The rain in Subic never felt this heavy before.
It poured like the sky was trying to wash something away—something that refused to be forgotten.
Andrea tightened her grip on her bag as she ran along the empty street, her shoes splashing against puddles. The last jeep had passed, her phone was dead, and the cold night wrapped around her like a warning she didn't understand.
"Just my luck…" she whispered under her breath.
A flash of lightning cut across the sky.
Then—
A siren.
Short. Sharp. Close.
Andrea froze.
A patrol car slowed beside her, headlights blinding her for a second. The engine hummed softly as the window rolled down.
"Miss, are you okay?"
The voice was calm. Familiar.
Too familiar.
Andrea felt her chest tighten before she even looked.
But when she did—
Everything stopped.
It was him.
Marco.
Two years.
Two years of silence. Of questions. Of trying to forget.
And yet, there he was, standing right in front of her like nothing had changed.
Except everything had.
"I'm fine," she said quickly, her voice colder than she intended.
Marco stepped out of the car, rain instantly soaking his uniform, but he didn't seem to care.
"You're out here alone. At this hour," he said, studying her face. "That's not fine."
Andrea forced a small laugh.
"Since when did you start caring?"
The words hung in the air, sharp and heavy.
Marco didn't answer right away.
Instead, he took a step closer.
Close enough for her to notice the small scar near his eyebrow—the one he got years ago.
Close enough to remind her of everything she tried to forget.
"I never stopped," he said quietly.
Andrea's heart betrayed her for a second.
One second.
That was all it took.
But she caught herself.
"Don't," she said, shaking her head. "You don't get to say things like that."
The rain grew louder, filling the silence between them.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Neither of them looked away.
It felt like the world had shrunk into that one street, that one moment—just the two of them, standing between what they used to be and what they lost.
Then Andrea stepped back.
"I should go," she said.
Marco didn't move.
"Let me drive you home."
"I said I'm fine."
"Andrea—"
"Stop calling me like that."
That did it.
Marco froze.
Because he knew.
He knew that tone.
That was the same voice she used the day he left.
"You're really leaving?"
Andrea stood in front of him, her hands trembling.
Marco tightened his grip on his bag.
"I have to. This is my chance."
"And what about me?" she asked, her voice breaking.
Marco looked at her.
Really looked at her.
And for a moment, it seemed like he might stay.
Like he might choose her.
But then—
He looked away.
"I'll come back," he said.
Andrea swallowed the pain in her chest.
"That's not what I asked."
"You didn't come back," Andrea said softly.
Marco's jaw tightened.
"I tried—"
"No." She shook her head. "You didn't."
The truth hurt more because it was simple.
Because it was real.
A car passed in the distance, its lights briefly illuminating them before disappearing into the night.
Andrea wrapped her arms around herself.
"I moved on," she said.
Marco's expression changed.
Just slightly.
But enough.
"…Oh."
Andrea nodded, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"I'm engaged."
The words landed like a gunshot.
Marco didn't speak.
Didn't react the way she expected.
But something in his eyes shifted.
Something quiet.
Something painful.
Still—
He stepped closer.
"Do you love him?"
Andrea's breath caught.
Of all the questions—
Why that?
"I—"
She stopped.
Because for the first time…
She didn't have an answer.
Rain fell harder.
And somewhere between the thunder and silence—
Andrea realized something terrifying.
Some feelings…
Never really leave.