The sun was beginning its slow descent when Rainan found himself walking down a familiar path, one he hadn’t walked in over a decade. The air smelled faintly of dried grass, rustling leaves, and blooming sampaguita. San Felino hadn't changed all that much—at least not in this part of town. The houses were still modest, colorful, and quiet, with the occasional bark of a dog breaking the stillness. Every step he took reminded him of a memory he’d stored away and thought he’d forgotten.
He reached the white wooden gate of the Miranda residence and paused.
This was it.
He hadn’t rehearsed what he would say. Rainan knew Mikaela deserved more than a script. She deserved honesty. So he took a deep breath and gently pushed the gate open.
The old hinges creaked as if groaning in protest. That sound alone pulled him back to simpler days when he used to run through this very yard, chasing Angelo with Mikaela close behind, all three of them laughing like the world had no weight.
Mikaela was crouched in the garden, wearing gardening gloves and a large hat. She glanced up when she heard the gate, and for a brief second, the smile she gave him was automatic—reflexive, as if greeting any guest. Then, recognition set in.
She stood abruptly. “Rainan?”
“Hi,” he said softly, giving a small smile. “It’s been a while.”
Mikaela pulled off her gloves and held them tightly in one hand. Her expression was unreadable—surprised, confused, but not angry. Not yet.
“You're back,” she said.
“I am.”
“For good?”
He hesitated. “For a while.”
The silence that followed was thick but not hostile. Mikaela looked him up and down, as if trying to gauge if he was real. If this moment was real.
“Do you want to come in?” she asked, gesturing toward the porch.
He nodded. “If you’re okay with that.”
They walked together, quietly, to the front steps. She settled on the bench while Rainan sat a respectable distance away. The breeze was cool, rustling the leaves of the mango tree. That tree had been there since they were kids. How many secrets had it overheard?
“So,” Mikaela said, breaking the silence. “What brings you back to this sleepy old town?”
Rainan clasped his hands together, resting them on his lap. “I needed a break. From everything.”
Mikaela gave a small scoff. “Didn’t think you’d ever say that. You were always the one chasing deadlines and dreams.”
“I guess I got tired of running.”
She looked at him more closely. “You look… different.”
“Older?”
She laughed softly. “That too. But I meant more like… you seem softer. Or maybe quieter.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” he replied, gazing at the horizon. “About people I left behind. About choices I made.”
“Ah,” Mikaela said, her tone shifting slightly. “So this is the apology visit.”
Rainan winced a little. “Something like that.”
“Well, you're late,” she said, crossing her arms. “Ten years late.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “I should’ve reached out. I just… didn’t know how.”
“You could’ve written. Called. Anything.”
“I was scared,” he admitted. “Not of you. Of facing what I left behind.”
“You think you're the only one who had to face things?” Mikaela asked. “You left without a word, Rai. No goodbye. Nothing. We were supposed to be friends.”
“We were,” he said. “Still are, I hope.”
She didn’t reply right away.
Rainan smiled faintly. “Remember when we used to sit right here after school, eating turon and talking about our ridiculous dreams?”
“You wanted to build a house on a cliff,” she said.
“With glass walls and a floating staircase,” he added with a laugh.
“You were so obsessed with stairs.”
“They’re elegant!”
Mikaela shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “You were impossible.”
“I still am,” he said with a grin.
She looked at him, a little longer this time. Her shoulders softened just a bit.
“Well,” she said, standing up, “If you want to help me finish watering the plants, I might consider letting you off the hook.”
Rainan stood too. “That’s a start.”
“Come on then, city boy,” she said, tossing him the spare watering can. “Let’s see if you remember how to handle this.”