10:45

PART 22

MARCH 29, 2002

That night, Rico was in his room, staring at the ceiling. The sound of laughter and music from the beach party outside seemed distant, almost muted. Despite the fun earlier in the day, Rico couldn’t shake off the weight in his chest. He had hoped that a few drinks would help him forget, but the alcohol only intensified his thoughts about Claudine.

His phone was on the nightstand, and without thinking, he picked it up. He scrolled through his contacts and paused at Claudine's name. His heart ached just seeing it. It had been days since their last conversation, and every missed call was like a reminder of how far apart they were.

Rico sighed and dialed her number again, for what felt like the hundredth time. The phone rang, but no answer. He hung up and stared at the screen, feeling more frustrated than ever. Why wasn’t she answering?

"I messed up," he whispered to himself, feeling the regret wash over him again.

The night grew quieter, and his thoughts only grew louder. Rico couldn't stop replaying everything in his head—their last talk, Claudine’s face when she said goodbye, the hurt in her eyes. He ran his hands through his hair and groaned, lying back on the bed.

Suddenly, Dom knocked and peeked inside. "Rico, okay ka lang, bro?"

Rico sat up, shaking his head. "Not really, Dom. I’ve been calling Claudine, pero hindi siya sumasagot."

Dom stepped inside and sat down on the chair. "Bro, give her time. Alam kong galit siya ngayon, but she loves you. You just need to be patient."

Rico nodded, but it didn’t make him feel any better. "Sobrang sakit lang, Dom. I wish I could take it all back. I never should have hurt her."

Dom sighed and gave him a pat on the back. "We all make mistakes, Rico. The best thing you can do now is to prove to her that you’re serious, that you won’t do it again."

"I love her, Dom. Sobra. I feel lost without her."

Dom nodded, understanding. "Then fight for her, but don’t force it. Kapag handa na siya, she’ll come around."

Rico nodded again, but as the night wore on, sleep refused to come. All he could think about was Claudine and the life they had built together. He missed her smile, her laughter, and the way she made everything feel right. He felt like a part of him was missing without her.

As the clock struck 3 AM, Rico picked up his phone one last time, hoping against hope that Claudine might have left him a message. But there was nothing. He dialed her number again, letting it ring a few more times before hanging up.

"Miss na miss kita, Clau," he whispered into the empty room, his heart heavy.

Rico stared at his phone after the seventh call went unanswered. The empty silence on the other end of the line only deepened the ache in his chest. He glanced at the bottles of alcohol on the table beside him—leftovers from earlier that night. Without thinking, he grabbed one and poured himself a drink.

As he sat back down on the bed, he took a long sip, hoping the warmth of the alcohol would dull the pain, but it didn’t. Each sip only made him feel more hollow, more alone. The room felt cold, and no amount of alcohol could fill the emptiness that Claudine's absence had left.

He took another drink, then another. Each one was a failed attempt to forget, to stop thinking about how he had hurt the one person he loved the most.

“Why did I mess up?” Rico muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were heavy, but his mind wouldn’t let him rest. No matter how hard he tried to forget, her face—her tears—kept coming back.