Chapter 35 – Packing and Promises
The days moved faster after the decisions were made.
Boxes started to pile up in Andrea's room — sketchbooks, brushes, clothes folded neatly by color. Across town, Sheik was busy renewing his passport, running drills, and sitting through meetings with university liaisons. The reality of leaving had become impossible to ignore.
But they weren't avoiding it anymore.
They were learning how to carry it.
They made a list together, half-joking, half-serious:
Weekly video calls
Daily check-ins (even if it's just an emoji)
No overthinking the silence
Surprise letters (Andrea insisted)
Open honesty, always
One evening, they met at their favorite coffee shop — the one with the mismatched mugs and the walls lined with used books. Andrea brought Mochi, who now had a habit of sitting under their table like a quiet, judgmental chaperone.
"I'll miss this," Sheik said, taking a sip from a mug that said "World's Okayest Athlete."
"You'll miss me more," Andrea teased, nudging his foot.
"True," he grinned. "You're the most important part of my game-day routine."
Andrea rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered.
As the sun set behind them, painting the windows gold, they talked about little things — classes, dorm rules, how many socks to pack. But the undercurrent was always the same: how do you hold onto love when life is pulling you in two directions?
"You ever worry that we're pretending this will be easy?" she asked quietly.
"Every day," Sheik admitted.
"And still… we're doing it?"
"We're doing it scared," he said. "But we're doing it."
Later that week, Andrea handed him a small notebook before he boarded his bus to the training camp in Manila.
"What's this?" he asked.
"It's a travel journal. For the things you forget to text me about. For the thoughts you don't want to say out loud."
Sheik flipped through the blank pages. On the first one, in her careful handwriting, was a message:
"Even when you're far away, I want to know the parts of you you don't post online."
His throat tightened. "You're gonna ruin me with stuff like this."
"Good," she whispered, brushing his cheek with her thumb. "Now go be brilliant."
They hugged long, hard, and deep — the kind of hug that says I love you, and I trust you, and I'll be waiting.
As the bus pulled away, Andrea stood on the sidewalk with Mochi in her arms, watching Sheik press his palm against the glass.
And for the first time since the decisions were made, it didn't feel like an ending.
It felt like the beginning of a different kind of love story — one written in distance, time zones, and effort.
The kind worth fighting for.