It's Not Personal, It's Official Business.

CHAPTER THREE " The Beginning"

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I usually wake up late because I sleep late. But after everything that happened the night before, I was surprised to find myself awake as early as 8 in the morning.

And the feeling was different.

For a moment, I just lay there, realizing that I was alive, breathing… and waking up beside someone who looked like an angel.

She looked peaceful while sleeping. Beautiful, even in silence.

So I stayed there for a minute or two just watching her, memorizing the calm look on her face.

Then I leaned closer and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead.

That did the trick.

She slowly opened her eyes, a little surprised to see me beside her. But then she smiled and greeted me with a quiet “Good morning.”

Just like that, our weekend began.

She said she was hungry and offered to grab us something to eat. She ordered food online, and while we waited for it to arrive, we kept talking.

I told her about my situation—that I was planning to work from home for a while. My condition was still a bit critical. I was under medication and couldn’t overexert myself, or my heart might give out, and my blood pressure could spike.

The problem was that our house wasn’t exactly the best place for a work-from-home setup.

That’s when she made an offer.

She said I could work there, at her place.

After all, she lived alone.

If I remembered correctly, we had already talked about this briefly before our trip to Batangas. She had even shown me the extra room in her two-bedroom apartment—the one she wasn’t using.

She said I could temporarily turn it into my workspace, and once my shift was over, I could go home again. That way, her personal space would still remain safe and respected.

After all, we were still strangers in many ways.

I told her I needed to think about it first. I was still employed in an on-site setup, and it wasn’t something I could just leave behind overnight.

So instead, I asked if I could go home for a bit after we ate so I could grab some clothes. I hadn’t brought anything with me when I rushed to see her the night before.

Her response felt… distant.

She smiled, but there was something quiet about it.

I figured maybe it had something to do with my hesitation earlier. I didn’t want her to think I was rejecting her offer. The truth was the opposite—I just didn’t want to invade a place that meant so much to her without being careful about it.

After we finished eating, I told her I had to head home for a bit.

Before leaving, I remembered something she said earlier—she loved fried chicken.

I knew a place that had really good flavors to choose from, so I promised her that when I came back, I would bring some for her.

She smiled and said okay.

But it sounded a little monotone.

Still smiling, but not quite excited.

I said goodbye and rushed home to grab some clothes.

Truthfully, my plans weren’t even clear yet. Even my parents were curious about why I suddenly came home just to pack things.

As promised, I ordered from that fried chicken place online and waited for the delivery to arrive.

Once it did, I headed back to her place.

When I knocked on her door and she opened it, her eyes widened.

Her jaw almost dropped when she saw the big chicken box in my hands.

She couldn’t believe it.

She couldn’t believe there were two different flavors either.

I told her to try the one labeled “Crowd Favorite.”

She took a bite.

And the reaction on her face was priceless.

The flavors burst in her mouth, and she started enjoying every piece of it.

Seeing her that happy made me happy too.

But I couldn’t help wondering why she reacted like a child tasting fried chicken for the first time.

Then she explained.

She said that whenever she used to ask her ex to bring home fried chicken, he would always come back with barbecue chicken instead—which she didn’t even like.

She appreciated the fact that someone finally remembered what she actually wanted.

And for the first time, she got exactly that.

After our little feast, we decided to have our own living-room concert.

We watched a prerecorded live performance on a streaming platform. Her favorite band was Parokya ni Edgar, and we sang along like we were part of the crowd.

Lights off.
Air-conditioning running.
The concert playing on a 42-inch TV.

In our heads, we were sitting in the VIP section.

She told me she was supposed to attend one of their concerts before, with her ex. She had already bought the tickets and the merchandise.

But things fell apart before they ever got to go.

The tickets were non-refundable.

So that night, I tried to give her at least a small piece of that dream, even if it was just the two of us singing loudly in her living room.

Eventually, the music stopped.

And the mood shifted.

The laughter faded.

She told me something carefully.

She said she didn’t want to hurt me, but she wasn’t sure if she should follow what she was feeling right now.

I moved closer to her and made sure we didn’t break eye contact.

I wanted to understand everything.

Looking into her eyes, I could see more than most people probably did.

I saw the scars she tried to hide from the rest of the world.

And in that moment, this person who had been a stranger to me just days ago felt like someone I had known for a long time.

I could see my reflection in her eyes, like they were inviting me to step into her world.

She opened herself up to me.

And I didn’t want to miss the chance to tell her that I was there because I chose to be.

Even if she was dealing with something serious… I wanted to be part of it.

I knew what I was signing up for.

She hesitated and slowly turned her head away, breaking eye contact.

But I gently stopped that.

I didn’t want her to think this would be another disappointment.

So I told her that no matter what happened in the end, I didn’t want to miss the chance to be there for her—to make even the smallest difference in her life after everything she had been through.

Then suddenly, she smiled.

But tears were forming in her eyes.

She was embarrassed for me to see her like that. She wanted people to see her as strong and fearless—not vulnerable.

But I moved closer and wrapped my arms around her again, reminding her that she didn’t have to be strong all the time.

I told her that even if someday she realized she didn’t feel the same way about me, I would still be grateful just to have been part of her life.

She was afraid to make a decision.

So I helped her.

It might have been fast, but I told her the truth.

I liked her.

Then I removed the big silver ring from my finger and handed it to her. I called her name softly and said I love you.

I kissed her on the forehead.
Then on the nose.
And finally on the lips.

She laughed a little and complained that the ring was too big for her finger.

So she asked if she could trade it for my other ring—the simple black one.

Then she told me something that stayed with me.

She said our beginning had actually started the moment she allowed me into her home.

That place was sacred to her.

Only her brother and a few technicians who installed her Wi-Fi had ever stepped that far inside her life.

And now… I had to.

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I couldn’t explain the happiness I felt in that moment.

I was excited—not just for what we were, but for everything we might discover together.