"Of all places to choose to stay, why here, of all places?" I asked, my voice tinged with disbelief and curiosity.
Wayne leaned casually against the railing of his veranda, the city lights casting a soft glow on his face. He looked at me with a nonchalant expression, as if the answer were obvious. "Well, that's the point. I wanted to stay close," he replied, his tone effortlessly casual.
I stared at him, trying to process his response. "Are you even sane right now? Do you know what you're saying?" I asked, my voice rising with a mix of frustration and confusion.
Wayne gave a light-hearted shrug, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, pretty much more sane than usual," he said, his tone almost playful.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions. "If I may remind you," I said, emphasizing each word carefully, "it might be best to stay away from your ex after so many years of being apart, rather than staying close." The words felt heavy as I spoke, the reality of our proximity sinking in.
Wayne's eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. "Well, I'm different from most guys," he said, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. "There's that saying, 'Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer,' right?"
I raised an eyebrow, taken aback by his response. "Why did I become an enemy?" I asked, my tone incredulous, as if struggling to understand his logic.
Wayne chuckled softly, the sound warm and easy. "I didn't mean it like that," he said, his voice gentle yet teasing. "Just thought it would be interesting to see you more often."
His response only deepened the confusion and tension between us. The playful banter was masking something deeper, and I found myself caught between irritation and intrigue. I tried to process his words while grappling with the unexpected reality of him being so close.
"Interesting?" I echoed, my skepticism evident. "You mean torturous. You can't just drop a bomb like that and expect me to be okay with it."
He straightened up, a more serious look crossing his face. "Look, I know it's complicated. But I think we both know there's unfinished business between us."
"Unfinished business?" I shot back, crossing my arms. "You mean the years of silence? The things left unsaid?"
"Exactly," he said, his voice dropping slightly. "I'm not trying to stir up drama. I just think we owe it to ourselves to talk."
"Talk?" I repeated, my heart racing. "About what? The past? The hurt? Or maybe the fact that you're living a stone's throw away from me?"
Wayne took a step closer, his expression earnest. "Yes, all of it! I want to understand why things fell apart. I want to know if there's still something here, like even friendship."
"Something here? Friendship?" I laughed bitterly. "You mean the tension? The unresolved feelings? It's not a good foundation for a friendship."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I get that. But maybe it's a start. We can't just pretend nothing happened."
I paused, the weight of his words settling in. "And what if I'm not ready for that? What if I want to forget?"
Wayne's gaze softened. "Then maybe you just need time. But I'm here if you decide you want to talk."
"Why do you care so much?" I asked, genuinely curious now.
"Because, it's just unsettling to me that we're becoming a family in the future but still awkward with each other." he said, a hint of sincerity in his voice, "and at the same time, you were important to me. You still are."
I looked away, my heart conflicted. "This is a lot to process."
"Take your time," he replied softly. "I'm not going anywhere."
I stared at him, uncertainty swirling in my mind. Would this conversation really resolve anything? 
The city lights flickered behind us, casting shadows that danced across the veranda, mirroring the turmoil inside me.
"Wayne," I finally said, my voice softer but edged with doubt, "do you really think talking about the past will change anything? Especially now that you're getting married?"
He straightened up, his playful demeanor fading. "I believe it can," he replied, his tone earnest. "Ignoring what happened won't make it disappear. We can't just pretend it didn't shape us."
I crossed my arms, feeling the weight of his words. "But what about your fiancée? Isn't this unfair to her? You're here, stirring up old feelings instead of focusing on your future."
Wayne stepped closer, his gaze steady. "I'm not trying to hurt anyone. But I need to understand why we ended up like this. It's not just about my engagement; it's about us."
I felt a rush of emotions, caught between irritation and a flicker of hope. "You make it sound so simple. Just talk it out and everything is fine? But you're committed to someone else now."
He chuckled softly, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. "I know it's complicated. But isn't it worth a shot? If we don't try, we might never know what went wrong."
I sighed, my breath shaky. "And what if trying just makes it worse? What if we end up hurting each other all over again? Or worse, hurting her?"
Wayne reached out, lightly touching my arm. "I get that. But I can't ignore what I feel. I still care about you, and I don't want to run away from this. It's not just a fling for me."
I looked down, processing his words. The warmth of his hand sent a shiver through me. "This is a lot to take in. You're about to marry someone, Wayne. And it's not just anyone, but my sister. How can we even have this conversation?"
"Because I need to be honest," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I want to understand everything—what we felt, what went wrong. I just want to be clear about my feelings before I take that next step."
I met his gaze, feeling a mix of fear and curiosity. "This feels selfish. What if this leads to chaos? What if it damages your relationship?"
"Then at least we'll know," he said, his voice gentle. "I don't want to keep pretending. I have to figure this out, for both of us."
I took a deep breath, my heart racing. "I don't know if I can be part of this. It feels wrong."
"Then don't," he replied softly. "I'll respect your choice. But just know that when you are ready to talk, I'll be here."
After the talk with Wayne, I felt even more tangled in confusion. Why had I agreed to entertain this conversation? I had hoped to forget the past, to move on, especially now that he was marrying my sister. The thought twisted in my stomach like a knife.
But deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that he might have a point. Maybe talking about it could bring some clarity—perhaps even closure. I leaned against the railing, staring out at the city lights, my mind racing.
"You're marrying Dela Cruz, right?" Wayne suddenly changed the topic, trying to ease the tension that hung between us like a heavy fog.
I shook my head, my voice steady. "No. I didn't want to marry someone I don't even love."
Wayne looked at me intently, his brows furrowing. "Have you even loved someone after me?"
I paused, the question catching me off guard. I looked at him, searching for the right words. "Honestly? It's complicated. I've tried to move on, but..."
"But?" he urged, his expression softening.
"But no one has ever felt the same. I guess I haven't really let go," I admitted, the weight of my confession hanging in the air. "You were different."
Wayne took a step closer, his eyes searching mine. "Different how?"
I took a breath, feeling vulnerable. "You made me feel alive in a way I didn't know was possible. It's hard to find that again."
He looked down for a moment, processing my words. When he met my gaze again, there was a mix of regret and understanding. "I didn't mean to put you in this position. I just wanted to know if I was the only one."
I sighed, feeling the tension shift slightly. "You weren't the only one, but you were the most significant. It's just hard to move on when you keep popping back into my life."
Wayne nodded, his voice low. "I get that. It's confusing for both of us."
Silence enveloped us for a moment, the city lights flickering in the background. "So what now?" I asked, my heart racing.
"I don't know," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "But maybe talking about it is a step forward, even if it feels uncomfortable."
I hesitated, weighing my options. "Maybe you're right. But we need to tread carefully. I don't want to hurt anyone."
"Agreed," he said, his tone earnest. "I just want to understand where we stand before everything changes again."
.....
Another day, another life. I sat in my office, buried under a mountain of paperwork. A conference call with the legal team was scheduled to discuss contract negotiations with a major artist for an upcoming concert tour. I needed to review the terms and provide input on finalizing the agreement.
Despite my efforts to focus, my mind kept drifting back to the conversation with Wayne. The weight of our discussion lingered, making it difficult to concentrate. I tried to push those thoughts aside, forcing myself to immerse in my work.
Just then, Hazel leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "Miss Amarra, your fiancé is waiting for you in the lobby."
Fiancé? The word felt foreign, a jolt of confusion slicing through my thoughts. My heart raced—part of me felt a rush of irritation, while another part felt a pang of anxiety.
"Thank you, Hazel," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. What was I supposed to feel? A sense of duty? Annoyance? I wasn't sure anymore.
As I gathered my things, I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. The thought of facing him brought a mix of emotions—a swirl of irritation and uncertainty. I glanced out the window, the bustling city below reflecting my chaotic thoughts, reminding myself to stay composed.
What would I say? The lingering memory of my conversation with Wayne hung over me like a cloud, casting doubt on everything. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, that the past was still casting shadows over my present.
With one last deep breath, I straightened my shoulders and headed towards the lobby, determined to face whatever awaited me.