Page 68 of Between Then and Now
“That’s the thing about self-doubt,” Joshua says gently. “It’s always louder than the truth.” His voice sounds strained, as if his mind trailed off.
I take a deep breath, feeling a mixture of relief and vulnerability. “So, what do you think I should do?”
“Talk to him,” Joshua says. “Be honest about your fears and let him reassure you. Let him talk to you so I won’t have to. Let the right person in.”
“Thanks,” I say. “Maybe take your own advice someday?” I try to lighten the situation.
“Leave me out of that.” He chuckles. “Mom has been pestering me with girls she’s going to introduce to me once I get home. It’s sick, really. I don’t know what makes her think I want to settle down after living my whole life with them as my parents?”
This is the most he’s ever said about our parents, and I somehow find myself smiling at his rare moment of honesty. “That’s just mom’s way of talking to you, you know,” I say. “She just wants to be the normal mom for once. And you know what? Just let her.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing, Bon. I’m letting her. Doesn’t mean I have to act on it,” he says. “Now, fix whatever it is you’re going through and please–tell your boyfriend to stop calling me.”
I hang up the phone, feeling a renewed sense of determination. Joshua’s tough love may sting, but maybe it’s what I need. Maybe it’s time to take the first step towards resolving the mess of emotions and decisions that have been weighing on me.
But first, I set my phone aside and turn back to the film editing, focusing on the task at hand. It’s time to finish this project at last.One catastrophe at a time, Bon.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Bonita
Iam sitting in the conference room of our studio as Mr. Ramirez and a few other colleagues watch my documentary film. I stayed up all night last night to finish it and submit it. At first, the bosses were skeptical because I was too early on my submission, but now they’re ooh-ing and aah-ing at all the right moments.
“You’ve outdone yourself, Ms. Santiago,” he says as the film ends and we’re alone in the conference room.
“Told you I was great,” I say with a sheepish grin.
Mr. Ramirez chuckles and says, “This is just in time, too.” I raise my eyebrows at him, curious. “You know it’s our company’s anniversary tomorrow and management is giving out awards. I think you deserve one.”
Believe me when I tell you that I freak out. I squeal so loud I don’t care if I’m heard outside. “No way,” I say. “You’re serious?” A surge of excitement and disbelief rushes through me.
“Absolutely,” he says, his expression sincere. “You’ve demonstrated exceptional talent and dedication. This film is proof of that.”
I feel like I’m about to levitate out of my chair. “Thank you, Mr. Ramirez,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “I really appreciate it.”
He smiles warmly. “You’ve earned it, Ms. Santiago. Keep up the excellent work. We’ll keep in touch on the event details and draft your return contract, assuming you still want to be here.”
“Of course. It’s not every day I get to be an asset.” I wink playfully as Mr. Ramirez laughs again.
“Any special request before we draft it?” he asks.
I ponder quietly, but it doesn’t take too long before I answer. “Yes, can I not be under Natasha, please?”
Mr. Ramirez just laughs and nods. Thank goodness.Bye bye, laundry errands and dog-walking sessions! Good riddance, Natasha!
As I leave the conference room, I feel like I’m walking on clouds. All the sleepless nights paid off. I can’t help but do a little celebratory dance in the hallway, earning a few curious glances from my colleagues. My grin is so wide it could light up the entire building. I want to scream, shout, and maybe even burst into song. This is my moment, and it feels absolutely incredible.
But as the initial euphoria begins to settle, a sobering thought hits me. There’s only one person I truly want to share this achievement with, and I left him in Batanes with nothing but a note that signified my cowardice.
I sigh as I drive back home. I try to convince myself that this is the right thing to do. That Ryan doesn’t deserve a half-ass girlfriend who can’t even make up her mind about who she should be. But there’s a nagging feeling that keeps on asking me: if I’m doing the right thing, then why do I feel so wrong?
When I arrive back in the village, I stop by The Corner Bistro to get my favorite sandwich.
“Bonita Santiago.” I hear a female voice from behind me. I turn to see Haley and Kate sitting in one of the booths. I make my way over to them with the sandwich in my hand.
“Yes?” I say as I sit down and begin eating.
“Can you please explain to us why Ryan’s Instagram account looks like a montage of you? He posted eight times in the last fifteen minutes,” Haley says.
