Ayisha's eyes burned, nose red and clogged.
"Sorry," she muttered, covering her face. "I'm an ugly crier."
Simon exhaled and gently pulled her hand away. "No, you're not."
Then, without thinking, "You're cute."
He froze.
Ears turn red. "Forget it," he added quickly. "Kid." He stepped back, already turning away. "I'll just… buy food."
He left in a hurry, helmet tucked under his arm.
Ayisha watched him go, a weak chuckle slipping out before she wiped her tears and took a steadying breath. Then she stepped back into the room.
Her mother was watching her.
"Ayisha…"
She walked over and set the helmet down on a chair. "Sorry," she said softly. "You heard everything, didn't you?"
Her mother nodded. "I did."
She reached for Ayisha's hand, patting it gently. "You've done enough."
Ayisha shook her head. "It still doesn't feel like it." Her voice dropped. "Not even close."
Her mother smiled faintly and squeezed her hand. "Ayisha… who's the man you're with?"
"Oh." Ayisha glanced at the door, then back at her. "That's Simon. He's my good friend." She smiled, quieter now. "He really is."
Her mother studied her. "How did you meet him?"
"At a convenience store," Ayisha replied. "Sunday. March twelve. Around noon."
Her mother laughed softly. "You even remember the date."
Ayisha laughed too, surprised at herself.
Her chest fluttered slightly as they talked about him, a feeling she didn't bother naming.
A knock interrupted them.
The door opened. "Sorry to interrupt," Simon said, stepping in carefully.
He carried a small basket of fruit, takeout containers balanced in one hand, a bottle of water tucked against his arm along with his helmet.
He set the basket down beside the bed. "This is for you, ma'am. It's good for your health."
"Oh, thank you," her mother said warmly. "You didn't have to."
"No worries," Simon replied. He smiled, then took her hand and bowed slightly, pressing it to his forehead in a practiced
mano.
"I'm Simon. Ayisha's friend."
Her mother chuckled. "You know mano?"
She looked amused. "Nakakatuwa naman."
Ayisha smiled, watching them. "Thanks, Simon."
He turned to her. "You're welcome." Then he handed her a takeout box. "I passed by a karinderya nearby. It's already noon, so—lunch."
She took it. "Salamat. What about you?"
He lifted his own container. "Got one too."
She laughed. He did too.
From the bed, Maricel watched them quietly, a gentle smile settling on her face.
Simon placed his helmet beside Ayisha's, picked up an orange from the basket, peeled it carefully, and handed it to Maricel.
"You're a very kind man," she said as she took it.
"Thank you, ma'am."
"Call me Tita Maricel."
Simon smiled, a little shy. "Yes—Tita Maricel."
She laughed. Ayisha joined in.
"Eat now," Maricel said.
Simon nodded and took his seat. Ayisha opened her container and started eating.
"What did you get?" she asked between bites.
"Tocilog," he said, opening his box. "Same as you. Good thing they had it."
"Good taste," she said.
He smiled.