Then There Was Life

Hearing his report, I felt a sharp pain in my heart. Aunt said Roy was living a better life, but I still thought it was too dangerous. I didn't expect that he would get hurt in the mission Aunt Rose had given him.

"Can you quit this job?" I interrupted, cutting him off before he could report further.

"Callista," my aunt said, giving me a surprised look.

"I'm fine, miss," Roy responded with a warm smile directed at me.

I stood up and approached him, asking, "What time will the painting be delivered today?"

"Later tonight, at 8 p.m.," he replied.

"So we still have time then. Come with me." I reached out, grabbed his hand, and pulled him as I walked out of the study.

Roy glanced at my aunt, but she merely smiled and said, "Be back here before 7 p.m."

"But—" Roy started to insist, but I quickly pulled his hand, leaving the room with a smile. "Thanks, Aunt Rose! We'll be back on time," I called over my shoulder.

I opened the door and saw our bodyguards waiting outside the presidential suite.

"Don't follow us," I commanded.

"Miss, we need to escort you," Bert said worriedly.

"No, don't you see? I'm with Roy. It's safe," I said, pointing at him and winking.

Roy gave Bert a wary smile and said, "I'll take care of the young miss."

"I-I understand," Bert responded, hesitant.

"Thanks, Bert!" I said happily, grabbing Roy's hand and walking quickly before they could change their minds.

I saw Bert whisper into his covert microphone and then speak to the guards—clearly giving instructions. They might follow us secretly, but that's fine. I trust how sincere they are in their job, and I respect that.

"Your car?" I asked Roy as we stepped into the elevator.

"I didn't bring it," he replied.

"Then shall we take a taxi?" I suggested with a smile.

"Where to?" he frowned.

"What do you mean where? You're from here—just take me somewhere nice," I said, giving him a playful, slightly sad smile.

"What, are you a kid?" Roy teased, noticing my expression.

"What?!" I exclaimed, widening my eyes while smiling.

"You're still holding my hand, young miss," he responded, smiling back.

I bashfully withdrew my hand.

"Wow, no shyness at all! If I didn't know better, I'd say you like it," I teased, laughing.

He didn't reply, just smiled at me.

"We're outside now. Call me by my name," I said, smiling.

"But I'm still your guard," he rebutted.

"No buts," I said, raising my finger playfully yet firmly. "You have to agree."

"O-Okay," he nodded.

"And my name?" I prompted teasingly.

"Are you a kid?" he grinned, then exited the elevator ahead of me.

"Look at you!" I followed him outside.

We reached the lobby and asked the concierge to call a taxi. It arrived within minutes, and we didn't have to wait long.

"Good morning, Sir and Ma'am!" greeted the old driver.

"Good morning!" I responded with a smile as I stepped into the taxi.

Inside, I turned to Roy and asked, "Where are we going now?"

He looked at me, still lost in thought.

"New here in Manila? Why not BGC?" suggested the driver.

"I've heard about it. Let's try High Street," I nodded at the driver and looked at Roy with a smile.

"Sure. Let's go," he said, smiling.

"First date?" the driver asked, grinning as he started the engine.

"Yes!" I blurted out. Roy almost said no, but I elbowed him lightly.

The taxi rolled through Manila's familiar streets, and I couldn't help but smile at how much everything had changed—skyscrapers soaring higher, busier streets, yet somehow still full of life. It was a short ride, but a gentle reminder of how change can be both nostalgic and hopeful.

We traveled for nearly half an hour before reaching our destination. The old driver kept us entertained with stories along the way. I didn't realize how much I missed this country.

"Since you're just going to say 'I don't know' or 'Where do you want?' I'll check my phone to see where we should start," I said, mimicking Roy's usual tone.

I pulled out my phone and used an app to browse recommendations. Before coming to the Philippines to meet Roy, I had a plan—places I wanted to visit, things I wanted to say, things I wanted to do. But hearing his report earlier, I realized I needed to do something today—something unplanned.

"Here!" I said, happily pointing at my phone.

"La Posto?" Roy looked at my screen and asked.

"Yes, it's an Italian restaurant—cozy and quiet. You like Italian food, right?" I asked excitedly.

He thought for a moment and nodded.

"Not feeling it now?" I asked, curious.

"No, it's just been a while," he replied with a small smile.

I remembered we hadn't seen each other in ten years, and our contact had been sparse over the phone. Physically, it had been so long, and I missed so much. Yet, now I felt a sense of contentment. In the past, he always tried to avoid me, cutting off all contact. But this moment felt different—like an improvement. Maybe we'd both grown up, or perhaps he was just trying to forget everything that happened before.

The restaurant, 'La Posto,' was nearby. We strolled along High Street, where the morning buzz of shops and storefronts created a calm yet lively atmosphere. It was a quiet walk, and I found happiness just being with him—even without words. The gentle hum of conversations and the soft glow of morning light painted a peaceful scene.

"We're here," I said with a smile, holding his hand as I opened the door. He smiled softly, surprised but trusting, and followed me inside.

The cozy Italian restaurant buzzed with lively guests, warm lighting, and the aroma of pasta. In the background, classical music played, adding an elegant touch—creating a perfect blend of warmth and joy.

A waitress approached as soon as we sat down, handing us the menu. "Good morning!"

"Good morning!" I greeted politely as I accepted the menu.

Leaning in closer, I whispered, "I'll order. No ifs, and no buts."

I saw him reaching for his wallet, but I quickly assured him I'd take care of it.

The waitress, perhaps misunderstanding, smiled kindly. "We have a special menu for those on a date."

"Really?!" My eyes lit up with excitement.

I closed the menu and said, "We'll order that, plus two cups of Cioccolata Calda."

"Yes, ma'am!" she replied happily, repeating our order before heading to the kitchen.

We relaxed, soaking in the atmosphere and music as we waited. I glanced at Roy, reminiscing about his childhood. The most noticeable change was his height—he's grown so much taller, probably around six feet now. His sharply defined eyebrows and warm brown eyes were unchanged by time. It was incredible to see how much he'd grown.

"What?" he asked, frowning slightly and adjusting his suit.

"Nothing. Just enjoying the view," I replied, giving a light shake of my head.

He frowned but then smiled.

"Your hair isn't as curly as before. You're not a tree now," I remarked, returning his smile.

"Tell me, can you quit your job?" I asked suddenly.

He was surprised and answered, "I can't."

"But it's dangerous," I furrowed my brows in a cute frown.

He didn't answer and just looked away.

"Still looking for a place to die?" I sighed, deciding to ask seriously.

He looked at me, shocked, and hurriedly said, "No. That's not the case."

"Then what?" I pressed, wanting to understand.

"It's the other way around," he replied with a small smile.

"What?" I asked, curious.

He let out a deep sigh before continuing, "The missions keep me alive. Whenever we have a mission, I want to accomplish it. For that to happen, I need to be alive. That's why I accept the dangerous missions."

"Instead of people who don't want to die—or people you don't want to die—you're choosing those missions instead? At least if it's you, then that's it. If not, then the mission's considered done," I said softly, sadness creeping into my voice.

Hearing that, a wave of melancholy washed over me. I thought he had changed, but it seemed he'd just found another reason to justify his way of thinking.

At least he looks happy now? I thought. No! That's wrong. Somehow, he's faking it!

He opened his mouth to respond but said nothing.

"Are you still searching for your purpose?" I asked after a pause.

"I am trying to be the purpose," he replied quietly.

It seemed he remembered what I had told him before—rather than searching for a purpose in life, he was trying to become one.

The waitress arrived with our order, bringing a moment of normalcy back.

I smiled warmly at him and said, "Well, at least that's good."

Looking at the waitress approaching, I said, "It's fast! Thanks!"

I ended the heavy conversation there, deciding to enjoy the day and talk about other things another time. For now, I just wanted him to relax and enjoy himself.

Because I wanted to enjoy it with him.