Emotional Crossroads

The drive back to Namtan's house was a silent one. The sun had set, the golden hues of the day fading into the deep, tranquil blues of night, and yet, the silence in the car felt suffocating. Film sat in the passenger seat, her gaze fixed out of the window, her lips set in a hard line. It was as if the events of the day, of everything that had been said and left unsaid, had created an impenetrable wall between them. Namtan could feel it, that cold distance that lingered between them, hanging heavier than the quiet of the evening.

Film had been quiet ever since they left the beach, and no matter how many times Namtan stole glances at her, her expression was unreadable, distant. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to apologize for, but the words just wouldn't come. How could they? How could she explain the torrent of emotions she had unleashed with that confession? How could she make Film understand that it wasn't just the past, the history with Faye, that held her back, but everything about her—about them—that felt so tangled, so scary, so forbidden?

And yet, Namtan knew she had to say it. She had to be honest—because keeping everything bottled up had only deepened her misery. But now, as she drove through the quiet, empty streets, doubt gnawed at her mind. Had she made a mistake? Had she shattered whatever fragile connection they had managed to build? Film had looked so shocked, so hurt. And even though Film had already told her she didn't feel the same, Namtan couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that she had only made things worse.

Namtan's grip tightened on the steering wheel, but she didn't say anything. Neither did Film.

When they finally arrived at Namtan's house, the air was thick with tension. Film didn't wait for Namtan to help her out of the car. She simply grabbed her bag and walked briskly toward the door, not sparing a glance back at her. Namtan felt the sting of that, but she didn't say anything. She knew better than to push.

Inside, Namtan busied herself with dinner. It felt like something she could control. She prepared the meal as methodically as she could, trying to focus on each task and avoid the whirlwind of thoughts circling her mind. But no matter how hard she tried, her thoughts kept drifting back to that moment on the beach—the words she had spoken: I can't like you, Film. How could she have said that? How could she have created a wall between them when all she truly wanted was to take the risk, to reach out and let herself feel?

The guilt gnawed at her relentlessly, a constant reminder of the weight of her confession. Yet deep down, she knew that if she hadn't said it when she did, she might never have found the courage. She liked Film—no matter how many times she tried to convince herself otherwise, that truth wouldn't change. Saying it aloud had been her desperate attempt to remind herself that she couldn't like her, even though, in her heart, she already did.

When dinner was ready, she knocked on Film's door, her hand hovering over the doorknob for a moment before she finally knocked lightly. "Film, dinner's ready," she called, her voice quieter than usual, almost tentative. She waited for a response, but none came. She knocked again, a little louder this time. "Film?"

Still, no answer.

Sighing, Namtan walked away from the door, feeling the weight of Film's silence press down on her chest. She ate alone, the food tasteless in her mouth, the act of eating feeling like a mechanical task. She was numb, not hungry for the food but for the words, the conversation that she so desperately wanted to have, the connection that seemed so elusive.

After she finished, Namtan retreated to her bedroom. She grabbed her laptop, opened it, and tried to focus on the mountain of emails that had accumulated. Work, always work, the thing she could rely on to drown out the noise of everything else. She clicked through emails mindlessly, skimming over them, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the beach, to the confession she had made, to Film's stunned silence.

She checked her phone as she sat there, letting the work blur into the background for a moment. The screen lit up with a message from Sonya.

"Hey, I'm heading back to the Philippines tomorrow. Let's meet in the office?"

Namtan sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. Finally—the moment she had been dreading and anticipating had arrived. She was about to confess the most foolish thing she had ever done, and though the thought of admitting it made her cringe, she knew she couldn't keep it bottled up any longer. If she didn't talk about it to someone—either Faye or Sonya—she was sure she'd lose her mind.

"Hey Sy, Yes. I'll meet you tomorrow," Namtan typed back, not bothering to add anything else.

She set her phone down, but it did little to ease the knot in her stomach. The night was too quiet, too heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension. But for now, it seemed like the silence would be all she had.

She closed her laptop, turned off the lights, and lay back on her bed. Staring at the ceiling, Namtan couldn't help but wonder if she had just ruined everything.

---

Despite staying up late, Namtan woke up just as the first light of the sun began to stretch across the horizon. She groggily made her way out of bed, moving through her morning routine with the familiarity of habit. The air felt cool against her skin as she got dressed and headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Her mind kept returning to Film—still quiet, still distant after everything that had transpired the previous day. Namtan didn't know what Film's plans were, but she was desperately hoping they didn't involve suing her. The thought made her stomach turn.

After preparing a simple but hearty breakfast, Namtan knocked softly on Film's door, hoping for some kind of response. When there was no answer, she called out, "Film? Can I come in?"

There was still no reply.

Frowning, Namtan opened the door cautiously, a little too eager to see if Film was still in bed, but the room was empty. Panic rose in her chest, thinking Film might have already left without saying goodbye. But as she glanced around, she noticed Film's luggage and bag still neatly packed in the closet. Namtan exhaled in relief, convinced now that Film hadn't left—perhaps she had just gone out for a morning run, as she often did.

Namtan turned to head back outside, but just as she stepped onto the porch, she heard the faint sound of the door opening behind her. She whirled around, her heart skipping a beat, hoping it was Film. But instead, a young woman, looks younger that her, stepped inside.

She looked familiar.

The woman froze as their eyes met, equally startled to find Namtan standing there. Her face blushed crimson, and Namtan immediately placed her.

"Oh, hey, who are you?" Namtan asked, confused.

The woman smiled shyly, clearly flustered. "I'm so sorry," she said quickly, her words stumbling over each other. "My grandmother told me that no one would be here, so I came to clean the house because she is sick. I'm Oaey... I used to visit Grandma when we were on vacation. I'm Leah's sister."

Recognition washed over Namtan in an instant. "Oh, I remember!" she said with a smile, the pieces clicking into place. "You're Leah's younger sister! You were the one who never wanted to leave the house, no matter how many times me and Leah asked you to come out and talk. You'd hide behind your books and those thick glasses," Namtan teased, a laugh escaping her as she remembered how shy Oaey had been.

Oaey's eyes widened as she laughed softly, remembering her awkward younger self. "I didn't know you'd remember that," she said, her voice laced with a mix of embarrassment and nostalgia. "Yes, I was so shy back then, sorry."

Namtan chuckled. "Well, you're definitely not that shy girl anymore. You're practically a full-grown woman now!" she teased, noticing how much Oaey had changed. The eyeglasses were gone, and she exuded confidence—poised, pretty, and self-assured. She looked a couple of years younger than Namtan, yet far more mature than she had been in the past.

Oaey nodded with a shy smile, clearly a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry again for intruding," she said softly, trailing behind Namtan as they walked into the living room. "I thought you'd already left since there was no car outside."

Namtan furrowed her brow, confused by the comment. She paused for a moment, glancing over her shoulder toward the driveway. It only took a second for her to realize that Film might have taken the car earlier. The thought made her stomach flutter, but she quickly masked it with a nonchalant expression. "Oh, yeah... I guess my friend used it," Namtan replied, trying to keep her tone light, though there was a subtle tension in her voice

Oaey nodded thoughtfully. "Well, if you don't mind, I can go back later. I didn't mean to interrupt your morning."

"No worries," Namtan said, waving her hand dismissively. "Since you're already here, you might as well join me for breakfast. We were about to leave after we eat anyway."

Oaey's gaze wandered around the room, her eyes taking in the changes Namtan had made to the house. "Wow, you really made it, Namtan," she said in awe, her voice filled with admiration. "This place is beautiful now. I remember when it was made of wood and almost falling apart."

Namtan laughed. "You're right. One earthquake, and that house would've crumbled into pieces. Now, it's strong enough to withstand a typhoon," she joked, pouring coffee for both of them. "Go ahead and sit down. Help yourself to breakfast."

Oaey was hesitant at first but eventually agreed, sitting down and taking a bite. They caught up on old memories, laughing and chatting as Namtan poured more coffee. They learned about Leah's life—married with two kids, working as a teacher—and Oaey's new coffee shop/bookstore in Manila, which she proudly described.

"It's just a small shop," Oaey said modestly, brushing off any sense of grandeur. "Nothing like those fancy ones you go to. It's casual, cozy. You should come visit sometime."

Namtan laughed, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "I don't go to those fancy coffee shops. They're overpriced, and the coffee tastes the same anyway," she said, teasing Oaey playfully. "But I'll definitely drop by when I'm in the area."

Oaey smiled, her face lighting up with gratitude. "That would be really nice. My grandma told me how good you've been to her. Thank you for letting her take care of your house. Honestly, at first, we were against it. She's getting older, and we didn't want her to overwork herself or get sick. But she insisted, saying she was just supervising and keeping the keys while our cousin Ben handled most of the cleaning."

Namtan's expression softened, a hint of concern in her voice. "I actually told her I could find someone else to help. I didn't want her to push herself too hard. She's done so much already. But she refused—so stubborn," she added with a small smile. "Eventually, she suggested Ben. He's a great guy, and I trusted her judgment completely. That's why I thought he'd be the one coming over today."

Oaey nodded, her tone appreciative. "He was supposed to, but his wife had an accident yesterday. She's in the hospital right now."

"Oh no!" Namtan gasped, her brow furrowing. "Is Tata okay?"

"She's doing much better now," Oaey reassured her. "She slipped while cleaning the pigsty, but it wasn't too serious. Ben stayed with her at the hospital overnight, but they're hoping to be discharged today."

"I'm so relieved she's okay," Namtan said, the tension in her face easing. She stood up abruptly. "Wait here for a moment."

She disappeared into her room and returned holding an envelope. Handing it to Oaey, she said, "Can you please give this to Ben?"

Oaey immediately shook her head, gently pushing the envelope back. "No, Namtan, it's really okay. They went to a public hospital, and I've already covered the expenses."

But Namtan firmly took Oaey's hands and pressed the envelope into them. "That's good to hear, but I still want to do this. Ben's always been such a reliable guy, and I'm sure they'll need a little extra for medicine or other things. This isn't just charity—it's his salary, with a little bonus. They shouldn't have to worry about money on top of everything else."

After a moment of hesitation, Oaey finally accepted the envelope, her voice quiet but sincere. "Thank you so much, Namtan. I'll make sure Ben gets this."

"No worries. Ben and your grandma have always been like family to me. You and Leah too, even though it's been—what? Almost six years since I last saw you?" Namtan said with a soft, nostalgic smile.

"Yes, almost six years," Oaey confirmed, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "The last time was at your grandma's wake. My grandmother wanted you to stay with us, but then you disappeared."

Namtan's expression faltered, a shadow passing over her face. "I know," she murmured, her voice heavy with regret. "She talked to me at the wake. She wanted me to stay, but I didn't want to be a burden. I knew how much she was already struggling to make ends meet."

Oaey's eyes glistened, her voice trembling. "Grandma told us everything after you left. Leah used to wonder where you went, but Grandma said... she said you might never come back because of what your dad did. And when your grandma passed, and the house was sold, we thought we'd lost you forever. We cried so much when we learned the truth. Even though I wasn't as outgoing as Leah, I always looked forward to our visits. You were always so kind to us. Even when I didn't speak much, you made me feel included. You told us stories, made us laugh... I listened, you know. I really did." Her voice broke as tears began streaming down her face. "I'm sorry we didn't see it. We didn't notice the sadness behind your smiles. Maybe—maybe we could've done something if we had."

Namtan froze, struck by the raw emotion in Oaey's words. Slowly, she reached out and wiped Oaey's tears before pulling her into a tight embrace. "Hey," she whispered gently. "Don't blame yourself. None of this was your fault. I kept quiet because I thought silence would make everything easier. But I was wrong. Hearing that you and Leah cared... it means everything. I'm so sorry for leaving like that, without saying goodbye. It was just too hard. Saying goodbye to your grandma, to all of you—it felt like losing the only home I had left."

Through her tears, Oaey managed a shaky smile. "We missed you, Namtan. Did you know... Leah and I started saving money to buy back this house? We've been saving since the day you left."

Namtan's eyes widened in shock. "You... you were going to buy it back?"

Oaey nodded, her voice thick with emotion. "Yes. But two years ago, we found out someone else had already bought it. We were heartbroken. Then Grandma told us it was you. We were so happy. Leah and I kept coming back to this area, hoping to see you, but you were never around. When you asked Grandma to look after the house, we wanted to ask for your number, but she said you didn't want it given out."

Namtan's throat tightened as she fought back tears. "You two did all that... for me?"

Oaey smiled weakly, still dabbing at her wet cheeks. "Leah and her kids were here last week, but I guess I'm the lucky one who got to see you today."

Overwhelmed by the weight of Oaey's words, Namtan stepped forward and hugged her tightly once more. They held each other, their shared grief and joy spilling over in the form of quiet sobs. Years of unspoken pain and longing seemed to pour out, a catharsis neither had expected.

"Thank you," Namtan whispered, her voice trembling. "For everything. And I'm sorry—for disappearing, for not staying in touch. I never meant to hurt any of you."

Before Oaey could reply, a sharp voice cut through the room, breaking the moment like glass shattering against the floor.

"Well, well... what do we have here?" Film's voice rang out, tinged with amusement and a flicker of something more difficult to decipher. "Quite the scene for a morning."

Namtan froze, her heart plummeting. She pulled away from Oaey quickly, wiping her face, she cast a wary glance at Film. Gone was the playful glint in her eyes, replaced by something colder, sharper.

Oaey, initially unaware of the tension, widened her eyes upon seeing Film. A flicker of recognition crossed her face—she clearly knew who Film was. Yet, she remained silent, quietly wiping her tears.

Film's gaze flicked from Oaey's tear-streaked face to Namtan, narrowing slightly before she spoke again, her tone tight and laced with sarcasm. "Oh, don't stop on my account. Just getting some water. Please, continue with... whatever this is." Every word stung, a bitter edge slicing through the air.

Oaey, sensing the growing tension, offered a hesitant smile. "I... should go. I'll come back later." Her voice was soft, apologetic, as though retreating might somehow ease the thickening atmosphere.

Namtan nodded stiffly, barely managing to whisper, "Yeah... and Oaey, please don't mention you saw her."

"Of course," Oaey replied quietly, understanding the weight of Namtan's request. She glanced between them once more before slipping out, the door closing with a soft click behind her.

But the tension didn't leave with Oaey. It lingered, suffocating, as silence stretched like a chasm between Namtan and Film.

Film stepped closer, arms crossed tightly, her eyes locking onto Namtan with an intensity that pierced straight through her. Beneath the surface of her steady gaze, a storm brewed—jealousy, hurt, and something darker, raw and unfiltered.

"Seems like you're ready to like every other woman but me," Film said, her voice cold, laced with disbelief and bitterness.

Namtan's breath hitched, her chest tightening. "Film, it's not—"

Film cut her off, her words slicing through the air like a blade. "Don't bother. I don't care if you fall for every woman on this planet. Every single one—except me, of course. Because I'm off-limits, right? The one you refuse to want."

"Film, that's not—" Namtan tried again, but her voice faltered under the weight of Film's rising anger.

"Oh, spare me," Film snapped, her voice trembling, cracking under the strain of emotions barely held in check. "You hide behind this noble act, pretending it's all about Faye, but we both know the truth. You're scared. Scared of what it means if you let yourself want me. Scared of what we could be. Admit it, Namtan."

The words hit Namtan like a physical blow, each one lodging deep into her chest. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She felt exposed, her fears laid bare in a way she hadn't prepared for.

"You say you can't want me..." Film's voice softened, but the sharpness in her tone still lingered, cutting all the same. "But you already do, don't you? You feel it. I see it. And instead of facing it, you hide behind excuses. Acting like I'm the problem, like I'm the mistake."

The silence that fell between them was suffocating. Namtan's throat tightened as she tried to find the words, but none of them felt like enough.

Finally, she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions, "You're right. I am scared. Scared of what this could cost me. Faye saved me—she gave me a new life when I had nothing. And even if I do..." She paused, her voice barely above a whisper, "Even if I do like you, I can't risk it. I can't lose everything for something I might not even deserve."

Her confession hung in the air like a heavy fog, thick and suffocating. "So, even though it hurts to know that you don't feel the same way, there's a part of me that's relieved, because then I knew you wouldn't get hurt. But seeing your reaction now... I never wanted to hurt you, Film. I never wanted you to feel like this."

Film's eyes blazed, a mixture of heartbreak and defiance swirling within them. "Oh no, don't get it twisted," she said, her voice sharp yet unsteady, as though clinging to her last shred of armor. "I'm not hurt because I like you." She took a shaky breath, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to keep her composure. "I'm hurt because you're showing me that you can like everyone else, but not me."

Her voice cracked, and Namtan flinched as if the words had struck her. "I'm not some exception, Namtan. I'm not some afterthought you can dismiss because it's easier. And that's what hurts the most." Her voice rose, raw with emotion. "That you think I don't matter enough to fight for. That I'm not worth the risk."

The words hung in the air, the room heavy with the unspoken pain between them. Film's chest heaved as she blinked back tears, but she didn't wait for a response. She turned sharply on her heel, her steps echoing like gunshots in the silence.

Namtan stood frozen, her heart pounding as Film's words reverberated in her mind, louder and louder with each passing second. Her chest ached with regret, guilt flooding her as she realized just how much her fear had cost her.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hey babes!

Is anyone watching Mate the Series? I started watching it last year the moment the first episode dropped because I really loved the novel! 🖤 So, I'm introducing Oaey here because I might include them in this book series, I absolutely adore her—and I'm in love with Grace! 😅

Right now, I feel so overwhelmed because when I look at my drafts, I still have FreenBecky, EngLot, LingOrm, LMSY, and now GraceOaey. 😅

I'm not sure if I can manage MilkLove and FayMay too, but I'll do my best to finish everything! I'm even toying with the idea of doing one last JenLisa story—hahaha. Everything's plotted out; it's just a matter of finding the time to write because life has been super busy (and it's not slowing down anytime soon).

For now, I just want to thank you for enjoying NamtanFilm and for all your love and support. Our FayeYoko story already has over 30k reads, and that's incredible! 💖 Thank you so much for being here with me. I can't mention everyone, but I see all your love and support, and I'm so, so grateful for you all.

Thank you, and I love you! 🖤