The air in Phnom Penh was unusually cool for
December as Debbie walked through the crowded
streets on her way to the women's shelter. She carried a box of supplies, her focus solely on the day's tasks ahead.She didn't expect to hear that voice again.
"Debbie."
Her body froze as if time itself had stopped. Slowly, she turned to see Pasco standing a few feet away. He looked different—more composed, his once-boyish charm now shadowed by something deeper.
"Pasco," she said, her voice tight, emotions swirling.
"What are you doing here?"
"I had to see you," he said, stepping closer. "I… I came back because I needed to talk to you. To explain."
They found themselves at their old café, sitting at the same corner table where they had first reconnected months ago. The silence between them was deafening, but it was Pasco who broke it.
"I've been a coward, Debbie," he admitted, looking
down at his hands. "I left because I didn't know how to handle how much you meant to me. I was scared of disappointing you, of not being enough."
Debbie's chest tightened, the words stirring both anger and sorrow. "And that's why you ghosted me? Why you left me to pick up the pieces while you moved on?"
Pasco flinched, guilt heavy in his eyes. "I thought I was doing you a favor by staying away. But I see now… I was wrong."
"Pasco, I—" Debbie started, but the flood of emotions stopped her.