Chapter 5

The next morning, the usually immaculate Kaella Ponce overslept. Her alarm had betrayed her—apparently muted when she’d hit snooze one too many times. When she finally rushed out of bed, her hair was a frizzed-out mess, and her blouse had a wrinkle shaped suspiciously like the hanger it had clung to overnight.

“Perfect,” she muttered, juggling her bag, laptop, and a piece of toast between her teeth as she locked the apartment door. “The day after Jerome’s big hero moment, ako naman ang late.”

By the time she arrived at Roque Snacks, the sales floor was already alive with chatter. Jerome, of course, was there early—wearing a crisp white shirt, perfectly pressed slacks, and an annoyingly charming smile.

“Morning, mentor,” he called out as she hurried past. “Late ka today, ah.”

Kaella shot him a glare sharp enough to slice through spreadsheets. “Don’t start.”

He grinned. “Don’t worry, covered for you. Told Trina na traffic ka daw.”

She froze mid-step, surprised. “You… what?”

“Relax. Hindi ko sinabi na nag-oversleep ka.” His eyes danced with mischief. “Yet.”

Kaella groaned, tossing her bag onto her desk. Great. He’s not just clever—he’s also observant. Dangerous combination.

By mid-morning, after an intense call with J&L Mart’s procurement officer, Kaella finally had a moment to breathe. She slipped into the break room for tea and found Jerome already there, half-bent over the counter trying to reach the top shelf.

“You’re tall,” she remarked without thinking, watching him stretch.

“Thanks,” he said casually, grabbing the sugar tin. “But I like hearing it from you.”

Kaella rolled her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Too late,” he teased.

As Jerome stirred his coffee, he caught her staring—not at him, but at the small cactus plant in the corner of the break room. Its once-perky spikes drooped slightly.

“You like plants?” Jerome asked.

Kaella blinked, startled. “What? Oh—yeah. That one’s mine. I bring it home on weekends sometimes, para lang hindi mamatay.”

“That’s… unexpectedly sweet.” He grinned. “Strict Kaella, plantita ka pala.”

“Don’t call me strict.” She turned to leave but couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at her lips.

The day wore on, the office a blur of client calls and endless reports. After lunch, Kaella retreated to the archives room to find an old sales ledger. It was quiet, the hum of the air conditioner filling the space. As she crouched to reach a bottom shelf, her phone buzzed—a message from her younger brother:

Dion: Ate, thanks sa tuition payment. Promise, babawi ako.

She smiled softly, replying with a simple heart emoji. Few at Roque Snacks knew she’d been supporting her brother through college since their parents passed. She never complained, never asked for help. To her, loyalty and responsibility were second nature—non-negotiables in her world.

Unbeknownst to her, Jerome had wandered into the archives room, looking for printer paper. He paused at the doorway when he saw her—kneeling on the floor, brows furrowed in concentration, a faint tenderness on her face as she stared at her phone.

“Hey,” he said gently, not wanting to startle her. “Looking for treasure?”

Kaella jumped slightly. “Jerome! Don’t sneak up on people.”

He held up his hands. “Sorry. Need paper. But… you looked… different.”

She frowned. “Different how?”

“Less scary,” he teased, but his voice was softer than usual. “More… human.”

She snorted. “Wow. Thanks, I guess.”

Jerome leaned against the shelf, watching her. “You’re always so put-together, Kaella. Parang you’ve got everything under control. But just now… parang may ibang side ka.”

Kaella shoved the ledger back onto the shelf, feeling strangely exposed. “Don’t read into it.”

But Jerome wasn’t fooled. He tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Who were you texting?”

“My brother,” she admitted after a beat. “He’s in college. I’m… helping him out.”

Jerome’s teasing grin softened into something else entirely—admiration. “That’s amazing. You’re amazing.”

She blinked, caught off-guard. Compliments from coworkers didn’t usually fluster her, but Jerome’s sincerity made her throat tighten.

Before she could reply, her phone rang—Trina, summoning her back to the sales floor. She excused herself quickly, leaving Jerome in the archives, staring after her.

That evening, after everyone had clocked out, Kaella stayed late to finish a quarterly report. The office was hushed except for the faint patter of rain outside. She stretched in her chair, the neon lights casting a soft glow over the cubicles.

She reached into her drawer and pulled out an old, slightly bent photograph—her and Dion as kids, grinning at the camera with chocolate-smeared faces. She traced the edges of the photo absently, a wistful smile on her lips.

“You really do have a soft side,” a voice said behind her.

Kaella yelped, spinning in her chair to see Jerome standing there, holding two paper cups of coffee.

“Jerome!” she hissed. “Do you ever knock?”

“On cubicles?” he teased. “Not really.”

He handed her a cup. “Black, no sugar. Like your personality.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Funny.”

“Seriously,” he said, leaning against her desk. “You stay late, you take care of everyone, even the cactus. You’re… different than I thought.”

“Don’t get sentimental,” she warned, though her cheeks warmed.

Jerome’s eyes glimmered under the fluorescent light. “Too late again.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them—charged but comfortable. The rain outside intensified, a steady rhythm against the glass windows. Kaella glanced toward the clock. “You should go. Malakas na ’yong ulan.”

Jerome shrugged. “Eh di sabay na tayo. May payong ako.”

They packed their things and stepped out into the downpour. Jerome’s umbrella was the same tiny one from yesterday—forcing them close again. The city lights blurred through the sheets of rain, casting everything in a hazy glow.

“You always prepared with the umbrella,” Kaella said, trying to distract herself from the way his shoulder brushed hers.

“Family motto,” Jerome replied with a grin. “Always be ready.”

As they neared the parking lot, lightning streaked across the sky, startling Kaella. Without thinking, she gripped Jerome’s arm. He glanced down at her hand and then at her face, his expression softening.

“Relax,” he said gently. “I got you.”

Kaella quickly let go, embarrassed. “Sorry. I just… hate thunder.”

“It’s okay,” Jerome murmured, but the warmth in his voice lingered long after.

When they reached her car, she fumbled with her keys, aware of his gaze.

“Thanks for the coffee,” she said.

“Thanks for… letting me in,” he replied quietly.

She frowned. “Letting you in?”

“To see a part of you most people don’t.”

Before she could respond, a car horn blared from across the lot, breaking the moment. Kaella looked away, and when she glanced back, Jerome was already walking toward his own vehicle.

She slid into her seat, heart still unsteady.

Inside her bag, her phone buzzed—a new message from the unknown number that had texted her yesterday:

“Look closer. His secrets will change everything.”

Kaella swallowed hard, the rain drumming on her windshield. She glanced toward Jerome’s retreating figure—silhouetted against the storm.