Chapter 37 – The Space Between
The third week apart was the hardest.
Andrea had fallen into a rhythm—classes, sketching, calling Sheik at night—but sometimes, the silence in between calls felt louder than it should. Manila was vibrant, full of color and chaos, but inside, she felt off-balance.
One Friday afternoon, while walking through campus, her classmate Paolo caught up to her.
"You looked like your brain was stuck in a loading screen," he said with a grin, jogging to keep pace.
Andrea chuckled. "I think I left my brain back in Naga."
"You've been kind of... distant," he said gently. "Everything okay?"
She hesitated. "Yeah. Just… adjusting."
They walked in silence for a while. Paolo was nice. Funny. He always had paint on his hands and way too much energy, but today, he was quiet. He looked at her like he saw her.
Not like Sheik. But still.
"You know," he said suddenly, "there's a student gallery opening tonight. Some of your work's in it. I thought… maybe you'd want to go with someone who'll hype you up."
Andrea blinked. "You mean—like a date?"
"No," Paolo said quickly. "Just… someone who thinks you're insanely talented."
She smiled, appreciating the honesty. "I'll think about it."
Back in her dorm later, she stared at her phone for a long time. Sheik hadn't messaged yet. Probably at practice. Probably too tired.
He trusts me, she thought. I trust him.
Still, something inside twisted.
Meanwhile, across the sea, Sheik was having his own moment.
After a long, grueling day of practice, he sat alone on the field, pouring sweat. His teammates had gone ahead, but he lingered, phone in hand, debating whether or not to call.
He missed Andrea.
But today, he hadn't played well. Coach had yelled. His ankle throbbed. Everything felt harder than it should.
He scrolled through his gallery, stopping on a photo of Andrea and Mochi. Her eyes were soft. Full of light. Like home.
He clicked record on a voice message:
"Hey. I had a crap day. Just… one of those days where I feel small. But thinking about you made it easier. I hope your art show thing went well. I wish I could've been there. I miss you."
Andrea listened to the message in her dorm, right before she was about to leave for the gallery. She didn't respond immediately. She just sat down, held her phone to her chest, and exhaled.
She texted Paolo:
"Thanks for the invite. I'm gonna go alone tonight. Hope that's okay."
Then she typed back to Sheik:
"You were with me, even if you weren't here. Your message was everything. I miss you too."
And that was how they held each other that night — not in person, not with touch, but with words. With choice.
Even when loneliness whispered, they chose to stay.
Even when space grew wide, they reached across it.
Because sometimes, love isn't loud.It's the quiet decision to keep believing in each other—over and over again.