Pasco couldn't sleep. Debbie's words haunted him, each syllable a reminder of his mistakes. He wasn't ready to give up, not yet. For days, he tried to reach out—sending texts, flowers, and even showing up at her favorite spots in Phnom Penh. But Debbie remained distant, her walls higher than ever.
Meanwhile, Debbie struggled to process the encounter. Part of her heart still clung to the memories of Pasco, but her mind reminded her of the hurt he caused. Filex's steady presence was a comfort, but it didn't stop the doubts from creeping in. "You've been distracted," Filex said one evening as they walked through the night market.
Debbie sighed, her eyes scanning the glowing stalls but not truly seeing them. "It's just… Pasco. He won't stop trying to talk to me."
Filex nodded, his expression calm but thoughtful. "And how does that make you feel?"
She hesitated. "Confused. Angry. And maybe… a little sad. He was my first love, Filex. A part of me always wondered if he'd come back."
"And now he has," Filex said softly, stopping to face her.
"But do you really want to go back to that version of
yourself? The girl who waited, who begged for answers?"
Debbie's throat tightened, and she looked away, tears threatening to spill. "I don't know. Sometimes it feels like I'll never really move on."
Filex gently took her hand, his touch grounding her. "You don't have to decide right now. Just promise me one thing."
"What?" she whispered.
"Don't let him make you doubt your worth. You've come too far for that."