The Littlest Things

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“What if I’m wrong?”

The question, asked in an almost-whisper, hung suspended in mid-air, and hearing it escape her mouth sucked the life out of him as they sat across each other in one corner far from the main entrance of a coffeehouse in Tagaytay. It was a windy Saturday afternoon, and the chill only added to the numbing of his heart. Drowning out the occasional noises of machines and chitchats, the question then landed on the table between them, bravely waiting to be answered. 

“Ha?” he managed to croak out, feigning confusion, after about two minutes of silence. She cleared her throat.

“Pa’no kung mali ako? What if I’m wrong about you?” Her voice grew steadier, and she looked directly at him. “What if I’m wrong about everything at tama sila sa lahat ng tina-tag nila sa’kin?”

That stung. That hit the right spot. He sighed, and he felt waves of different emotions all at once. Daniel sensed a hint of rage bubbling under the surface but he tried to calm down. His gaze travelled from her eyes to her right hand, which was holding her phone – Twitter app open – and he knew that a fresh batch of you’ll-never-be-good-enough-for-her-you-asshole tweets flooded her mentions. He wasn’t so sure of their reasons anymore. He looked up to meet her gaze, finding her doll-cute face creased in all the wrong places, looking like she was about to cry. Impulse told him to hold her, but the rage he felt after knowing how those stupid tweets could shake her got the better of him. 

“Sa isang buong araw, ilang beses mong naiisip na nagkamali ka sa ‘kin?!” he lashed out.

As if on cue, he saw a distant flash of lightning followed by a low rumble of thunder, and he could have laughed at the absurdity of how movie-like it seemed if only his anger and frustration weren’t present at that moment. “Ano, Kathryn? Ilang beses?”

“Keep your voice down,” she hissed, looking around. Kathryn stuffed her phone inside her bag while trying to explain her side. “Hindi naman yun ang point eh. I just want to know kung naiisip mo din ba minsan kung—"

“Kung mali ako para sa’yo?” To that, he gave a bitter laugh. “Na wala akong pake sa ‘yo? Na ikaw yung mas nagmamahal, ganun ba? Na ayokong mag-post sa putanginang Instagram na ‘yan dahil may iba ‘kong nililigawan? At naniniwala ka dun?” He sort of waited for her to answer, but she was at a loss for words, sitting there looking every bit sorry as she was defiant, and that’s when he knew that one more second in that stuffy, god-forsaken coffeehouse would make him reach his boiling point. 

So he stormed his way out. 

Daniel was aware of the eyes that followed him as he left the place and the whispers that ensued after. He glanced sideways and saw some nicotine-loving ash blondes, holding their phones out, and perhaps trying to take a picture of him. Resisting the urge to smoke, he went straight to the parking lot but stopped short after hearing hurried footsteps behind him. And without even looking, he was too sure it was Kathryn.

God help him, he had already memorized even the tap-tap-tap of her flats. 

“Deej,” she called out. Her tone did not hide her own frustration. She was tired and so was he. He closed his eyes and counted to three, hoping for his anger to subside, but the bottled up pain from months and months of being called a good-for-nothing bastard took control. 

“What?” he snapped, facing her. He didn’t know what his eyes revealed, but he saw her own widen a half-millimeter, her face did nothing to hide her concern, and, all of a sudden, he felt vulnerable, stripped naked, acutely aware that she could see right through him and then he wasn’t sure any longer whether he found that comforting or frightening or both at the same time.