At Last, Him

Chapter 19: The Roads Ahead

The early afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the streets of Bali as I made my way to the restaurant. The tropical breeze carried a subtle hint of salt and flowers, a reminder that even the busy life of an architect came with its moments of unexpected serenity. Valentine's Day had never been a significant event for me, just another day that happened to be wrapped in red hearts and romance I wasn't sure I believed in anymore. But today was different. Today, I was meeting Ar. Jefferson Bernardo—the eighth man on Architect Pablo's meticulously curated list of eligible professionals for me to date. It was starting to feel like a series of blind auditions, but I wasn't one to back down from opportunities, especially when they came with an architect's sharp mind and good humor.

As I approached the entrance of the open-air restaurant, a mix of curiosity and mild apprehension stirred in me. Jefferson was waiting by a window, the sunlight reflecting off his slightly wavy, jet-black hair. Tumayo siya nang makita ako, matangkad at mahinahon, at ang kanyang madidilim na mata ay kumikislap sa pagkilala. At 26, he was only three years older than me, but that age difference felt perfectly balanced between familiarity and new perspective. The faint touch of his Filipino heritage was evident in the way he carried himself, confident yet warm, the perfect blend of Filipino and American sensibilities. He held a bouquet of white lilies in one hand, their fragrance subtle but poignant.

"Hi, Shan. Happy Valentine's Day," bati niya, ang kanyang malalim na boses ay may halong mapaglarong sinseridad.

"Hi, Jefferson. Happy Valentine's Day," I responded, accepting the bouquet with a smile. I hadn't expected flowers, and the thoughtful gesture softened the walls I'd unconsciously built.

We settled into our seats, and I took a moment to appreciate the ambiance. The restaurant was known for its fusion of Balinese and modern design—bamboo structures with high ceilings and wide, arched windows that allowed the warm breeze to flow freely. It was elegant without trying too hard, much like Jefferson himself, who wore a light blue button-down rolled at the sleeves, hinting at a casual side beneath the professionalism.

We started with the typical small talk, touching on how we ended up in Bali, the differences between designing for tropical climates versus urban skyscrapers, and the challenges of cultural integration in projects. Jefferson's stories were punctuated with self-deprecating humor that made me laugh more than I expected to. He recounted tales of his early days in architecture school, working double shifts at his father's firm back in California while struggling with deadlines that stretched into the night.

"Sometimes I wondered if my professors were out to ruin my social life," pabirong sabi niya, may bahid ng pangungulila sa kanyang tinig. "Not that I had much of one to begin with."

"Tell me about it. I'm pretty sure I once survived an entire week on energy drinks and the hope that I wouldn't pass out on my model," sabi ko, kasabay ng kanyang magaan na tono. Ang mga kwento ay tila salamin sa aking sariling mga karanasan, na nagbigay-daan sa isang madaling ugnayan sa pagitan namin.

But then, the conversation naturally steered back to what we both knew best: work. We laughed over stories of stubborn clients with impossible demands, like the man who insisted on a rooftop infinity pool but wanted no added load to his building structure. Jefferson described a client who changed the project scope so often that it felt like designing a new house every week.

"Sa tingin mo ba minsan na parang mga project therapists lang tayo na may CAD skills?" tanong niya, may kasiyahan sa kanyang mga mata.

Tumawa ako, tumango. "Palagi. Ang pinakamalala ay kapag sinabi nilang, 'I know it's last-minute, but could we just add this entire wing to the building?'"