Aiah had been on edge all week, and she hated it.
She wasn't one to let things linger or eat away at her quietly, but ever since that afternoon at Mikha's condo—with Haru curling into her lap and Mikha looking at her with those soft, searching eyes like she hadn't stopped loving her—Aiah's mind had been tangled.
She was happy that Mikha seemed to be doing better. The condo was cleaner, her energy lighter, and there was a softness in the way she spoke, like the weight she'd carried for so long had started to lift. Aiah noticed the small changes—the way Mikha set boundaries with her time, how she actually took breaks from work, how she looked... healthier.
But that didn't stop the pang in Aiah's chest.
Because as much as she appreciated the growth, the effort, the changes... it all came after.
After the silence.
After the exhaustion.
After the relationship had unraveled in her hands while she waited for Mikha to show up.
And she didn't want to feel this way—resentful, guarded, tired of holding her heart in place—but it was there. That quiet ache. That question that never stopped whispering: Why now?
So she'd pulled back.
Mikha's texts still came—photos of Haru curled into ridiculous shapes, random memes, little updates—but Aiah found herself responding slower, giving one-word replies, or sometimes none at all. She needed space to sort through the fog in her chest.
One afternoon, she was at her condo with Maloi, just the two of them on the couch with snacks and coffee, music playing faintly in the background.
They had been talking about work, nothing too serious, until Maloi suddenly turned down the music and gave her one of those looks.
"Okay. Spill," Maloi said, setting her mug down. "You've been quiet since last week. What's going on?"
Aiah sighed, sinking further into the cushions. "I don't know... it's Mikha."
"Ah," Maloi nodded knowingly, curling her legs under her. "What happened this time?"
"Nothing. That's the thing." Aiah let out a quiet, frustrated laugh. "She's... being nice. Sweet, even. She's making an effort. I can see it. She's trying."
"But?"
Aiah frowned. "But I still feel... off. Like I'm happy she's getting her life together, but also hurt that she couldn't do it when we were together. I feel guilty for even thinking that way, pero 'di ko naman mapigilan."
Maloi tilted her head. "Bakit ka naggi-guilty? Aiah, you're allowed to feel things. You're not a saint, kahit minsan parang ganun ka mag-handle ng tao."
"I know, I just..." Aiah trailed off, hugging a pillow to her chest. "I don't want to get pulled into something again just because it feels familiar. I'm still figuring out what I want. Kung ready ba talaga ako, or if I'm just clinging to what we used to have."
There was a pause.
Then Maloi said, casually but carefully, "Why don't you try dating other people again?"
Aiah looked up, surprised. "What?"
"Just to see where you really are emotionally," Maloi explained. "I'm not saying go download all the dating apps, pero maybe it's time to open yourself to other possibilities, 'di ba? See if you're ready for something—or someone—new."
Aiah chewed on her lip, the idea settling somewhere uncertain in her chest.
She wasn't quite ready to say yes, but this time, she didn't immediately say no either.
