It was December 23, 2023, a Saturday, and the crisp, coastal breeze carried the salty scent of the sea across the construction site. I was on-site, standing at the base of what would soon be the main villa of our private resort project in Batangas. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow on the freshly laid foundation and newly erected structures. Phase 4 was in full swing—we were deep into Weeks 16 to 18, focused on exterior work and roofing. The clatter of hammers and the whir of drills blended with the sounds of the sea, a symphony of progress and persistence.

"Siguraduhin nating doblehin ang pag-check sa waterproofing membranes bago tapusin ang pag-install ng bubong," sabi ko sa crew, na tumango, ang kanilang mga noo'y nakakunot sa konsentrasyon. My boots crunched over gravel and half-dried cement as I walked along the perimeter, mentally ticking off my checklist. The site bustled with activity—workers lifted steel beams, positioned scaffolding, and secured wooden panels.

Tumingin ako sa aking relo. Hapon na, at ang araw ay nagsisimula nang lumubog, pinipintahan ang kalangitan ng mga guhit ng rosas at kahel. A soft fatigue settled over my limbs, the kind that came with long hours and the unyielding push for precision. Still, a sense of fulfillment warmed me; we were bringing the project to life, one beam, one brick at a time.

"Ar. Pertierra, sabi ni Engr. Santos gusto niyang malaman ang opinyon mo tungkol sa roof truss sa ibabaw ng guest villa," isang boses ang tumawag. I turned to see Donell, one of our site coordinators, gesturing from the opposite end of the site.

"Papunta na ako," sagot ko, binigyan siya ng mabilis na thumbs-up bago tumuloy. The sun's rays caught the sweat on my skin, making it glisten as I navigated through the maze of materials and tools. It was moments like these that tested every ounce of resilience I had, but I thrived on it—the challenges, the exhaustion, the satisfaction of solving problems on the fly.

Parang lumilipad ang oras kapag ganito ako kaabala sa trabaho. It wasn't until I was making notes on a blueprint spread across a makeshift table that I felt the sensation of being watched. A familiar warmth spread over my skin, an intuition honed over the years. I glanced up, squinting against the glare of the sun.

There he was—CL. He stood at the edge of the construction zone, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, a soft smile curving his lips. Ang hangin ay nagpagulo sa kanyang maitim na buhok, at kahit mula sa malayo, nakita ko ang pagmamahal sa kanyang mga mata. Bigla at hindi inaasahang tumalon ang puso ko.

"CL!" I called out, abandoning my clipboard as I hurried across the site. Ang pagod na naramdaman ko ilang sandali bago iyon ay nawala sa bawat hakbang. As soon as I reached him, I threw my arms around his neck, inhaling the familiar, calming scent of him—a blend of cedarwood and something inherently CL.

Tumawa siya, ang mga braso niya ay yumakap sa aking baywang. "Miss mo ako?" pang-aasar niya, ang boses niya ay isang mahina na bulong sa aking tainga.

"Palagi," sagot ko, humilig pabalik upang matugunan ang kanyang tingin. Ang mga bakas ng pagod ay humupa nang tumingin ako sa kanya, ang kanyang presensya ay parang pamahid sa pagod ng araw. "Ano'ng ginagawa mo rito?"

He smiled wider, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I brought everything you'd need for the holiday," he said, gesturing over his shoulder. "It's all in the car."

The thought of heading home, of driving back to Mariveles and spending Christmas with the people who mattered most, made my chest tighten with a mix of anticipation and relief.

"You're incredible, you know that?" I said, the words coming out more like a breath.

"Only because you inspire me," he countered, his expression softening into something vulnerable, something unspoken. For a moment, the clamor of the site, the noise of drills and hammering, receded into the background, leaving just us—a pocket of peace in the middle of all the chaos.

"Kailangan na rin natin umalis agad maya-maya," he added. "It's a long drive, and I want to make sure we get there before midnight."

I nodded, glancing around one last time at the site, the skeletons of future villas silhouetted against the dying light. Pride swelled in my chest; this was my work, my imprint. But home was calling—a different kind of fulfillment waiting at the end of the road.

"Let me just wrap up a few things, and I'll be right there," I told him, already feeling the pull toward both the completion of today's tasks and the promise of rest and warmth.

"Take your time," he said, squeezing my hand. "I'll be waiting."

Habang pinapanood ko siyang maglakad pabalik sa kanyang kotse, tila naging kaunti ang bigat ng pagod ng araw. In a few short hours, we'd be on our way, leaving behind blueprints and steel beams for the comfort of holiday lights and the familiar hum of home. And for the first time in weeks, I felt ready—ready to pause, breathe, and simply be.

***

The drive to Mariveles was long but eased by CL's presence and the quiet conversations that filled the car. We shared stories from the past few weeks, laughter bubbling up as we exchanged anecdotes. The stars above blurred by as we moved along the winding roads, their faint glow a reminder of how far we had come—not just tonight, but in all the moments that led us here.

When we finally pulled into the driveway of my childhood home, the warm light spilling from the windows wrapped around us like an embrace. Bumukas ang pintuan bago pa man kami makalabas, at naroon si mommy, ang kanyang mukha ay nagliliwanag sa tuwa.

"Anak, you're home!" sabi niya, nagmamadaling salubungin kami. Her arms enveloped me in a hug that was soft and familiar, carrying the scent of her floral perfume.

"Hi, Mommy," I whispered, holding her tightly before she turned her attention to CL.

"And this must be CL," she said, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she reached out to him.

"Opo, Tita. It's nice to finally meet you," sabi ni CL, ang boses niya ay magalang at tapat habang hinawakan niya ang kamay nito.

Bago pa makapagpalitan ng iba pang mga bati, lumitaw ang nakababatang kapatid kong si Mags sa likod ni mommy, ang mga mata niya ay malaki at puno ng halos hindi mapigilang kasiyahan.

"Grabe, Ate Shan!" sigaw ni Mags, tumakbo palapit. "Why didn't you tell me your soon-to-be husband is this perfectly gorgeous?" She stared at CL with awe, her mouth running faster than her filter could catch. "Sabi ko na nga ba, alam kong mahilig ka sa mga guwapong lalaki—all the guys you dated were good-looking—but this? This is next level!"

Laughter erupted around us, breaking the formality and filling the space with warmth. CL grinned, a bit sheepish but clearly amused, while I covered my face with my hand, shaking my head at Mags' unfiltered excitement.

"Mags, mahiya ka naman!" I managed between giggles, but the moment was too pure, too full of joy to chide her seriously.

"Okay lang, Shan," sabi ni CL, may halong tawa. "I think I like being part of this welcoming committee."

And just like that, the exhaustion of the past weeks slipped away, replaced by the comfort of home and the promise of togetherness.

After the laughter at the dinner table settled down, the warm glow of home filled the room. The comforting hum of familiar voices, the scent of mom's sinigang lingering in the air, and Mags' playful banter reminded me why this house, no matter how far I wandered, would always be my anchor. It had been so long since I felt this grounded.

Just as I stood to clear my plate, my phone buzzed on the counter. Kinuha ko ito at nakita ang pangalan ni Hillary na kumikislap sa screen.

"Hello?" I answered, already grinning. Hillary's voice always had a way of transporting me back to simpler times, filled with late-night talks and whispered secrets.

"Shan! Finally! We're all here at home," Hillary's voice rang out with its usual exuberance. "Zarina and I just got back, and Dylan and Herbert are coming over too. You need to come, it's been forever!"

"Forever" was an understatement. Five months felt like a lifetime. The last time we'd all been together was at Herbert's wedding, a night filled with champagne bubbles and laughter. I glanced at CL, who was sipping the last of his water, eyes wandering around the room as if trying to memorize every detail.

"Should I come alone, or do you want me to bring my plus one?" pang-aasar ko, alam na ang sagot.

Hillary paused for a beat, then gasped. "Weh? Meron? Isama mo!"

"Alright, alright. We'll be over in a few minutes," I promised. I hung up and turned to CL, who raised an eyebrow at me, playful curiosity dancing in his eyes.

"Gusto mo bang makilala ang mga kaibigan ko?" tanong ko.

"Oo naman," sabi niya na may ngiti. "Lead the way."

We stepped out into the cool evening, the air filled with the scent of jasmine and the faint murmur of crickets. The path to Hillary and Zarina's house was as familiar to me as my own heartbeat—a few steps across the lawn, past the low stone wall that separated our properties. As we approached, the warm glow from their living room spilled out into the front yard, casting golden light onto the cracked pavement.

"Magugustuhan ka nila," bulong ko kay CL, pinipisil ang kanyang kamay.

"I'm hoping," he said with mock seriousness, and I chuckled.

The front door was already ajar, a sign of the easy trust we shared in this neighborhood. I pushed it open, calling out, "We're here!"

From the hallway, I could hear the clinking of glasses and Zarina's boisterous laugh. We headed upstairs, CL following close behind, and stepped onto the rooftop. Memories rushed in—nights spent under a sky full of stars, sharing stories, dreams, and heartbreaks. The table was set with mismatched plates, bowls of chips, and a few bottles of beer sweating in the evening heat.

"Shan!" sigaw ni Hillary, humarap at huminto sa gitna ng kanyang galaw. Ang kanyang mga mata ay lumipat mula sa akin patungo kay CL, lumalaki sa gulat.

Si Zarina, na abala sa pag-aayos ng mga mangkok, tumingin pataas at naglabas ng isang dramatikong hininga. "Okay, sino itong Adonis na ito?"

"Guys, this is CL," sabi ko, pinipigilan ang ngiti na nagbabadyang sumulpot sa aking mukha. "My boyfriend." I paused for effect. "And we're getting married in January"

Dylan, who had been sipping his beer, choked mid-swallow and coughed, eyes bugging out. "Wait, what?"

Herbert, ever the composed one, stepped forward and offered his hand to CL. "Welcome, man. It's nice to have you here."

CL shook his hand, a warm smile lighting up his face. "Thanks. It's great to finally meet Shan's friends."

"Sandali," sabi ni Hillary, nakapatong ang mga kamay sa kanyang balakang. "You mean to tell me I've been your best friend since birth, and I'm only now meeting the guy you're going to marry?"

I laughed, a sound that felt like a release. "That's why we're here now. You're meeting him, and he's meeting all of you."

Ang mga mata ni Zarina ay kumunot, pagkatapos ay lumawak nang magliwanag ang isang ideya sa kanya. "Sandali! Nakita kita sa kasal ni Herbert. You were sitting near us, weren't you?"

CL nodded, chuckling. "Guilty. I'm Ariana's cousin."

"Ah," Dylan said, his face clearing up. "The mystery man revealed."

We all settled into seats, CL sliding comfortably next to me. The conversation shifted seamlessly from introductions to life updates, laughter ringing out every few moments. Dylan, who'd been nursing his beer, sighed after a while, looking out at the city lights.

"Annica and I broke up," sabi niya nang mahina. Namalagi ang katahimikan, isang magalang na paghinto para sa bigat ng kanilang apat na taong relasyon na unti-unting naglalaho sa mga salitang iyon.

"Dyl," I said, my voice dropping. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged, a small, defeated smile. "It is what it is. I just—I don't know if I'll ever feel like that again."

Si Zarina, na hindi kailanman nagpapabigat ng sitwasyon nang matagal, ay biglang nagsalita. "Well, plot twist: I thought you'd be the first one to get married, not the one we'd worry about!"

Everyone laughed, even Dylan, the corners of his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement.

"Speaking of plot twists," sabi ni Hillary, humarap sa akin. "Nagsusulat ka na ulit?"

The question caught me off guard. Ang ngiti sa aking mukha ay bahagyang nanghina sapat para mapansin ito ni CL. Tumingin siya sa akin, ang kanyang mga mata ay naghanap sa akin ng tahimik na pag-aalala.

I shifted in my seat and let out a soft, rueful laugh. "I haven't written anything in eight years," I admitted, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. The realization struck me harder than I expected. Eight years. A lifetime ago.

Hillary's eyes softened with understanding, but the guilt that weighed on me was relentless. I could almost hear the echoes of my teenage self, the girl who stayed up late with nothing but a notebook and the glow of her desk lamp, weaving stories that felt alive. That girl's passion had burned so fiercely it seemed impossible it would ever fade. Yet here I was, 25 years old, an architect with a portfolio of impressive projects—and a heart that felt oddly hollow.

"You were a writer?" CL's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, gentle and laced with genuine surprise.

Luminga ako sa kanya at tumango, pinilit ang isang ngiti. "Oo, dati," I said, the words carrying the weight of old memories. "Back in high school, it was all I ever wanted to do."

Hillary leaned in, her grin returning. "CL, did you know Shan had a novel published? It was called Past Memories, and it was picked up by one of the top publishing houses in the Philippines."

CL's eyebrows shot up, his surprise quickly turning into admiration. "You're kidding," sabi niya, nakatingin sa akin na may malalaking mata. "Bakit hindi mo sinabi sa akin 'yan?"

I chuckled, feeling a blush creep up my neck. "I guess it just never came up," I said, avoiding the probing stares of my friends. But Hillary wasn't done yet.

"And," she continued, turning to CL with a mischievous glint in her eye, "she was a big shot in school too. Nanalo si Shan ng 2nd place sa Feature Writing at the DSPC when she was only 13. Partida, first time niya sumali sa DSPC no'n. And that's what got her a spot at the regionals."

Tumango ako, may malayong ngiti sa aking mga labi habang sumasagi ang mga alaala. "That was the start of everything," I said softly. "That competition changed my life."

"Wait," CL said, a smile spreading across his face as he absorbed this new side of me. "You were that good?"

"She was more than good," Hillary cut in. "She was the editor-in-chief of our school paper, and when she was 14, she won a Gold medal for fiction writing. That's when it all really took off."

Napangiti ako habang nagkukuwento si Hillary. She really was my best friend since birth. She remembered all those details about me as if they were hers. I love her.

"Oh, naaalala ko 'yan," sabi ni Zarina, sumiklab ang kanyang mga mata. "One of the judges at that competition was an editor at the publishing company, right?"

I nodded again, this time with a bittersweet smile. "Yeah, that's how they discovered me," I said. "It was crazy. They reached out after the competition and offered me a publishing deal. I remember asking them how they even knew about me, and they told me one of the judges had recommended my work."

"Grabe," sabi ni CL, ang tono niya'y puno ng paghanga. He took my hand and squeezed it, anchoring me to the present.

Napalunok ako, naramdaman ang bigat sa lalamunan ko. "But just as I was starting to gain momentum, life happened. Architecture school took over when I was 16, and then everything else snowballed. Classes, exams, projects. By the time I graduated at 22, I was too deep into the architecture world to look back."

Naging malungkot ang ekspresyon ni Hillary. "Napaka-passionate mo sa pagsusulat. It's hard to believe you had to give it up."

"I didn't just give it up," I whispered, more to myself than to anyone else. "I forgot how much I loved it."

The silence that followed was heavy with understanding. It was as if everyone around the table could feel the weight of my words, the unspoken regret that I had buried under years of deadlines and drafts. I had spent eight years convincing myself that architecture was what I wanted, that every late night and every successful project was proof of my dedication and growth. But was it? Or had I simply got used to it that I mistook proficiency for passion?

"Well," CL said, breaking the silence with a soft smile, "it's never too late, right? Maybe this is your sign to pick up a pen again."

I looked at him, gratitude swelling in my chest. "Maybe it is," I said, and for the first time in years, the idea of writing didn't feel like an impossible dream. It felt like a promise—one I owed to myself.

______

a/n: 6 chapters left before the Epilogue! :))