Chapter 4: ‎A Quiet Kind of Happiness

‎I woke up the next morning with a strange feeling in my chest. It wasn't fear. It wasn't anxiety. It wasn't the familiar heaviness that used to greet me every time I opened my eyes in the morning.

‎

‎It was something lighter.

‎Something almost unfamiliar.

‎

‎Happiness.

‎

‎I stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, trying to understand why I was smiling.

‎

‎Then I remembered.

‎

‎'Mangoes.'

‎

‎I covered my face with my pillow.

‎

‎"Oh my God."

‎

‎I couldn't believe I was smiling because of a man who had given me a mango and spent half the morning annoying me.

‎

‎This was ridiculous.

‎

‎I was twenty-nine years old. I had been married. I had experienced things that should have made me wiser about men. And yet here I was, lying in a tiny rented room and smiling because a twenty-seven-year-old farmer had told me he'd see me tomorrow.

‎I sat up and shook my head.

‎

‎"No." I pointed at myself in the mirror. "You're not doing this, Aurelia."

‎

‎The woman staring back at me looked unconvinced.

‎

‎I got dressed and went outside before I could embarrass myself any further.

‎

‎The morning air was cool, and the fields were covered in a thin layer of mist. I walked toward the market, hoping the fresh air would clear my head. It didn't, because the moment I reached the end of the road, I saw him.

‎Zayn was standing beside his motorcycle, talking to an older man. He was wearing a plain white shirt today, paired with worn jeans and boots. His hair was slightly messy, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows.

‎I immediately looked away.

‎

‎Don't stare.

‎

‎I took another step.

‎

‎Then another.

‎

‎"Good morning, Noona."

‎

‎I stopped.

‎

‎Of course.

‎

‎I turned around.

‎

‎"Good morning."

‎

‎He smiled.

‎

‎"You look happy."

‎

‎"I'm always happy."

‎

‎He raised an eyebrow.

‎

‎"Really?"

‎

‎"Yes."

‎

‎"Then why did you look like you wanted to murder someone yesterday?"

‎

‎"I didn't."

‎

‎"You did."

‎

‎"I was just annoyed."

‎

‎"At me?"

‎

‎"Mostly."

‎

‎He laughed.

‎

‎I tried not to smile.

‎

‎Failed.

‎

‎Again.

‎

‎"See?" he said.

‎

‎"What?"

‎

‎"You smiled."

‎

‎I sighed.

‎

‎"You really pay too much attention."

‎

‎"I told you. I notice things."

‎

‎He walked toward me.

‎

‎"What are you doing today?"

‎

‎"Going to the market."

‎

‎"Again?"

‎

‎"I need groceries."

‎

‎"You need help carrying them?"

‎

‎"No."

‎

‎"Are you sure?"

‎

‎"Yes."

‎

‎"Okay."

‎

‎He stood there.

‎

‎I looked at him.

‎

‎He looked at me.

‎

‎"Why are you still here?"

‎

‎He shrugged.

‎

‎"I don't know."

‎

‎I narrowed my eyes.

‎

‎"You were waiting for me, weren't you?"

‎

‎His lips curved into a smile.

‎

‎"Maybe."

‎

‎My heart did that annoying little flutter again.

‎

‎I looked away.

‎

‎"You're ridiculous."

‎

‎"I've heard that before."

‎

‎"You really don't get tired of saying that, do you?"

‎

‎"Nope."

‎

‎He walked beside me. This time, I didn't tell him to leave.

‎The market was busier than usual. People were moving around everywhere, carrying baskets and bags while vendors shouted prices from every direction. I wasn't used to this kind of place. Back home, groceries were usually delivered to the mansion.

‎Everything was ordered.

‎

‎Everything was convenient.

‎

‎Everything was controlled.

‎

‎Here, I had to choose my own vegetables, bargain over prices, and carry everything myself. And strangely enough, I liked it.

‎"How much are these?" I asked the vendor.

‎

‎"Fifty."

‎

‎I frowned.

‎

‎"Forty?"

‎

‎"Forty-five."

‎

‎"Forty."

‎

‎The vendor laughed.

‎

‎"Fine."

‎

‎I smiled proudly.

‎

‎Zayn, who was standing beside me, shook his head.

‎

‎"You really negotiated over five pesos."

‎

‎"Of course."

‎

‎"You looked serious."

‎

‎"I was serious."

‎

‎He laughed.

‎

‎"You really are something."

‎

‎"What does that mean?"

‎

‎"I don't know yet."

‎

‎I gave him a suspicious look.

‎

‎"You're weird."

‎

‎"You're repeating yourself."

‎

‎"Because you keep proving me right."

‎

‎We continued walking. At one stall, Zayn picked up a tomato.

‎"This one's good."

‎

‎I looked at him.

‎

‎"How do you know?"

‎

‎"I grew it."

‎

‎I blinked.

‎

‎"You grew these?"

‎

‎"Some of them."

‎

‎I looked at the tomatoes again.

‎

‎"You grow everything?"

‎

‎"Not everything."

‎

‎"What do you grow?"

‎

‎"Rice, vegetables, fruits. We also have chickens, pigs, and a few cows."

‎

‎I stared at him.

‎

‎"You're actually a farmer."

‎

‎He laughed.

‎

‎"What did you think I was?"

‎

‎"I don't know."

‎

‎"You thought I was just handsome?"

‎

‎I nearly dropped the bag I was holding.

‎

‎"What?"

‎

‎He grinned. "You heard me."

‎"I did not say that."

‎

‎"You didn't have to."

‎

‎I rolled my eyes.

‎

‎"You're so full of yourself."

‎

‎"I'm not wrong."

‎

‎"You're definitely wrong."

‎

‎He leaned closer.

‎

‎"Then why are you blushing?"

‎

‎I immediately turned away.

‎

‎"I'm not."

‎

‎"You are."

‎

‎"It's hot."

‎

‎"It's eight in the morning."

‎

‎"I get hot easily."

‎

‎He laughed.

‎

‎I wanted to disappear.

‎

‎I couldn't believe he was enjoying this.

‎

‎"You know," I said, "you're much more annoying than I remembered."

‎

‎"We've only known each other for five days."

‎

‎"Exactly."

‎

‎He smiled.

‎

‎"I like talking to you."

‎

‎That stopped me.

‎

‎For a moment, neither of us said anything. I looked at him. His expression had changed. There was no teasing now, he was simply looking at me. And there was something so sincere about it that I didn't know what to do.

‎I looked away first.

‎

‎"Let's go."

‎

‎He smiled softly.

‎

‎"Okay."

‎

‎When we finished shopping, Zayn carried most of the bags despite my protests.

‎

‎"I can carry those."

‎

‎"I know."

‎

‎"Then give them back."

‎

‎"No."

‎

‎"Why?"

‎

‎"Because I want to."

‎

‎I sighed.

‎

‎"You really don't listen."

‎

‎"I listen."

‎

‎"Clearly not."

‎

‎He looked at me.

‎

‎"I listen when it matters."

‎

‎Something about that answer stayed with me. Maybe because I knew what it was like to have someone who never listened.

‎Logan used to decide everything. Where I went, what I wore, who I talked to, even what I was allowed to say.

‎He called it love. He called it protection. But it never felt like either. It felt like ownership.

‎I didn't realize I had stopped walking until Zayn looked back.

‎

‎"Aurelia?"

‎

‎I blinked.

‎

‎"Sorry."

‎

‎He studied my face.

‎

‎"You okay?"

‎

‎I nodded.

‎

‎"Yeah."

‎

‎He didn't believe me, but he didn't push. Instead, he simply waited. That small gesture somehow meant more than he could ever know.

‎"I'm fine," I said again.

‎

‎He nodded. "Okay."

‎Then he started walking again.

‎

‎No questions, no pressure, just patience.

‎

‎I followed him.

‎

‎We reached the road near the farm.

‎

‎Zayn stopped beside a wooden fence.

‎

‎"This is where I turn."

‎

‎I looked ahead.

‎

‎"I thought your house was ten minutes away."

‎

‎"It is."

‎

‎"Then why are you stopping here?"

‎

‎"Because I need to go this way."

‎

‎"Oh."

‎

‎I suddenly felt disappointed.

‎

‎I didn't understand why. We had only spent a few hours together, but the thought of going back to my room alone made the morning feel strangely shorter.

‎

‎Zayn looked at me.

‎

‎"You want to see the farm?"

‎

‎I hesitated.

‎

‎"Can I?"

‎

‎"Of course."

‎

‎He opened the gate.

‎

‎I followed him inside.

‎

‎The farm was bigger than I expected. There were rows of crops stretching across the land, a small wooden house in the distance, and several animals wandering around.

‎I smiled.

‎

‎"This is beautiful."

‎

‎Zayn looked at me instead of the fields.

‎

‎"I'm glad you like it."

‎

‎I turned toward him.

‎

‎He immediately looked away.

‎

‎I pretended not to notice.

‎

‎He showed me around, explaining which crops they planted during different seasons and how they took care of the animals.

‎

‎I listened carefully.

‎

‎There was something different about him when he talked about farming. He wasn't just doing it because it was his family's livelihood, he genuinely loved it.

‎

‎"You like this," I said.

‎

‎He nodded.

‎

‎"Yeah."

‎

‎"Why?"

‎

‎He looked at the field.

‎

‎"I grew up here. My parents worked hard to keep this place alive. Lola Cora always told me that land remembers the people who take care of it."

‎

‎I smiled. "That's beautiful."

‎He shrugged.

‎

‎"Maybe."

‎

‎"It is."

‎

‎He looked at me.

‎

‎"What about you?"

‎

‎"What about me?"

‎

‎"What do you love?"

‎

‎I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. The question shouldn't have been difficult, but it was.

‎

‎Before Logan, I had so many answers.

‎

‎I loved reading, I loved painting, I loved sitting by the ocean, I loved music, I loved baking with my siblings. Somewhere along the way, I stopped doing all of those things.

‎"I don't know anymore," I admitted.

‎

‎Zayn's expression softened.

‎

‎"That's okay."

‎

‎"Is it?"

‎

‎"Yeah."

‎

‎"Why?"

‎

‎"Because you can figure it out again."

‎

‎I looked at him.

‎

‎He smiled.

‎

‎"You have time."

‎

‎I didn't know why those three words almost made me cry.

‎

‎'You have time.'

‎

‎Nobody had ever said that to me.

‎

‎With Logan, everything had always been immediate.

‎

‎Do this.

‎

‎Come here.

‎

‎Answer me.

‎Don't argue.

‎

‎Don't leave.

‎

‎There was never time to simply exist, but here, standing beside Zayn in the middle of a field, I suddenly felt like I had all the time in the world.

‎

‎I took a slow breath.

‎

‎"Maybe I'll figure it out."

‎

‎"You will."

‎

‎"You're very confident."

‎

‎"I am."

‎

‎I laughed.

‎

‎"Why?"

‎

‎He smiled.

‎

‎"Because you're here."

‎

‎I looked at him.

‎

‎My heart skipped again.

‎

‎This time, I couldn't pretend I hadn't felt it.

‎We were about to leave when a young woman approached us.

‎

‎She was carrying a basket and immediately smiled when she saw Zayn.

‎

‎"Zayn!"

‎

‎He turned. ‎"Oh, Mia."

‎

‎She looked at me.

‎

‎Then back at him.

‎

‎Her smile became curious.

‎

‎"Who's she?"

‎

‎I opened my mouth, before I could answer, Zayn casually said, "This is Aurelia."

‎Mia's eyes widened.

‎

‎"The new girl?"

‎

‎I blinked. ‎"The new girl?"

‎

‎She laughed.

‎

‎"Everyone knows about you."

‎

‎I felt my cheeks heat. "Really?"

‎"Of course. You're the mysterious woman who suddenly rented Aling Rosa's room."

‎

‎I looked at Zayn.

‎

‎He was trying not to laugh.

‎

‎"You told people about me?"

‎

‎"No."

‎

‎Mia immediately interrupted.

‎

‎"He didn't have to. You know how people are here."

‎

‎I sighed.

‎

‎Great! So the entire village knew I existed.

‎

‎Mia smiled at me. "Nice to meet you."

‎"Nice to meet you too."

‎

‎She glanced at Zayn.

‎

‎Then at me.

‎

‎Then back at Zayn.

‎

‎I knew that look.

‎

‎I had seen it before.

‎

‎She was teasing him.

‎

‎"Anyway," she said, "Lola Cora told me to remind you that you're expected for dinner."

‎

‎Zayn nodded.

‎

‎"Okay."

‎

‎Mia looked at me again.

‎

‎"And you're coming too."

‎

‎I blinked.

‎

‎"Me?"

‎

‎"Yes."

‎

‎I looked at Zayn.

‎He smiled.

‎

‎"Come."

‎

‎"I don't want to impose."

‎

‎"You won't."

‎

‎"But—"

‎

‎"Noona."

‎

‎I sighed.

‎

‎"Fine."

‎

‎He smiled.

‎

‎"Good."

‎

‎Mia walked away, but not before giving Zayn a knowing look.

‎

‎I waited until she was gone.

‎

‎"Does everyone here tease you?"

‎

‎"Pretty much."

‎

‎"Why?"

‎

‎He shrugged.

‎

‎"Because I'm apparently the only single man in the village."

‎

‎I raised an eyebrow.

‎

‎"You're single?"

‎

‎"Yes."

‎

‎"Why?"

‎

‎He looked genuinely confused.

‎

‎"Why wouldn't I be?"

‎

‎"You're twenty-seven."

‎

‎"So?"

‎

‎"You've never had a girlfriend?"

‎

‎"No."

‎

‎I stared at him.

‎

‎"You're lying."

‎

‎"I'm not."

‎

‎"Not even once?"

‎

‎"No."

‎

‎"Why?"

‎

‎He thought for a moment.

‎

‎"Maybe I was waiting."

‎

‎"For what?"

‎

‎His eyes met mine.

‎

‎"For the right person."

‎

‎My heart went completely still.

‎

‎He didn't smile this time. Neither did I. The wind moved softly through the fields around us. And suddenly, the entire world seemed quieter.

‎I didn't know what to say, so I looked away.

‎

‎"Come on," I whispered.

‎

‎"Where?"

‎

‎"Dinner."

‎

‎He smiled.

‎

‎"Okay, Noona."

‎

‎I shook my head, but I was smiling. And as we walked toward his family's house together, I realized something that frightened me more than I wanted to admit.

‎I wasn't simply enjoying Zayn's company anymore. I was beginning to look for him, beginning to wait for him, beginning to wonder what tomorrow would feel like if he wasn't there. And I knew better than anyone that getting attached was dangerous, but for the first time in years... I wanted to take the risk.