A Night of Reflection
After their conversation, Debbie found herself walking aimlessly through the city. She ended up on a quiet street, the glow of lanterns reflecting o the river. Her mind raced with memories of their past: the promises, the heartbreak, the love that never quite left her.
She couldn't deny that seeing Pasco again had stirred something in her. But was it love, or just a longing for the familiarity of who she used to be?
Her phone buzzed. It was Felix.
Felix: Just checking in. Did you finish your volunteering today?
She smiled faintly. Felix had been her constant, her
anchor, during the storm of her emotions. But now,
with Pasco back, she felt the weight of unresolved
feelings threatening to pull her under again.
A Second Meeting
The next day, Pasco called her. "Can we meet again?
Please. I want to show you something."
Against her better judgment, she agreed. They drove to an art gallery on the outskirts of the city. It was quiet,almost deserted, the kind of place that felt like a sanctuary.
Pasco led her to a specific exhibit: architectural
sketches, precise and yet full of emotion.
"These are yours?" Debbie asked, surprised.
He nodded. "I've been working on these since I left
Bangkok. They're inspired by you. By us."
Debbie's breath caught as she examined the sketches.
There was one of a small café, eerily similar to the one they used to frequent. Another of a bridge overlooking a river, reminiscent of the nights they used to talk for hours about their dreams.
"I never stopped thinking about you, Debbie," Pasco said quietly. "Even when I thought I should."
Debbie's Turmoil
As Pasco dropped her o at her apartment, Debbie's mind was in chaos. His words, his presence, the weight of their shared history—it was all too much.
She spent the night staring at the ceiling, wondering if giving him another chance would mean betraying everything she'd worked so hard to rebuild.
The memory of Felix flashed in her mind. His quiet love, his unwavering support, his ability to make her laugh even when she wanted to cry.
But then there was Pasco—the first boy she ever truly loved. Could she really walk away from him now that he was trying to make amends?
Debbie buried her face in her hands, tears slipping
through her fingers. The path ahead felt more unclear than ever.