The late afternoon sun dipped low over the UP Sunken Garden, painting the sprawling field in soft hues of amber and gold. It was a rare moment of calm in the middle of bustling Quezon City—trees swaying gently in the breeze, the faint sound of students laughing in the distance. Mikha should have found it relaxing, peaceful even.
But instead, her entire body was tense, her jaw clenched as she glared at Colet, who was standing beside her, far too casual for Mikha's liking.
"What the fuck, Colet?" Mikha hissed under her breath, elbowing her best friend sharply in the ribs.
Colet flinched, rubbing her side with an exaggerated wince. "Aray naman! Ano ba?"
"You set me up!" Mikha spat, her voice low but furious.
Colet gave her an innocent look that didn't fool Mikha for a second. "Hindi ako 'to, promise!" Colet said, holding up her hands defensively. "I mean, technically it wasn't me. Maloi texted and—"
Mikha shot her a sharp look. "Maloi?! You're in cahoots with Maloi?"
Before Colet could defend herself further, Mikha's eyes flicked past her, catching movement in the distance. Two figures were approaching, walking side by side along the gravel path.
Mikha's stomach dropped.
Even from this distance, she could make out who they were: Maloi and Aiah.
The two women were walking toward them, their steps slow but deliberate, the late afternoon light catching the soft waves of Aiah's hair. She was wearing jeans and a simple white shirt, her usual understated confidence radiating through her every step. She looked effortless. Gorgeous. And entirely unwelcome.
Mikha turned back to Colet, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "This is why you brought me here? To ambush me?"
Colet gave her a sheepish grin. "Hindi siya ambush. More like... a friendly intervention."
"Friendly?" Mikha snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut. "You lied to me. You said we were going for a walk!"
"And we are walking," Colet said, gesturing to the grassy field around them. "See? Nature. Fresh air. It's good for you. And... you know, so is closure."
Mikha groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Closure? Colet, I swear to God—"
"Relax, ka lang! Just talk to her," Colet said, her voice softening. "You don't even have to forgive her. Just hear her out. For your own sake."
Before Mikha could argue further, the sound of footsteps crunching on gravel grew louder. Maloi and Aiah had arrived.
"Colet!" Maloi greeted brightly, clearly unfazed by the tension radiating off Mikha. She gave Colet a quick hug before turning to Mikha. "And Mikha. Nice to see you again."
Mikha forced a tight smile, her arms crossed over her chest. "Yeah. You too."
And then her eyes flicked to Aiah.
Aiah stood there, her hands stuffed into her pockets, her gaze hesitant but steady. "Hi, Colet, Mikha," she said softly, her voice careful, like she was stepping into fragile territory.
Mikha didn't respond immediately. Instead, she let her eyes rake over Aiah—taking in the way her lips pressed together nervously, the way her shoulders were slightly hunched, as if bracing herself for whatever was about to happen.
She looked unsure. Small. Vulnerable. And it only made Mikha angrier.
"Great," Mikha said flatly, her voice cutting through the silence. "Everyone's here. Now what?"
