

"Nathan?" Abby's voice broke through his thoughts. She looked up from her phone, concern etched on her face. "You've been quiet. What's going on?"

He hesitated, unsure of how to start the conversation that had been weighing on his mind. "I've been thinking..." he began slowly, choosing his words carefully. "About going back home. Just for a visit."

Abby's expression immediately shifted, her eyes narrowing. "Why? What's there for you in Manila that you don't have here?"

Nathan felt a knot form in his stomach. He had anticipated this reaction. Abby's strained relationship with her own family often bled into how she viewed his, and any mention of returning to Manila felt like a betrayal in her eyes.

"I just... I miss them. It's been months, and I haven't really talked to them much since I got here," Nathan said, trying to keep his tone neutral. "I feel like I owe it to them to visit, especially after everything."

Abby stood up and crossed her arms, a defensive posture that Nathan had come to recognize all too well. "You're just going to let them guilt you into going back? After everything we've talked about—about standing up for yourself, about not letting them control your life?"

"It's not about control," Nathan countered, feeling the frustration rise in his chest. "It's about family. They've been there for me my whole life, and now I'm just ignoring them? I can't do that."

"But what about us?" Abby asked, her voice sharp. "What does this mean for us? You know how I feel about family ties. They're suffocating, Nathan. They'll never let you live your own life."

Nathan closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady himself. "I'm not you, Abby. I love my family. Yes, we have our issues, but that doesn't mean I should just cut them out. I can't live like that."

Abby's face hardened, and for a moment, the room felt unbearably tense. "So, you're choosing them over me?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Nathan opened his eyes and met her gaze, his heart pounding. He hadn't expected it to come to this, but now that the words were out, he realized this was the crux of their conflict. Abby saw his return to Manila as a betrayal, a sign that he was slipping away from her. But Nathan saw it as a necessary step toward reconciling the parts of his life that had been fractured since he met her.

"I'm not choosing them over you," Nathan said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't lose them either. I need both. I need balance."

Abby didn't respond immediately. She turned away, her arms still crossed, staring out the window. The silence between them was thick, filled with the unspoken tension that had been building for weeks. Nathan wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap between them, but he wasn't sure how. He wasn't even sure if it was possible anymore.

Finally, Abby spoke, her voice cold and distant. "Do whatever you want, Nathan. Go back to your family. But don't expect me to wait around for you."

Nathan's heart sank. He had hoped for understanding, for some sign that they could work through this together. But now, as he looked at Abby, he realized that she wasn't willing to compromise. Her disdain for family ties ran too deep, and it had poisoned the way she saw his relationship with his own family.

"I don't want to lose you," Nathan said, his voice strained. "But I also don't want to lose myself."

Abby didn't turn around. She remained by the window, her back to him. "Maybe you already have."

Nathan sat there, the weight of her words pressing down on him like a vice. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to fix this. All he knew was that, for the first time since he had met Abby, he was seriously considering going home—no matter the consequences.

And as the silence stretched between them, Nathan realized that his return to Manila might not just be a visit—it might be the beginning of the end.