It had been three days since the visitor's room.
Three days since she stood in her pressed white uniform, feet steady, heart collapsing, while Frooze or Ceath, whoever that motherfucker is, sat across the room and called someone else his girlfriend.
Tomorrow, they would be going home.
Babalik na sila ng Pangasinan.
Her classmates were outside the dorm, scattered across hallways, rooms, and common areas, enjoying their last night in Manila. Laughter echoed faintly from down the corridor—some were playing cards, others watching a movie on a laptop.
But Kate?
She was alone.
Her roommates were out, bonding with other friends from different groups. Riz, her constant, was still in the other wing packing her bags. She said she'd come back later—but for now, Kate had the entire room to herself.
And maybe that was the problem.
She stared at the ceiling like it held answers, but all it gave her was the familiar feeling of emptiness.
The silence tonight wasn't like the other nights.
It was dense.
Suffocating.
Loud, in a way that silence shouldn't be.
Three days of pretending it didn't matter.
Three days of carrying it around in her chest like a ticking bomb—smiling through case reports, laughing during rounds, keeping her posture straight while her insides felt like crumpled paper.
But now?
Now she was unraveling.
The moment she lay down and let her thoughts settle, everything she had buried came clawing back to the surface.
She sat up slowly, her blanket falling from her shoulders.
Her hand reached for her phone before her brain could stop her.
She stared at his name on the screen.
Froozie <3
Still saved that way.
Still right there.
Untouched.
Unchanged.
Even when everything else had.
Maybe a part of her didn't change it because she hoped someday… she'd be able to again. That he'd come back. That it would mean something again.
Her thumb hovered above the call button, hesitating.
She told herself she was over this.
That she was done giving him space in her head.
But she wasn't.
She was lying. To herself. To Riz. To the people who asked if she was okay.
She was not okay.
Not tonight.
She hit Call.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then—
"Hello?"
His voice.
Still low.
Still familiar.
Still the kind of voice that made her breath catch even when she didn't want it to.
He sounded groggy. Like she woke him.
She stared at the ceiling again, eyes brimming.
"Ceath…" she whispered.
There was silence.
A long, fragile silence that stretched across the phone line like a held breath.
Then she spoke again, her voice trembling but soft. "I kept on saying na… okay lang. Okay lang. At least he found someone. Maybe sa kaniya mo nahanap yung peace na hinahanap mo."
Her fingers clenched the blanket, twisting it tightly.
She laughed—but it sounded more like a sob caught in her throat.
"But no. Hindi. Hindi okay. Hindi pala okay."
Her voice rose, laced with pain.
"Gusto kong magalit sayo. O baka galit lang ako sa sarili ko kasi minahal kita kahit alam kong masasaktan ako sa dulo. O kaya naman… minamahal pa rin kita kahit ang tagal nang tapos nung meron tayo."
He didn't speak.
Kate's voice cracked further. "Siguro ang tanga ko sa part na umaasa pa rin ako na babalik ka. Siguro kaya ako nakakaramdam ng galit? Ng sakit? I don't really know. You needed nobody, you just wanted your peace—you said that. Nirespeto ko yun, kasi ramdam kong nahihirapan ka."
She sniffled, wiping tears angrily. "Valid ba 'to? Yung galit at sadness na nararamdaman ko? Pwede ko ba tong maramdaman?"
She laughed bitterly through her sobs. "Kasi parang… ang sinungaling mo lang sa part na in-end mo yung atin for those reasons. Kung sinabi mo lang na ayaw mo talaga sakin in the first place—na napilitan ka lang—okay lang eh. Okay lang talaga."
"Kate…" he finally spoke, voice low.
But she cut him off.
"I don't even know why I messaged you," she whispered. "I just… wish this anger I'm feeling toward you would grow. Lumaki pa. Sana kayanin kong kamuhian ka. Kasi what you did to me was… unforgivable."
She paused, breath shaking.
"I wanna hate you, Ceath."
Silence.
Then he answered.
"I never meant to leave you with all these questions," his voice was quiet. Raw. "But maybe silence already said what I couldn't."
He exhaled. "I'm sorry, Kate. I'm sorry if I came off like I didn't care. I was just… lost. Not ready. And maybe unfair to you."
He added, almost a whisper, "You didn't deserve that."
Kate didn't speak.
She didn't even breathe for a moment.
Not because she forgave him.
Not because she understood now.
But because…
She was tired.
So goddamn tired.
Tired of this cycle. Of being left in the dark and expected to figure it out on her own. Of hoping that his silence meant something more than indifference.
Of giving her heart to someone who only held it when it was convenient.
She stared at the ceiling.
Eyes burning. Jaw clenched.
She took a shaky breath. "Then let me hate you, Ceath. Let me move on that way."
And this time, she didn't wait for him to reply.
Because she knew he wouldn't stop her.
Because he never had.
She ended the call.
The screen went black.
She placed the phone face down on the bed like it burned to touch it.
Then she rolled to her side.
And finally… finally… let the sobs tear out of her chest.
Not loud. Not dramatic.
Just soft. Desperate. Silent.
She cried for everything she wished he was.
For everything he never tried to be.
For everything she gave.
And everything she'll never get back.
She clutched her pillow, tears soaking the fabric, her mouth pressed to it to keep herself from screaming.
Because this wasn't heartbreak anymore.
It was grief.
Grief for a love that never got the chance to live fully.
Grief for the version of herself she lost trying to make it work.
Grief for the girl who waited.
And hoped.
And prayed.
Only to be left again.
Kate closed her eyes.
And whispered into the dark, voice hoarse:
"Never again."
---
Ceath stared at his phone screen long after the call ended.
The words still echoed in his ears.
"Then let me hate you, Ceath. Let me move on that way."
His hand tightened around the phone. His breath came out slow, uneven. It felt like someone had just punched a hole through his chest—and all he could do was sit there and let the air leak out of him.
That was her voice.
Kate's voice.
The same voice that once soothed him to sleep. That used to call him "baby" without hesitation. That used to whisper, "I'll wait, kahit mahirap."
Now? It cracked. It trembled. It bled.
And it told him she wanted to hate him.
He deserved that.
He sat up, ran a hand over his face, and stared into the empty room. Red had gone home for the night after dinner, after telling him how happy she was to have met someone "so steady." So sure. So warm.
And yet here he was.
Anything but steady.
A thousand versions of himself fought in his head.
The one who wanted to chase her.
The one who wanted to protect her from himself.
The one who still loved her but couldn't say it.
The one who thought he was doing the right thing by walking away.
He groaned softly, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.
He told himself Kate would be better off without him. That she deserved someone who wasn't figuring himself out in real time. Someone who wouldn't make her question her worth. Someone who could commit without flinching.
But he hadn't counted on this kind of silence.
This heavy, punishing silence.
He whispered into the dark, "I never meant to leave you with all those questions, Kate… but maybe silence already said what I couldn't."
God, she sounded so hurt.
And so done.
He thought the pain would lessen with time. That by moving on—by choosing someone new—he'd finally find peace. But now, he just felt like a liar.
Because peace wouldn't come when the only thing you've ever done is run.
His mind kept going back to her face in that hospital.
Professional. Poised. Polite.
But her eyes… they looked like they were holding back a storm.
And still, she said nothing when she left.
She didn't even look back.
That was the worst part.
Not the anger.
Not the tears.
But the quiet. The resolve.
That she finally let go.
He stood up, walking over to the window.
Manila's skyline blinked in the distance.
Somewhere out there, she was packing her bags, getting ready to return to Pangasinan.
Probably erasing his name from her phone. Probably trying to forget everything—his voice, his touch, his smile.
And he? He was still here. Still thinking of her.
Still missing the girl he never even claimed.
His hand hovered over the call button again.
He wanted to say I'm sorry.
He wanted to say I still love you.
But he knew the sound of her hanging up meant something.
It meant she was done waiting.
And this time, maybe… she had to be.
So he let the phone drop to the bed.
Closed his eyes.
Sat in the quiet.
And this time, the silence wasn't distance.
It was consequence.
It was the echo of a goodbye he didn't say—but that she finally meant.
He whispered, "I wish you hated me less…"
But he also knew—
She finally could.
Because this time, she didn't beg him to stay.
This time, she walked away.
And for the first time since they met, he didn't follow.