My phone buzzed insistently, jolting me from the fog of sleep. I glanced at the screen, and there it was—Kirvie’s name glaring back at me. I sighed, rolling my eyes, already knowing I had zero energy to answer. Bahala na siya, let him stew.

I was about to get up and make my way to the restroom when the door swung open and Xyra appeared, eyes wide with concern as she took in my disheveled state.

“Ano ba yan? Ang lala ng itsura mo!” she exclaimed, rushing over to steady me. I swayed dangerously, the room spinning more than a little. Apparently, I’d overdone it last night.

“Anong nangyari sayo?” she asked, worry tinting her voice. “Pati boyfriend mo malalagot dito, ha.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to will away the nausea. “Fck! ‘Wag ka matutulog, tsingina talaga,” was the last thing I heard before darkness claimed me again.

***

When I finally opened my eyes, a dizzy haze clung stubbornly to my mind. I was definitely in my condo, the familiar surroundings both comforting and confusing. I tried to piece together the night before, but my memory was a jumbled mess; the only clear detail was that Xyra was the last person I remembered being with.

Who had brought me home?

Shakily, I swung my legs over the bed and stood, wobbling slightly until I found balance. I shuffled to the bathroom to splash water on my face, hoping to wash away the pounding headache and lingering fog.

“Fck, sakit ng ulo ko,” I muttered, my voice hoarse.

After a quick shower and a bit of freshening up, I crept out of the bathroom, only to freeze in the doorway of the kitchen. Sitting at the table was Kirvie, leaning back casually, but his eyes caught mine immediately.

“Babe,” I whispered, surprised.

He didn’t acknowledge my greeting right away. Instead, he stood and pulled out a chair for me with a firm tug.

“What are you doing here?” I asked cautiously, still unsteady.

“I should be the one asking you that, Hails,” he said, voice sharp. “What the hell did you do at the bar last night?”

I swallowed hard. “I… I drank,” I admitted sheepishly.

His gaze darkened, disappointment written all over his face. I bit my lip, knowing full well he was mad.

“Kumain ka na,” he muttered quietly.

I turned to the plate in front of me—chicken steak, my favorite. The scent was enough to make my stomach growl despite the queasiness.

“How about you? Did you eat?” I asked, needing a distraction.

He didn’t answer, instead sitting back down and folding his arms.

I poked at the food, reluctant but hungry. “Babe…” I tried again.

He glanced at me, eyes unreadable.

“Who brought me home?” I pressed, confused and embarrassed.

“You should remember,” he replied coldly. “You don’t because you were so wasted, you didn’t even know what you were doing.”

I felt a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry…”

“You made me worry,” he said, voice softening just a little. “If you want to drink next time, just call me. I can go with you.”

We ate quietly, the tension lingering until he finished the last bite and started cleaning up. I wanted to help but backed off when I saw that look in his eyes—the same one that told me he wasn’t ready to forgive yet.

When he was washing dishes, I slowly walked behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He jumped slightly, then stiffened.

“Hailey,” he warned gently.

I ignored him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He didn’t say anything, and I felt his hands push lightly at my arms. My strength faded, and before I could say more, he spun around, and I darted back to my room.

Why did I suddenly feel like crying? I didn’t even understand my own emotions. With Kirvie, though, my heart softened so easily.

I collapsed onto my bed, tears streaming down like a waterfall. I grabbed the comforter and hid my face.

The bed shifted a little, and I sobbed harder, overwhelmed.

“Hailey,” he called softly.

I stayed silent, knowing he was still upset. He called me again, this time using our pet name.

That little touch broke me further. He tried pulling the comforter from me, but I clung to it weakly.

His eyes widened at the sight of me, and he moved closer, gently urging me to sit up.

“Hey, stop crying,” he soothed, brushing my tears away. But the flood wouldn’t stop, and he sighed deeply.

“Don’t cry, tahan na,” he whispered, voice tender. “I’m not mad.”

Wavering, I choked out, “You’re mad.”

“Not anymore,” he said, facing me. “I can’t stay mad at you. I love you too much.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you,” I whispered, voice cracking. “I love you so much, Kirv.”

“And I love you,” he replied. “Now stop crying.”

I wiped my eyes and looked at him.

“Who helped you get me home?” I asked curiously.

“Your best friend. She called me last night, said you were totally wasted. I came to get you at the bar.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, lowering my gaze.

He nodded and pulled me into a tight hug, which I returned eagerly.

Our embrace didn’t last long; I pulled away and smiled.

“Date tayo?” I asked.

“That’s the plan,” he grinned.

“I want to go to the mall,” I added.

“Then we’ll go,” he agreed.

I stood and slipped into the walk-in closet, picking out a simple dress and flats—something comfortable and cute.

When I came out, he gave me a once-over, eyes warm.

“Is it okay?” I asked, nervous. What if he didn’t like it?

He chuckled. “Whatever you wear, you’re beautiful.”

I blushed. “You should be proud I’m your girlfriend.”

“I’m more than proud,” he smirked, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Patay na patay ka talaga sakin,” I teased, pushing his shoulder gently.

He laughed. “Yabang mo naman po.”

For the first time since the headache and tears, I felt light and hopeful again. Maybe things would be okay after all.