Page 115 of Between Love and War
I rush to the door, pulse quick and hopeful. I peer through the peephole.
It’s not Kate.
It’s Manang Linda.
I open the door slowly. “Hi, Ma’am.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Don’t ‘ma’am’ me like I’m your coach.”
“Sorry,” I say, stepping aside. “Do you want to come in?”
“I don’t want to. But I will.” She marches past me, her chin high and her purse swinging like a weapon. “Because someone has to tell you when you’re being stupid.”
I blink. “I—what?”
“Katherine has never been in love before,” she says casually. “But she’s always the one who’s most obsessed with love. With fairy tales. With promises. With all that cheesy crap everyone used to mock her for.”
I nod. I already know all that.
Manang Linda narrows her eyes at me, but her voice softens. “And then you showed up, and everyone saw. Everyone saw that maybe Kate wasn’t so delusional about love after all.” She walks over to the box of cookies on my counter, taps the lid like it personally offends her. “She gave you the recipe?”
I nod. “Yeah. Last night.”
She exhales, long and slow. “Then that girl loves you so much, it scared her. And she did the only thing she knows how to do when she’s scared.”
“She let go,” I say, my throat tight.
“She let go,” Manang confirms. “Not because she doesn’t like you. But because she didn’t know how to be with you without making you feel like you had to choose.”
“I wouldn’t ask her to,” I mutter. “I would’ve stayed.” I don’t know if giving up my whole identity to stay here would be right. But I’d have done it until we figured out how to create a life both of us would thrive in.
“She didn’t want you to stay,” Manang Linda says. “Not like that. Not while you were still carrying the weight of needing to prove yourself.”
“Yeah… Shebelievesin me,” I say, remembering the way she told me that she was rooting for me. That I was made for big things. I’m not so sure about that anymore.
“You know what the thing about Katherine is?” Manang Linda continues, turning toward me. “She doesn’t ask for much. She never has. But the one thing she’s always wanted is someone who loves her. Chooses her. Out loud.”
I swallow hard. “I chose her.”
“No, you loved her,” she corrects. “But you didn’t fight for her.”
My eyebrows scrunch. How could I fight for her if I didn’t know how to be what she needed? I look down at my hands, curled into fists without realizing it.
“You’re a good boy, Michael.” I look at her, suddenly remembering my grandma. She used to tell me that whenever I’d be frustrated about not being accepted for local leagues. She’d tell me that I was a good boy, and that it wouldn’t matter what life would throw at me because I have the kindness to make it worthwhile.
Overtime, that kindness faded. Drowned by ego and validation and everything that came with fame.
She pauses, then looks up at me again. “You’re a good boy. But you’re still growing. And Katherine? She’s just learning how totake up space. You two collided in the middle of figuring yourselves out. That’s just bad timing.”
“So what do I do?” I ask, voice breaking a little. “Just… wait? Hope she figures it out?”
“No,” she says. “You both deserve more than hoping. You live your life. Be proud of it. Be kind. Keep going. And if one day the timing’s better—if you’ve become the man who knows he’s already enough, and she’s the woman who finally believes she deserves the big love she’s always dreamed of—then maybe…”
I look down. I don’t like the thought ofmaybe.
“I miss her,” I admit quietly.
“I know,” she says, almost tender now. “She misses you too. Even if she doesn’t say it.”
