SHANAIA ISABELLEThe aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, blending with the soft hum of conversations inside the café. Around us, people continued with their own lives—laughing, chatting, typing on their laptops—as if nothing significant was happening.But at our table... It felt as though time itself had stopped. I couldn't even remember how long we had been sitting there.One minute. Five. Or maybe longer.Neither of us spoke. Neither of us looked away. We simply stared at each other, silently waiting for someone to break the suffocating silence between us.In the end... Ako rin ang unang sumuko."Hindi ka ba magsasalita?" mahinahon kong tanong.Bahagyang tumaas ang isang sulok ng labi niya, ngunit walang init ang ngiting iyon. "Ikaw ang nag-ayang makipagkita," malamig niyang tugon. "Tapos aasahan mong ako ang unang magsasalita?" His voice... It was calm. Too calm. And somehow, that hurt more than if he had shouted at me. "Ikaw ang may gustong sabihin, hindi ba?" dugt
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