It was Ms. Vargas' idea, of all people.
"Nothing too fancy," she'd said, passing my desk like it was just another Monday. "Just dinner. Some drinks. A small welcome back to Lumina."
I smiled politely and nodded. But inside, my stomach twisted.
A small dinner meant the whole team. The old team. Which meant Elián.
Pretending to be okay in fluorescent office light was one thing — doing it in a room with beer, music, and lowered voices was another.
Still, I showed up. Because I always do.
We met at a low-lit bar just outside Quezon Avenue — the kind with faux leather booths, cheesy cocktail menus, and a karaoke machine older than my career.
The team clapped when I walked in. Someone slid a drink into my hand before I even sat down. I laughed, I smiled, I let myself blend back in.
And then he arrived.
Elián — in a navy button-down that made him look both the same and completely different. He nodded to the group, but his eyes flicked to me once, like a ripple across still water.
He sat two seats away. Close enough to hear me laugh. Far enough to pretend it didn't matter.
Hours passed in snippets. Fried chicken skin. Half-drunk cocktails. Office gossip Isla whispered between songs.
And then someone said, "Mara, your turn."
I tried to protest, but Ms. Vargas herself waved the mic at me. "One song. Come on — I remember that voice."
The first chords came before I could back out.
"She's back in his life…"
"And it feels so right…"
"Maybe this time, love won't end…"
I didn't mean to choose it. Didn't even think about what it would do to me. Or him.
I just… sang.
And for three minutes, the world slowed down. It was just my voice, trembling but sure, wrapping itself around every word I once lived.
I didn't dare look at him. But I felt him. I always did.
"Maybe this time… love won't hurry away"
When I got off stage, there was a beat of silence — then polite applause. Then laughter. Then noise returned like nothing had cracked.
But I stayed quiet the rest of the night.
Outside, near the waiting cars, I felt someone step beside me.
"You haven't changed," he said.
I turned slowly. "That's a lie."
He smiled, soft and sad. "Okay. Maybe just your voice. It got… sharper."
I smirked. "That tends to happen."
He looked down at his keys, then up at me again. "Want a ride?"
I hesitated. "Sure."
The car was silent. Familiar. Like no time had passed and too much had.
He tapped the steering wheel once before asking, "Jace… was he your boyfriend?"
I turned to the window. "No."
His hands stilled.
"He wanted to be," I added. "But I couldn't give him what he deserved."
He didn't respond.
"I never got the chance to forget you," I said quietly, not looking at him.
The air between us broke then — soft and sudden, like paper torn neatly in two.
And just as he was about to speak — as something in his throat shifted — the back door clicked open.
"Surprise, b*tches!" Isla said, drunk and grinning, sliding into the back seat like a twist in fate. "You thought I'd leave you two alone? As if."
Elián blinked.
I laughed once, sharply.
And just like that — the moment passed.
Maybe this time… was just another almost