THE months are unbearable.

Jiya wakes up scooted to her side of the bed. Always. Every morning, even though she sleeps on the side once-his the night before.

And then the realization that she lives alone here, she sleeps alone on this too-big bed, seeps in like wine passing the bloodstream.

Jiya feels like a walking corpse in this house. When she comes home after work, eats dinner alone, she hears their giggles and moans and gasps, the whispers and screams of their names, the clumsy footsteps across the flooring when she sees the ghost of her and Migo dancing in the living room to his loud and off-tune singing to that fucking song—"Isayaw mo ako, sa gitna ng ulan, mahal ko...kapalit man nito'y buhay ko..."—they echo all around the house, loud and vibrating.

Migo's laugh isn't here.

Migo isn't here.

Work is a welcome distraction. She feels high of her new title, her booked schedule, the bright faces of her colleagues. Gelo was right—there are nap rooms, and the food tastes better.

She can go to dinner and drink wine with her co-workers and laugh, but then she'd check on her phone every few minutes and ask herself bakit hindi pa nagte-text si Migo. Nasa hospital pa ba siya? Kumain na ba? Is he picking her up?

Elaine wags her eyebrows at her when she checks again for the nth time. "You waiting for someone? Boyfriend?"

And then Jiya will stiffen and Gelo will feel it beside her, and she'll paste a smile on her face and force out, "No." And then she'll ask for a refill and drink until she stops wondering why he hasn't told her not to drink and drive and to be safe and that he loves her. Doon niya lang pinalitan ang wallpaper ng picture nila because she keeps forgetting na—

She keeps forgetting.

And then she'll go back to the house where she lives alone and stain the cushions on the sofa with her tears.

Jiya kept all his notes and their pictures and his gifts tucked inside her bottom drawer in her closet. She found several shirts of his in her luggage that she forgot she packed. She found hoodies and caps and locked them all inside. Caged.

Ganito ba ang gusto niya?

"You know it was the right decision," Van says quietly sa FaceTime nila. "It's not easy, Ji, pero you would've been more miserable if you stayed with him. Mahirap paniwalaan ngayon, pero alam mong you did the right thing for yourself."

Jiya had her beer out and she was ready to just hang out with her girls without thinking of him, without mentioning him, pero sinabi ni Addie while they were laughing, "Tumatanda na ako! Akala ba ni Castillo magiging young and fertile ako forever?"

And then, without thinking, sabi ni Jiya, "Baka mauna pa kami ni Migo sa inyo—"

Her fingers almost dropped the bottle. It was the first time she said his name out loud again. After months.

And then the next thing she knew, she was wrecked again. Crying. Sobbing. Wanting to hurt herself—kasi tama ba 'tong desisyon niya? Paano siya magiging masaya kung wala naman si Migo?

"It's not your fault, Jiya babes," Addie adds quietly, looking guilty. "You did what's best for you."

"I'm selfish," Jiya chokes out, trembling, hugging herself because damn it, wala si Migo dito, wala, wala, putangina, wala siya—"I left him alone."

"You put him first for years, Jiya," Van says fiercely. "Mahal namin si Mi—"

Jiya whimpers.

"Mahal namin siya and kaibigan namin siya," Van continues, jaw tight. "Pero when it came down it, he was going to tie you down with a chain for a ring."

'Yon ba? 'Yon ba ang gagawin ni Migo if she agreed to marry him?

Dapat ba pinabayaan niya na sundan siya ni Migo here sa New York? Would they have been okay kahit na she's still working with Gelo? Siya pa rin ang uuwian niya e. Siya pa rin ang mahal niya. Would Migo finally find peace kung kasal na sila tapos dito sila for her work?

Or would he have used the marriage to show Gelo what he could never have?

Putangina. Kahit naman hindi sila kasal, walang balak si Jiya na mahalin, hawakan, o tingnan si Gelo Montemayor the way she does—did—with Migo. Single man o hindi.

Hindi maintindihan ni Migo 'yon.

*

His social media is collecting dust.

He doesn't delete their pictures. He doesn't block her.

Pero hindi pa rin alam ni Jiya kung kamusta na siya.

Jiya doesn't ask Inggo during one of their weekly calls. They talked about her work, her adjustment in New York, Maureen, and his residency. But never about him.

Until Inggo sighs and says, "Jiya, this is killing me. Seeing you both like this."

Both? Hindi rin ba siya nakakakain? Nakakaligo without crying because she keeps waiting for him to step behind her and wrap his arms around her? Nakakatulog kasi ang laki ng putanginang space sa bed?

"He moved out of your house," Inggo tells her, expression blank. "When you left. Hindi niya kinaya, he keeps hearing your voice when you told him you're leaving. Wakes up screaming for you to stay or crying kasi he thought you were beside him."

Jiya shuts her eyes. Her chest feels like it's being stabbed again and again and again with every word. Her breathing becomes ragged.

"He took my condo," Inggo continues slowly, hands clencing into fists by his sides. "And I moved in with Rinn. He's...he works in the hospital and goes home. Works again the next morning and goes home. He smiles at the patients, but his eyes are dead. He asks me if you're happy every single day."

God. God. Fucking hell.

"What do you tell him?" Jiya whispers, and her eyes are acid burning her cheeks from the pain that soars from her chest to her whole body.

"If I say no, he'd think na walang kwenta ang pag-iwan mo sa kanya. You put him and yourself through hell for nothing. If I say yes..." Inggo sighs. "He'd probably kill himself because you can be happy without him. So I tell him I don't know."

Jiya's so tired. She's so damn tired of crying and this horrible, horrible pain. She feels like limbs sticking together uncoordinated, like leaving him tore out half of her arms, half of her legs, half of her ribs, her heart.

"We bought the ring already, you know," Inggo whispers.

Jiya fists the counter because she can't fucking breathe.

"But he was so deranged with his possessiveness he was suffocating you, Ji, and you were hurting him because you stopped fighting, too. As much as I hate seeing you both like this, kailangan n'yo 'to."

"Kailangan ko siya," Jiya whimpers pathetically. "Inggo, kailangan ko si—" She chokes on her breath that she has to punch her chest to let the air in. "Kailangan ko si Migo."

Wala siya dito, wala siya, wala, wala, wala.

*

"Isayaw mo ako, sa gitna ng ulan, mahal ko...kapalit man nito'y buhay ko..."

*

It would've been their seventh anniversary today.

Jiya dreams of the Tagaytay villa. She's making ugly eggs in the kitchen wearing nothing but Migo's shirt, loosely hanging over her shoulders, showing her collarbone, and she feels his warm, warm hands under the fabric, over her skin and she shivers, his breath on her ear and neck, and she feels his heartbeat through her back and his smile in his voice when he whispers, "Valle, mahal na mahal kita."

Jiya turns around and kisses him. Feels his smile pressed to her mouth.

She dreams of swimming in the pool with him after he puts on sunblock on her skin. She dreams of lying down on the lounge beds against his chest, feeling his breathing and the sun shining down on them. She dreams of helping him cook even though she's shit in the kitchen, she dreams of his laugh, hears it so, so clearly, dreams of kissing and touching him and begging for his touch in the open bathroom, against the windows, on the bed.

When she wakes up, she has a smile on her face. "Mi—"

The first syllable of his name felt so easy to say after that dream.

Dream. He's not here.

"Go," she finishes just as she turns around in bed on her side and finds that she's alone.

She lies there, numb, staring at the rumples on the sheets. Wonders if she stares long enough, she might see his face through her tears.

*

They have a book launch today and Jiya is happy with her work.

Gelo hugs her outside sa balcony when she stepped out to get fresh air. "Congratulations," he says in her ear, and when pulls back, he's smiling, eyes shining.

Jiya smiles back at him. "Thank you."

"I'm proud of you."

Her smile is frozen on her lips. She blinks, and Migo's there, right in front of her, smiling.

"I've always been proud of you," Migo murmurs. His eyes are genuine and serious, and he means it sincerely when he says, "Achievements or failures. I've seen you work so hard buong college natin, and I'm so proud to see you get here—with me. They're not here to celebrate you today, but I am."

"You're not here," Jiya whispers.

Migo wipes her tears, smiling. "I've seen you work tirelessly on acads and orgs and internships these past four years...and I'm constantly inspired by you," he whispers. His thumb brushes her cheek. "By your dedication and passion and the woman that you are now. I am proud of you, I will continue to be proud of you, and I will support you, comfort you, cheer you on. Gawin mo akong tahanan mo, Valle, and I will make sure you won't ever feel alone or abandoned or neglected again. Pangako."

"Liar," Jiya whispers, hands shaking by her sides. "Support me and cheer me on? Wala ka naman dito." She pushes him. Hard. "Tahanan? Pangako? Putangina mo."

"Jiya?" Migo says, blinking.

"Valle," Jiya corrects, bowing her head, shoulders shaking. "You don't call me Jiya, sabi mo gagawin mo lang 'yon kapag Salas na ako."

She hears his scream in her head.

"Jiya!" She flinches. "Jiya, 'wag mo gawin sa 'kin 'to, please. Don't leave me."

Migo hugs her tight. It's hard to breathe. "Ah," he mutters, stroking her back. "It hurts me to see you like this."

"You made me like this," she whispers in his chest, and iba ang amoy niya, iba ang katawan niya. "I made us like this. I'm so sorry for leaving you, I'm so sorry, please forgive me."

Walang nasabi si Migo.

*

Unbearable.

She hears his laugh everywhere.

When was the last time he laughed?

She can't remember. She's never going to hear it again.

*

Jiya would've hated him if she stayed. She wouldn't have forgiven him. Right?

"Right," she says aloud in her office. It makes it true, because if it's not true, she'll break apart.

And she's had enough of breaking apart.

*

Inggo hasn't brought him up again. The last time was months ago—nearly a year, no'ng sinabi niya na tinatanong ni Migo every day kung masaya siya.

Mau is beside him now. It took months for her to reach out to Jiya, angry because of what she did to her brother, pero she said she can't blame her and that she still loves her like a sister.

Inggo asked about work. Jiya was saying, "...I'm packed with meetings until after the holidays, may pupuntahan pa ako na party bukas—"

"Ate, bumalik ka na dito. Bumalik ka na kay Kuya," Maureen blurts out.

"Rinn!" Inggo hisses, turning to her, jaw tight. "We agreed not to talk about him."

"Ate Jiya, I can see that you're not happy," Maureen continues firmly, ignoring her boyfriend, eyes wild. "I hated you for a while because I thought you were living the life there. I thought you were better than him, I thought you were happy."

"I'm happy with my work," Jiya whispers.

"You look dead," Maureen snaps. "Ano, papayag ka na lang ba that Kuya moves on? Finds happiness with someone else? Have you? Kayo na ba ng Gelo?"

Jiya shuts her eyes.

"Rinn, tama na," Inggo says quietly, circling her wrist with his hand. "It's her decision."

"Her decision is tearing her apart!"

"Migo was going to marry her because of his jealousy," Inggo reminds her, looking at Jiya warily. Her face is blank. "He was making her choose him over her career and dreams, he was giving her an ultimatum."

"He was scared!" Maureen shouts. To him or to her, hindi alam ni Jiya. "He was desperate, he didn't want to be abandoned again—"

"Then he should've trusted her and loved her, not choked her," Inggo snaps, breathing heavily. "They would've torn each other apart if she stayed, maybe even stopped loving him."

Hindi alam ni Jiya. Hindi niya alam. "I'm tired," she whispers when Maureen doesn't say anything more. "I'm sorry, please don't fight. I love you both and thank you. Goodnight."

"Ji," Inggo says before she ends the call. "Ji, I'll come visit you, okay? Love you."

"Ate, I'm sorry," Maureen whispers.

Jiya smiles tightly and hangs up.

*

Three knocks come by the door. "Hey."

Jiya doesn't look up from her computer. "Hi."

Gelo steps inside her office slowly and puts down a second cup of iced coffee on her desk. "How were your holidays?"

He escorted her to the gala last Christmas. When he picked her up, he ran his eyes from her hair to her feet, jaw slacking, and he breathed out, "Wow. You're...you look incredible."

She allowed herself to smile. "Thank you."

Gelo offered his arm, still not taking his eyes off hers. "Shall we?"

It was a busy night. In the middle of dinner, he put on his jacket over her shoulders when he noticed she was cold, but she shrugged it off and shook her head, saying, "I'm fine, thank you." And then Gelo asked her for a dance, and everyone was looking at them so expectantly, and she took his hand with shaking fingers as he led her to the floor. She knew it was unfair to him, but Jiya wished he was taller, his back was broader, his hair was darker, his hand was larger and tighter. Wished Gelo was him.

Jiya couldn't look in his eyes while they swayed, her hands on his shoulders, his hands on her waist, and she kept staring at his collar, her mouth dry, and the last time she danced was during Addie's birthday sa Conrad, when she'd confessed to Migo she was so fucking scared of her love for him, and he said the same, and she'd told him, "I love loving you."

And then he'd dragged her to the bathroom and they had left laughing and smiling and so oblivious to how much that love overtook them both.

"Jiya." Fingers tipped her chin up, and her eyes closed before she could meet his. "You can..." A deep breath. "You can pretend I'm him."

"No," Jiya choked out, squeezing her eyes shut. "That's not fair to you. I'm so sorry, Gelo—"

"I want you to," he murmured, brushing her hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. "And don't apologize. Wala kang kasalanan."

"I keep hurting you. I can't give you what you want, Gelo."

"I know." He took a deep breath. "Baka if it will take time lang."

No, sabi ni Jiya sa utak niya. She will never—she could never love Gelo.

"I can wait more," he said, and Jiya turned her face away. "But if it's not time...then just use me. You can pretend I'm him. You don't have to look at me."

"Sasaktan ko lang sarili ko at ikaw, and I don't want to pus us through that," she snapped, finally meeting his eyes, and oh, God. They were full of pain and longing and want. "What I need is a friend, Gelo. Can we just be that? Please?"

He looked at her for a moment more, and then nodded, forcing a smile on his face. "Yes."

And then Gelo took her home afterwards, walked her to the door, and wished her happy holidays.

In the present, she looks up at him and smiles. "Thank you for the coffee. And they were...fine. Yours?"

Inggo came after Christmas Eve until the holidays were over, and she hugged him for what felt like hours, not realizing how much she missed him. He cooked the meals and forced her to bake cookies with him, and they had a water fight in the kitchen.

Addie, Isco, and Van called her. Magkakasama sila. Tapos Anton and Cas called, too. Sabi nila they were going to get together sa bahay ni Cas and Addie to get drunk...and she didn't need to ask, pero alam niyang kasama si Migo roon.

She looked through their Instagram, hiding her phone from Inggo kasi he didn't approve of her wanting to check on him, pero wala silang story or anything to indicate na magkakasama nga sila.

Baka they hid it from Jiya and Inggo.

She told him, "I'm sorry for breaking our friends apart. No'ng nag-break sina Isco at Van, okay pa naman tayong lahat. Now, I feel like everyone's going through so much hassle to accommodate us both."

Inggo shook his head and countered, "Kaibigan namin kayo both. We love you both. Gano'n lang 'yon, Ji."

Jiya called her parents, too. Hillary had limited time to talk, but she asked how New York was and if she was okay. Her dad asked her more extensively about the job.

They drank hot chocolate on the couch with her head on his shoulder with a blanket draped over them and a crappy Christmas playing on the TV.

"Rinn went home to Pampanga," Inggo said quietly, rubbing her shoulder. "She says she's sorry and that she loves you."

So nasa Pampanga rin si Migo.

"Tell her the same," Jiya whispered.

He took her hand and squeezed it. "I saw the pictures. With Montemayor."

Ah. The gala pictures.

Did Migo see them, too?

Jiya rested her head on his shoulder again, exhausted. "Walang kami."

Inggo paused. "Really?"

Was he asking for Migo? "Kahit anong sabihin ni Migo," Jiya whispered, "hindi ko mamahalin si Gelo. Not now, not ever. Migo never believed me."

"Because it's clear how Montemayor looks at you."

"And ako?" Jiya snapped. "How do I look at him? Nakatingin ba ako sa kanya? If Migo loved me, he would've seen na never akong tumingin kay Gelo. Pero obviously, he never trusted me."

Inggo was quiet for a long while until he said, "No."

"No?"

"No, hindi ka nakatingin kay Montemayor sa pictures," Inggo muttered. "Even while dancing."

Jiya closed her eyes. "Because I kept wishing he was Migo instead. Is he...is he okay?"

'Yon lang ang pwede niyang itanong kay Inggo. She doesn't want to put him in the middle of the two of them by asking if he's as miserable as she is.

She just wants him to be okay.

He merely nodded once, tucked her in bed a few hours later with a kiss to her forehead, and headed to the guest room.

"Fine," Gelo answers with a wary smile. "A couple of us are going to the movies and the arcade after work. Wanna come?"

It's better than being alone in that house. Jiya smiles at him. "Yes."

Gelo keeps his promise to be a friend to her.

Even when she crumbles in her office after seeing Migo post an Instagram story after almost a year.

Repost lang siya from another account. The camera was first pointed to her face, smiling. Naka-white coat din siya. Tapos the camera showed Migo, who was driving his car. He sent a smile and a peace sign to the camera, glancing at her. One hand lang ang nasa steering wheel.

@natbauts: my driver is cute
@migosalas

His smile...was for another girl. Jiya's chest aches.

Her shaking fingers press the account. Natalie Bautista. Resident din. Pretty, curly hair.

She raises the volume to see if Migo said anything. Laughed. She's aching to hear his voice.

Pero wala. No sound.

Gelo finds her staring stupidly at her phone. He pockets it with a sigh and drags her to the cafeteria. "Tara, let's eat."

Gelo keeps her phone for the rest of the day. She's glad, kasi baka paulit-ulit niyang papanoorin 'yong story niya na 'yon, hurting herself over and over kasi hindi para sa kanya ang ngiti ni Migo.

When he gives it back in front of her door, he says, "I deleted the app. Download it na lang 'pag wala na 'yong story. Okay?"

Jiya's thankful. She can't bear it if she watches it one more time. "Yes," she whispers.

Gelo pulls her in for a brief hug, and then pulls back with a smile. "Call me if you need anything."

Jiya nods.

"Go inside."

Numb, she enters the house.

Stares at the space beside her bed. Through her tears, she sees him smiling at her.

*

(Deep in sleep, he tightens his arm around her waist and buries his head in her neck in this too-small bed. He rasps, "Valle..."

Her shampoo smells different and it makes him scrunch his nose, but Migo hugs her tighter. "Baby, time?" he mutters, his voice scratchy, and he doesn't want to get up from this too-small bed and this different shampoo and the stiff legs under his own, but his body is telling him he needs to get up.

Valle doesn't answer him. Maybe she's still asleep, too.

Just as he's sitting up to stare at her and kiss her forehead before he has to shower, the lights turn on and blind him.

Inggo comes in through the door in his coat and scrubs. "Migs—"

"Shh!" Migo's covering his eyes with one hand and the other goes to his mouth to tell him to shut up because Valle's still asleep—and why the fuck did he just barge in their room—dressed? Already?

Inggo stops, staring at him and Valle on the bed.

"Tulog pa," Migo explains in a hushed whisper, rubbing his eyes as he sits up. "Ba't ang aga mo?"

"Nasa on-call room ka, Migs," Inggo says, not even bothering with the volume of his voice. He looks frustrated and tired, angry almost. "At hindi si Valle ang katabi mo."

Migo freezes.

"I was going to sleep sa taas," the voice beside him says quietly, sitting up, and her hair is curly. Valle's hair isn't curly, and it's darker than hers.

She turns around, biting her lip. "I'm sorry, Migo. Hinila mo ako bigla sa kama when I checked up on you and you didn't...you didn't want to let me go. So I just let you sleep."

"Or tumabi ka na lang sa kanya bigla," Inggo bites out, clenching his jaw, staring at Natalie. "At alam mong hindi ka niya paalisin if he thought you were Valle. Kaya ka ba nanahimik, didn't argue whenever he called you that?"

Natalie's cheeks turn pink. Valle doesn't blush. Not easily, anyway. She blushed when he called her sweetheart.

Shit.

"I was trying to be his friend—"

"Or you were taking advantage—"

"Stop," Migo breathes out, running his hands through his face. Fuck. Fucking hell. "Nat, sorry. Kung ginawa ko man 'yon, sorry." He gets up, brushing past her, and picks up his coat, pager, and phone on the table. He puts on his shoes. "I'll see you at the pit."

Inggo follows him down the hall as he shrugs on his coat. "Stay away from her."

Migo can't help his scoff. "'Wag mo 'kong inuutusan."

Kamusta siya? Is she okay? How did she look? Is she healthy? Thinner? Did she eat a lot? How were her holidays?

His best friend lets out a frustrated sigh. "Pare, she wants you. She's hiding it through the guise of being there for you while you get over your ex. She's hoping you fall in love with her or some shit by being your shoulder to lean on." Inggo rolls his eyes, jaw tight.

Sila na ba ni putanginang Montemayor? Inaalagaan ba siya ng gago? Mahal niya ba si gago? Nakita ko pictures nila.

"Not gonna happen," Migo answers shortly, pressing the button on the elevator.

"You were in bed together."

"By mistake," Migo hisses.

"And so if you happen to kiss her while you're drunk, thinking na siya si Jiya, would that be a mistake, too?"

Malapit na niya gawin last weekend. Hinila lang siya ni Inggo.

"Yes," he bites out and steps inside the elevator. "This is what Valle did to me."

Ripped out his heart and crushed it with her bare hands. Left him hallucinating, living like a fucking ghost.

"This is what you did to yourself and to her rin," Inggo counters, ever the middleman, as he steps in beside him. "Don't just blame her for leaving, Migo. Think about why she had to leave in the first place."

Migo stares at him.

Is she happy?

He swallows thickly and asks, "Is she okay?"

"Yes." 'Yon naman palagi ang sagot ni Inggo.

He clenches his hands into fists. "Is she happy?"

Inggo pauses.

Migo looks at the side of his face. "De Paz."

His best friend meets his eyes, and he swallows the lump in his throat before he answers, "I don't know."

He doesn't know why he expected a different answer this time, but he's glad it's not. Different, that is.

He doesn't know how he'd take it if he heard no. Or yes.

Migo steps out into the ER and ignores Natalie and Inggo the rest of his on-call shift.

He goes back to the condo in the morning and reaches for the empty space in the too-small bed.

Cries. Thinks why he wasn't enough and if she's happy without him, like he does every day since she left him.)