Nineteen

Gabby’s POV

“I’m sorry…”

When he said those words, the pain only cut deeper.

Sorry for what, exactly?

Because he can’t like me back?

Am I really that hard to like?

What did you expect, Gabbriel Lane?

You’re the only one who feels this way. Just tattoo that in your mind—you’re the only one who cares like this.

One-sided feelings. Remember?

I know that. I haven’t forgotten that I’m the only one holding on to this.

And I’m not numb. I can feel every bit of the pain

Everything happened too fast, and now it’s all a mess.

It’s only now that I’ve truly confirmed it—

only now that I’ve realized what I really feel.

And only now that I’ve learned… he doesn’t feel the same.If he ever does, it’s probably as fleeting as a wild weed—something that grows without care, and dies just as easily. Damn it.

I didn’t respond to what he said and just walked straight to his car.

I saw him follow, looking defeated.

Why does he look defeated?

I’m the one who’s losing my mind here! Does he even have the right to look sad? I wanted to cry so badly.

But no. No way in hell.

I won’t let him see that I’ve fallen first—that I’ve already fallen in love with him.

Damn! Why do girls fall in love so fast?

And why did God have to give us hearts as soft as sponge cake?

Why not stone ones instead—something that can actually survive this kind of pain?

So now… even though I know I’m weak,even though my heart’s all soft and fragile,

I have to be cold. Or try to pretend to be.

“I’ll take you back to Manila,” he offered.

I kept my eyes on the car window so he wouldn’t see my reaction.

But when I heard his voice—soft, gentle, almost careful—I couldn’t help but close my eyes.

“I-I’ll go with Kesha,” I said, trying so hard to sound cold.

But my voice still trembled.

“I’ll drive both of you,” he said again, in that same quiet, tender tone.

Damn it! His voice alone drains all my strength.I cleared my throat. “I have my car with me.”

This time, my voice was full of refusal—firm, cold, final.

He didn’t argue after that.The whole ride back to the hotel was silent.

When I was about to enter the hotel lobby, He reached out and held my hand. He squeezed it gently. Rei was behind me, but I still felt that spark—that electric pull between us.

Only this time, it didn’t feel like butterflies. It felt like I got grounded—and before I could lose more of myself,

I pulled my hand away.

“Thanks… and goodbye.”

The moment those words left my lips, I knew they carried more weight than they seemed.

Thanks for everything he made me feel.

And goodbye—for everything I have to let go of.

When I returned to the hotel, Kesha was already in my room. She kept asking questions, trying to get something out of me, but I didn’t have the strength to explain. I just told her I was fine—that there was nothing wrong and she shouldn’t mind me.

By the time we were on the road, she had gone silent too. Maybe she sensed that no amount of talking could fix whatever was broken inside me. I was driving, and it was already late. The road was dark, quiet—almost empty.

And in that silence, memories began to flood my head.

The image of me and Rei kissing.

Me and Rei hugging.

Me and Rei laughing.

That date—we both knew how romantic it was. We were genuinely happy.

We joked around.

We talked like we understood each other perfectly.

We laughed until our stomachs hurt.

We smiled like the world was ours.

And sometimes, we just looked at each other… saying nothing but feeling everything.

I smiled bitterly at the memory.

It was perfect—until it wasn’t.

Somewhere in between those smiles and silences, I ruined it.

Part of me blames myself. If only I hadn’t needed answers. If only I hadn’t been so confused. If only I hadn’t realized—too late—that I loved him.

Maybe then, we’d still be happy tomorrow. Maybe we’d still have more days together.

But I broke it.

I ended it.

Did I bring this disaster upon myself?

No.

It’s not wrong to want clarity.

It’s not wrong to wonder if what you’re feeling is real—or if the other person feels it too.

SCRREEECH!

The sound of the tires sliced through the silence.

“Gabby? What’s wrong? Why did you stop?” Kesha’s voice shook slightly.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter. Because it isn’t wrong to love someone… And it isn’t wrong to hope they’ll love you back.

But maybe—maybe it’s wrong to keep driving toward someone who was never meant to stay.

Isn’t it?

I lowered my head against the steering wheel.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

I’d been keeping it in for so long—pretending I was fine, forcing myself to feel nothing.

But I just couldn’t do it anymore.

He doesn’t feel anything for me.

Nothing at all.

My tears started to fall—one after another, endlessly.

Kesha was already worried, but I couldn’t stop myself anymore.

It hurts.

It hurts so much.

I really love him. From the very beginning.

Why did I only realize it now?