ღHello, Exღ

It wasn’t until I could no longer see him that the reality finally hit me. This might really be it—the moment I had been waiting for. A proper closure. A mutual goodbye that wasn’t filled with shouting or unfinished questions. Perhaps this is the end I needed. Maybe now, I should stop holding on. This foolishness of mine—it has to end. It’s time I try to start anew. For myself. And find my own happiness again.

KRRRIIIINNNGGG!

The shrill sound of my phone ringing snapped me out of my thoughts. My heart skipped. It was Mom. Only then did I notice the four missed calls on my screen—all from her. That was strange. She rarely called me. That was always Dad’s thing.

“Hello, Mom?” I asked, sliding back into my seat at the restaurant, trying not to sound alarmed. “Is something wrong? You called?”

[“Cyrus slipped away again. Do you know where he might’ve gone?”]

I rolled my eyes. Of course. I had a good guess. That guy probably went straight to his best friend again—the one who had already fallen for someone else. Ironically, it was Maricar, my own friend. And the guy she fell for? A photographer. Their chemistry was undeniable, so I didn’t bother questioning it. But Cyrus? He was still stuck in that hopeless devotion.

What bothered us even more wasn’t just his unreciprocated love—it was how he kept sneaking out of the hospital just to see her. I was the only one who knew where he went. He didn’t want Mom blaming Maricar if she ever found out.

Cyrus had been confined for a while now due to his condition. I only learned the truth when he asked Maricar to join a shoot. I confronted him privately, and he eventually confessed, asking me to keep it a secret. But I couldn’t. I told Mom right away. What if his condition worsened? Thankfully, he didn’t resist. He hated making us worry more than anything. During his treatments, he seemed fine—as long as we pretended not to pity him. He hated being seen as “sick.” But this… sneaking out every weekend? That wasn’t acceptable anymore.

ღHello, Exღ

I took a cab straight to Maricar’s house—and I was right. Cyrus was there. But what shattered me wasn't just finding him—it was seeing him standing frozen outside her house, watching the couple inside kissing at the front door.

My heart sank for him.

Quietly, I approached and stood beside him. This wasn’t the time to lecture him. He was clearly in pain. The kind of pain I understood all too well. So instead, I wrapped my arms around him.

“Just cry, lil' bro,” I whispered. “Crying doesn’t make you weak.” I rubbed his back gently. He had been there for me once, when I was at my lowest—when it felt like the world had collapsed on me. Now it was my turn to be strong for him.

His pain cut deeper than mine ever did. At least I had a chance with Mhyko—even if it ended badly, we were something. Cyrus? He never even got that far. No matter how long he loved her, his feelings were never returned.

“What’s wrong with me, sis?” he choked through tears. “I’m not a bad person. I’m talented… smart, hardworking, loving—but why did she choose someone else? Why does it hurt so much?”

I blinked quickly, trying to keep my own tears from falling. “Even if you’re the perfect guy for her on paper, it’s still the heart that decides, lil' bro. We don’t get to choose who Cupid strikes. Even if you loved her first, even if you were always there, when the heart chooses someone else… we’re powerless. All we can do is accept it—and move on.”

I looked away for a moment, wiping my tears. “You don’t have to leave her life completely just to move on. Just give yourself time. Heal first, before you face her again. That way, the pain won’t control you anymore.”

The truth was, I was telling this to myself, too. I needed to remove the pain to be free. Sometimes the more we dwell on the hurt, the more it consumes us. No one can truly help us but ourselves. We have to choose to move forward, even if it takes everything we’ve got.

Maybe it runs in the family—our first loves were both failures.

I stepped back, wiped my cheeks again, and smacked him lightly on the arm.

“Ouch—what was that for?” he protested.

“Why did you run away from the hospital again? You know you’re not allowed to go out during treatment!” I smacked him again. He dodged, but not fast enough.

Tears finally spilled from my eyes. “You idiot! Think about your health first, not your love life. Stop making us worry so much!” I cried, hitting him again out of frustration and fear.

His expression softened, and he pulled me into a hug. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to say goodbye to my best friend… before the surgery.”

My heart clenched. “And if you hadn’t gotten the chance to say goodbye, were you just not going to go through with it? Are you insane?” I smacked him one more time, then wrapped an arm around his shoulder and guided him back toward the hospital. Thankfully, he didn’t resist.

Good thing, too. I would’ve dragged him if I had to.

ღTo Be Continuedღ