Page 97 of Between Here and There

“Well, you grew up with just our parents, right? But I had you.”

Her words hit me like a brick, and I don’t know what to say.

“You shielded me from so much,” she continues, her voice steady and sure. “You stepped in when things got bad. You showed me that love could be safe, that it could be real. So cut yourself some slack, Kuya. You’re a lot more capable of love than you think. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t push you so hard to get together with my best friend. I love her just as much as I love you, and I wouldn’t risk either of you getting hurt if I didn’t believe you could make it work.”

My throat tightens, and I swallow hard. “But what if I do hurt her? What if I mess it all up?”

“Then you make it right,” she says firmly. “You’re not gonna get it right the first time, but as long as you’re ready to face things with her, and fix things every time they get messy, then you’re good to go. Emily’s worth all that, isn’t she? Don’t answer that. Of course she is.”

“Thanks, Bon,” I say, my voice low but steadier than before.

“Anytime. Now go. Do what you should’ve done a week ago.”

Here goes nothing.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Emily

Frank agreed to move me to part-time while I sort out the business registrations with Claire and wait for my visa sponsorship to finalize. It gives me the breathing room I desperately need.

It’s been weeks since I last saw Joshua. And to be honest, I’ve been trying to keep my distance. It’s like I’m starting to guard my heart again. I don’t know why, but it’s like a default move for me.I’m burying myself with all the distractions just so I won’t think about him. None of it works, by the way.

I finish the coffee order and walk toward the counter. “One latte for…” I squint at the name scribbled on the cup and feel a familiar pang of irritation. “Phil McGroin,” I mutter, barely above a whisper, cheeks heating in annoyance.

No one is claiming this stupid coffee, so I call out again. “Phil? Phil McGroin?”Ugh.

I scan the surroundings, already convinced that I should just throw this shit away. But then my eyes flicker to someone at the far end of the room.

There, leaning on the wall with a smirk on his face, is Joshua.

A laugh breaks the tension as he walks toward me, his grin as smug as ever. “You promised to put it on the house when I ordered that,” he says, snatching the coffee from my hand.

For a moment, I’m speechless. It’s like he read my mind and showed up before I had the chance to do the same to him.

“Hi,” I say, exasperated, trying not to smile.

“Hi,” he replies, his voice warmer, softer than his usual teasing tone. “Do you have a minute?”

I hesitate, glancing at the trickle of customers, then nod. “Sure.”

I follow him to the back entrance, where I met him during my tantrum session.

He takes a bouquet of red roses off the table, and hands it to me. “For you, Tantrum,” he says.

I blink, caught between surprise and disbelief, before taking the bouquet. The soft petals brush against my fingertips as I say, “Never pegged you for a flower-giving kind of guy.”

“I’m quite full of surprises,” he counters.

I laugh. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m wrapping up this site,” he says, gesturing to the construction beside us. “Also, I really need a new accountant.”

I chuckle. “We’re almost finished with the registrations. Would you like to be our client?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

There’s a beat of silence before he shifts, his usual playful demeanor giving way to something quieter.

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