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?'"

The mood was light, but it dawned on both of us that we'd fallen into talking about work. A comfortable silence followed as we sipped our drinks, acknowledging with unspoken understanding that perhaps our dedication was part of the reason romantic relationships always seemed elusive. Tumingin ako sa abot-tanaw kung saan ang kalangitan ay isang ombré na halo ng malalambot na asul at simula ng ginto.

Before I could redirect the conversation to something more personal, my phone buzzed on the table, its vibration cutting through the quiet moment. A familiar number from the studio appeared on the screen, pulling me back into reality. My heart sank slightly as I knew what it meant.

"Hello? Yes, this is Shan," I answered, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Hi, Shan. Sorry for the short notice, but there's an urgent client meeting with the owner of the Wellness Resort. She's requested an immediate discussion on the design revisions," the voice on the other end said, a hint of urgency clear.

I swallowed back the frustration. It was always like this, wasn't it? The unpredictable nature of our profession. "Understood. I'll be there shortly."

As I hung up, I looked up to find Jefferson watching me with an understanding smile that only someone in our field could offer.

"Work calls?" tanong niya, alam na ang sagot.

"Oo, pasensya na, Jefferson. It's urgent," I said, guilt creeping into my voice.

"Shan, ayos lang. This is who we are," he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms with an easygoing expression. "Besides, there's always another day, right? We architects have to find time between deadlines."

The relief that washed over me was immediate. "Thank you, Jefferson. Really. Maybe next time we can talk about things that don't involve drafting tables and concrete calculations."

Tumawa siya nang mahina, ang tunog ay mainit at nakapagpapalakas ng loob. "Gusto ko 'yan. Good luck sa meeting, Shan."

I nodded, gathering my things. The restaurant's gentle clinking of glasses and hushed conversations faded behind me as I walked out into the afternoon sun. Valentine's Day would have to wait. As I hurried to the meeting, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd ever find a balance where love and work coexisted without one swallowing the other.

When I arrived at the meeting, the air felt tense, thick with unspoken frustration. The client—a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and a determined set to her mouth—was pacing the room, clearly agitated. She turned when I walked in, her gaze immediately locking on mine. Architect Pablo Roman stood at the far side of the table, arms crossed and jaw clenched. I could see the effort it took him to remain composed.

"Ah, Shan. Just in time," Ar. Pablo said, his voice tightly controlled. His eyes darted to me, a silent plea for backup. He gestured subtly with his hand toward the sprawling blueprints and concept sketches that had been laid out on the table. The main point of contention was scrawled in red ink—a proposed fifteen-storey building that loomed large and defiant against the original site plan.

Ano nga ulit ang pangalan ng kliyente na 'to?

Ah. Ma'am Clea.

"I'm not asking for the moon here, Architect Pablo," the client argued, waving a manicured hand. "Just one centralized structure where everything can be in one place. My vision needs grandeur, a landmark."

Ar. Pablo took a slow breath, pressing his fingers to his temples before looking up at me. He nodded for me to step in. I understood. The stakes were high—not just for the client's satisfaction, but for the integrity of the studio's principles.

I met the client's determined eyes and smiled calmly. "Ma'am Clea, I completely understand the desire to create a striking centerpiece, especially in a wellness resort. However, we need to consider the holistic experience of the guests. A tall, centralized building might seem impressive, but it goes against the very essence of what makes a wellness resort successful."

Ang mga kilay ng kliyente ay nagkibit, kaya nagpatuloy ako, idinagdag ang kaunting empatiya sa aking tono. "The goal of a wellness resort is to promote relaxation and well-being, which means prioritizing user safety and comfort. Mid-rise and high-rise structures can feel imposing and disconnected from nature. By designing laterally—one to two storeys at most—we ensure that guests remain close to the environment, which is proven to enhance relaxation and psychological well-being."

Architect Pablo's eyes glimmered with approval as I paused, allowing the client to process my words. I knew I needed to address the other elephant in the room: the sharp-edged designs she'd been adamant about.

"Additionally," sabi ko, pinipili ang aking mga salita nang maingat, "we have to consider the psychological impact of design elements. Sharp, angular edges may convey modernity, but they can also evoke tension, even subconsciously. When people come to a wellness resort, they're seeking peace, not the subtle stress that can come from harsh lines. Organic shapes, on the other hand, have a proven positive effect on the human mind—they evoke calmness, flow, and harmony. And if I may add, Pablo Roman Studio's reputation is built on our expertise with these very shapes."

Nagkaroon ng sandaling katahimikan habang iniyuko ng kliyente ang kanyang ulo, tinatanggap ang paliwanag. Her stance shifted, just slightly, and I knew I was getting through. She looked over the sketches again, this time with a more discerning eye.

"That... actually makes sense," inamin niya, habang lumalambot ang kanyang boses. The tension in the room began to dissipate like morning mist under the sun.

Pagkatapos ng ilang minuto pang pag-uusap, tumango siya, sumuko. "Let's go with the lateral, one to two-storey design. And we'll revise the sharp edges to something more... organic."

Ar. Pablo's shoulders relaxed visibly, and a subtle smile crossed his lips as the client gathered her things and left. The room was filled with a collective sigh of relief.

"Good work, Shan," Ar. Pablo said, a rare note of admiration coloring his usually brisk tone. "You have a gift for persuasion. You make clients see reason without them even realizing it."

"Thank you, Tek," I replied, a warm satisfaction blooming in my chest. Being able to align a client's vision with what was practical and beneficial was a skill I'd honed for years, but hearing that recognition from Ar. Pablo Roman made the long hours worth it.

As I left the meeting room, I felt a rush of pride. It was moments like these that reminded me why I had chosen this path—building not just structures, but experiences that resonated with human well-being and beauty. And for now, that was enough.

After the meeting, Ar. Pablo Roman's expression softened, his usually stern face taking on a rare, reflective quality. "By the way, Shan, did you know today is East's last day? He's flying back to the Philippines tomorrow to pursue his dream of becoming a pilot."

The news caught me off guard. A mix of surprise and a strange sense of joy fluttered in my chest. I hadn't expected to feel happy hearing that East was finally moving forward with his life. Since that unforgettable New Year's Eve, our interactions had remained strictly professional and casual, as if we'd silently agreed to draw a line and leave the past behind. I realized, with a touch of satisfaction, that I'd finally moved on from him.

"Wow," sabi ko, may ngiti sa aking mga labi. "I didn't know that."

Ar. Pablo's eyes twinkled knowingly. "He mentioned it a few days ago, but he kept it low-key. I think he wanted to avoid any big farewells. I'm supposed to meet him for dinner later. If you'd like, you can come along."

There was no hesitation on my part. "I'd love to join," I said, the words coming out with more enthusiasm than I'd expected. The thought of seeing East one last time, now that I felt completely detached and content, felt right.

"Good," Ar. Pablo nodded, a satisfied look on his face. "It'll be nice for him to have a proper send-off."

As the day unfolded and the warm glow of the Bali sunset cast an amber hue over the office, I found myself reflecting on how far I'd come. Just months ago, the idea of East leaving would have thrown me into a storm of emotions. Now, it felt like the closing chapter of a story I had outgrown—a story where the past no longer held the power it once did.

I texted Apinya, Liang Wei, and Kuya Marco to let them know I'd be out for dinner, and they responded with playful jabs, teasing me about having a dinner with the boss, and of course, with East. I rolled my eyes and smiled, not bothering to correct them.

The warm, inviting glow of the restaurant lamps painted the scene in hues of amber and gold as I walked inside. East was already there, seated by the window where the view opened out to the rolling waves of the sea under the starlit sky. His eyes caught mine, and for a fleeting moment, surprise flickered in them before being replaced by a calm, polite smile.

"Hey, Shan," sabi niya habang papalapit ako sa mesa. His voice carried a mixture of warmth and formality, as if we were two old friends catching up after some time apart. I returned the smile and slid into the chair opposite him.

Before either of us could say more, East's phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen and answered, his brow furrowing slightly as he listened. "Yes, Architect," sabi niya, tumango habang pinoproseso ang hindi inaasahang balita. "No worries, we'll manage. Take care."

He set the phone down and met my questioning gaze. "Hindi makakapunta si Architect Pablo. Last-minute client meeting," he explained with a shrug. "He said we should still enjoy the evening."

A beat of silence passed, and we both laughed, the awkwardness broken. The idea of sharing an unplanned dinner with East on Valentine's Day was something neither of us had anticipated. We signaled for the server and ordered our meals and a bottle of wine.

As the initial pleasantries faded, I took a sip of water and finally broached the topic that had been sitting in the back of my mind. "I heard you're going back to the Philippines tomorrow," sabi ko, habang maingat na pinapanood ang kanyang ekspresyon.

Tumango si East, isang maliit, tapat na ngiti ang lumitaw. "Oo, bukas na 'yong flight ko. I finally saved enough to start my training to become a pilot." He paused, his eyes softening as he spoke. "I didn't want to stay as just a Licensed Aircraft Maintenance Engineer forever. Flying has always been my dream."

Hearing the passion in his voice made me smile, a warmth spreading through me that had nothing to do with the wine. "That's amazing, East. Sobrang saya ko para sa 'yo. You deserve to chase that dream," I said sincerely. "And... I'm sorry if things didn't work out the way either of us thought they would, but maybe it's for the better."

His eyes met mine, glistening with a hint of emotion I hadn't seen before. "You don't have to apologize, Shan," he said, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "You were right to make the choices you did. I'm grateful for how everything turned out. And I want you to know, you're an incredible person. I know you'll go far because of the fire you carry."

I blinked, surprised by the heartfelt words. Memories of our brief, intense connection flashed through my mind—shared laughter, whispered conversations that felt like secrets, and the eventual unraveling that had left me wondering for so long. "Thank you, East. That means a lot," I replied, my voice soft. "You deserve good things, too. You've always been so devoted—to your family, to your dreams."

He looked down at his wine glass for a moment before glancing back at me. "I'm sorry, too. For ghosting you. It wasn't because of you—it was me, trying to deal with too much at once. But you were, and still are, the greatest woman I've ever known. And I doubt I'll meet anyone like you again."

A strange, bittersweet ache settled in my chest, but it wasn't painful. It was closure, the kind I hadn't realized I needed. I reached across the table and touched his hand lightly, offering him a smile. "It's okay, East. We both grew from it, didn't we? And here we are."

Pareho kaming tumawa nang mahina, mayroong pagkakaintindihan sa pagitan namin. There, in that cozy restaurant on Valentine's Day, we found peace. Not as lovers, not even as the 'almosts ' we once were, but as two people who had shared something fleeting and beautiful, now able to let it rest.

To new beginnings, spoken and unspoken. And as we finished our meal, a weight lifted from both our hearts, leaving only gratitude and hope for the roads ahead.