Going To Meet The Man

I was touching myself in front of the teddy bear on my bed, because I knew a man was watching behind its eyes. He had sneaked into my home, lay on the bed where I slept, and left traces of himself on my clothes. When I noticed, he watched as I hid in a corner, trembling… not knowing that I had been waiting for him for a long time.

Living with my aunt and her family was meant to be a temporary, quiet arrangement just helping out and keeping to myself. On the first day of the new year, while everyone else was out celebrating, I stayed home, enjoying the rare silence and catching up on sleep. But when we ran out of water, I reluctantly stepped outside to fetch some, and that’s when I saw him. He stood by the gate of the house next door, effortlessly commanding attention with just a glance. A smirk played on his lips, and a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes behind his blue-ray glasses. At that moment, he was impossible to ignore. Meanwhile, I felt disheveled and barely awake, my hair was a mess and still shaking off sleep. But he didn’t seem to mind. There was something about him an air of mystery that made me wonder who he was and why he was there. Before I could look away, he spoke, “Hi.” Caught off guard, I managed a quick, “Hi,” while trying to pull myself together. “Can I know your name?” he asked. I hesitated but replied, “I’m Clara,” and kept walking. “Can I have your number?” he called after me. “Just as friends.” I almost refused but reluctantly agreed, entering my number into his phone. “There,” I said, handing it back. “I’ll call you,” he promised with a smile, as I turned to leave. What began as a chance encounter soon became an inexplicable connection. He had secrets, but there was something about him that saw through me, understanding things no one else did. The man I met next door wasn’t just a fleeting stranger,he became the reason I started questioning everything I thought I wanted.

Attorney Yna Reyes has built her life on discipline, logic, and control. Shaped by loss at a young age, she learned to survive without relying on anyone, becoming a respected lawyer and prosecutor who keeps her heart carefully guarded. Love, to her, is a distraction something fragile she cannot afford. Everything changes after a chance collision with Gabriel Valesquez. What begins as an unexpected encounter slowly turns into something deeper, quieter, and far more dangerous than either of them anticipated. Gabriel does not pursue Yna with grand gestures or pressure. Instead, he offers patience, honesty, and a presence that challenges the walls she has spent years building. As Yna navigates demanding cases, long nights at the firm, and the protective concern of her closest friends, she finds herself drawn into a connection she never planned to want. Meanwhile, Gabriel carries a past he has never fully confronted one that threatens to resurface just as Yna begins to open her heart. Between ambition and vulnerability, silence and longing, The Man I Should’ve Never Met is a slow burn romance about healing, restraint, and the courage it takes to choose love after learning how to survive alone.

Today was like the day I met him: Me, riding a bicycle and him, walking down the pavement. I grab the handle of the bicycle and watch him as he make his way towards me. I do not know why I feel nervous. A trickle of sweat drip on the side of my face, my heart beat fast and I could hardly breathe. He was meters away, until it grow shorter to a foot and then bam, he bumped into me and we fall down, him on top of me. This felt like a deja vù, like it was our very first encounter. We scurried to get up but ended up bumping our heads together. I glared at him as he got up, He didn't even offer me a hand. He didn’t even give me a second glance. He just passed by me. Not noticing me. Not even looking at me. I let go of the bicycle and turn to face him. I remove the helmet that I was wearing and grip it tightly before screaming, “YAH! My hands curled into a fist and before I know it, the helmet I was holding was already flying towards him.I raise my hand as if to save him but it collided on his head right before I could even react. It sounded a hollow thump and a pronounced groan. His hands made his way to the back of his head as he turn and face me. With those eyes that seem like it was murdering me, he chase me off and I hastily took my bicycle and ran. I couldn’t help but feel happy instead of guilty as he ran after me. This was like before. This was like that summer, that summer I met him.

Talking to a stranger can really be scary. I know that and I'm also aware of the consequence of doing that. But, I felt like its different than the stories that I heard. There's no fear or uncertainty while I am being lulled to comfort by someone.

I have a secret. When I touch someone, I see the face of the person they love most. Since Natalie moved in next door when we were seven, I always saw myself in her heart. At eighteen, when she held my hand—it was me. At twenty-two, when she proposed—it was me. On our wedding night, when she kissed me—it was still me. On the morning of our third anniversary, I fixed the hem of her dress. My fingers grazed her ankle. Out of habit, I closed my eyes. This time, I saw two faces. Mine. And some guy I'd never seen before. That night, Natalie's phone lit up. [Thanks for spending today with me, Natalie.] Twenty-one years. A hundred thousand touches. And for the first time, I was wrong.