Page 58 of Between Then and Now
“When you’re with me, it’s the only time I can speak my mind. The only time I don’t fidget or worry or freak out. I enjoy every minute we’re together, and when we’re not, I look forward to the next time I’ll see you. And not because you’re funny orhappy or whatever you’re trying to be. I cherish it all because you’re you. Flaws and all.” I take a deep breath. “There’s your perfect balance.”
“Thank you,” she says as she holds my hand and interlocks her fingers with mine. Bon doesn’t speak, but she wipes her eyes. She’s not trying to hide the crying anymore. I’m not going to force her to come to terms with her feelings just because I came to terms with mine. So instead of pushing her for an answer, I say, “Are you feeling better?”
She nods. “I forgot to ask you,” Bon says. “What happened to your date tonight?” I don’t know if this is the right time to tell her that I canceled with Alexa because I realized it’s not her I like. I feel like I’m taking advantage of Bon’s vulnerability if I tell her all these things now. “She had to take a rain check. Said something personal and important came up.” Sorry, Alexa.
“Ugh. Doctors suck.” Bon says, chuckling lightly.
“Bon, I’m a doctor,” I reply.
“Exactly.” She playfully nudges me. “I’m kidding, you’re pretty great tonight, Ry. And I’m sorry. About the outburst earlier–”
“Don’t mention it.” I still don’t tell her about how I really feel about her. That I like her. Or maybe even more. I want that to happen when she’s not wallowing in sadness. So tonight, my only goal is to make Bon happy.
“How about this,” I say, handing her my handkerchief. “You wipe the mascara tears off your face, and let’s salvage your evening.”
She snickers as she gets the handkerchief from my hand and wipes her face. “Salvage how?”
“For starters, do you know where we are right now?”
“Some random church.” She shrugs.
“It’s not just a random church. Come on.” I stand up and reach for her hand, feeling the warmth of her fingers as she takes it. I gently pull her along, leading her to the side of the church where a quaint convent is nestled amidst the shadows.
“What, are we gonna go hang out with nuns, Ry? Is this your secret idea of a good time?” she asks, a hint of amusement in her tired voice.
“Yeah, who needs dinner when we can get divine intervention?” I say.
“I’ve always wanted a surprise holy retreat,” Bon says as she chuckles. She’s slowly returning to her happy self, and it’s already making me feel happier in return. “Seriously, though. Where are we going?” she adds.
I smile at her and say, “This convent houses one of the best things about this place.” We approach a door with a sign that reads ‘Maywang A Libro Du Vatan: Batanes Blank Book Archive’.
“What’s a blank book archive?” Bon asks, curiosity flickering in her eyes. Thankfully, the place isn’t locked, and it’s accessible at any time. I turn on the light switch, illuminating a small, cozy room filled with shelves of books. The soft glow of the lights reveals a quaint library, the air filled with the comforting scent of old paper and wood. The room is intimate, with shelves lining the walls and a few scattered tables and chairs inviting visitors to sit and explore the treasures within. At this hour, no one else is here but us.
Bon looks around, her eyes wide with wonder. “Okay, this is amazing. But again, what exactly is a blank book archive?” Her voice echoes from the small room.
“It’s exactly how it sounds,” I say, pulling out a book and opening it to reveal its blank pages. “A library of blank books. People from all over the world come here to write theirthoughts, their dreams, their stories. It’s a place where anyone can leave a piece of themselves behind.”
Her eyes soften as she takes in the room. “Oh wow. That’s beautiful. It’s like a sanctuary for thoughts and dreams.”
“Exactly,” I say, handing her the book. “I thought maybe you could use this place to write down whatever you’re feeling. It’s a way to let it all out, without any judgment,” I add calmly. “And maybe one day, we can come back here and laugh about this moment.”
She takes the book, running her fingers over the blank pages. She looks at me and smiles. “Thank you, Ry. This means a lot.”
We sit down at one of the tables, and for a moment, the world outside fades away. In this small room, we are surrounded by the hopes and dreams of countless strangers. As Bon begins to write, I take another book and write down my feelings about the woman sitting beside me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Bonita
Ipush aside all thoughts of my outburst earlier and just focus on this moment. Ryan is being nice to me, as a friend or not, it shouldn’t matter. There’s so much I want to tell him, but maybe this blank book will do for now.
I write about how our date gave me butterflies. How our practice kiss catapulted my feelings into a rabbit hole. And that when I saw his face as I regained consciousness that day, all I wanted was to keep him close and never let him go. I keep my paragraph short and concise, and then I glance at him. He’s writing too. And in the dim light of the room, he looks like a sculpture. The small light bulb overhead casts over him like a spotlight. He’s wearing a casual shirt and opted to wear shorts tonight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this before. It’s perfect.
When he’s done, we smile at each other, and things are suddenly okay.I’msuddenly okay.
“Hey, thanks,” I say. “For everything. I don’t even know where to start.”
“You don’t have to,” he says. “Are you done writing?” I nod, and we put back our books where they belong.
