Kaisha's Pov
I gripped the paper bag in my hand, my heart pounding as I sat in the backseat of the car.
I was on my way to Rain’s condo.
She didn’t know.
Before leaving, I casually asked her where she was—just to make sure she wasn’t out or busy. She simply replied that she was at home, resting after her long day.
That was all I needed to hear.
Now, here I was, staring out the window, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement.
Nervous—because what if she didn’t want to see me? What if she was still upset? What if she thought I was being too much?
Excited—because I was going to see her.
I missed her.
Even though it had only been a day, it felt longer because of how cold she had been. Rain wasn’t the type to hold grudges, but I knew her well enough to know that when she gets tampo, it takes a while before she fully warms up again.
I sighed, looking at the sushi in my lap—her favorite.
Please, Rain, let this work.
When the car finally stopped in front of her condo, I took a deep breath.
Here goes nothing.
---
Standing outside her door, I hesitated for a second before pressing the doorbell.
Ding dong.
The seconds felt like hours before I finally heard the sound of her footsteps approaching.
Then, the door swung open.
Rain stood there in an oversized hoodie and comfy shorts, her hair slightly damp—probably fresh from a shower.
Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open slightly in shock.
“Kaisha?”
I gave her a small, sheepish smile. “Hey, Rain. I miss you na. Can we talk?”
For a moment, she just stared at me. Then, she stepped aside and opened the door wider. “Sure, come in.”
I walked inside, feeling both relieved and extra nervous.
As I placed the sushi on the table, she crossed her arms and raised a brow.
“Helsey gave you my address, no?”
I scratched the back of my neck. “Yes. Sorry if I asked her. I just really wanted to talk to you.”
She sighed but didn’t seem mad.
I quickly lifted the sushi box and smiled at her. “I bought sushi. Let’s eat?”
She finally smiled—small but genuine. “It’s okay, Kaisha. Thanks.”
---
We sat on her couch, a small table in front of us as we unwrapped the sushi.
She picked up her chopsticks and took a piece, chewing slowly. I watched her, waiting for any sign that she was still upset.
“So,” she started, looking at me, “what do you want to talk about?”
I took a deep breath. “I just really wanted to say sorry again.”
She gave me a small nod, signaling for me to continue.
“I didn’t mean to forget our lakad. I just got… too focused on painting, then Evan gave me art materials and a book, and we started talking—then I lost track of time.”
