Between Then and Now

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Bonita

I think I’m crazy. Because I swear I heard Ryan’s voice saying my name. I look back and see him panting as he walks up to our door. I blink my eyes to make sure I’m not conjuring him from missing him too much. But each blink only brings him closer. So, it is real. He’s really here.

“You’re not supposed to be back for another week,” I say as Ryan makes his way through the door. It’s dark inside, and we’re both too stunned to even attempt to turn on the lights.

“I know.” He enters the house with me, and we both just stand there, illuminated by only the moonlight and the streetlights peering through the door and the windows. “I also know that you need time, but I feel like I just have to tell you… Do you want me to leave?” he asks when I don’t respond.

“No,” I say too quickly. I don’t need any more time. I know what I want, and he’s right in front of me. “What do you have to tell me?” I ask, savoring every bit of him. His hair is a hot mess–probably from walking around all night. And he’s wearing a plain shirt that accentuates all the right muscles on his body, and…

“Wait,” I say, squinting to get a better view. “Are those… jorts?” I burst into laughter at the sight. Contrary to what we’ve discussed all those weeks ago, Ryan looks good in them—surprisingly good.

“Told you I’d take your breath away,” he grins, and I laugh even harder, shaking my head.

“Well, mission accomplished,” I catch my breath, my laughter subsiding into a genuine smile. “Now, what was it you wanted to tell me? ”

His eyes soften, and he takes a step closer.”First, you look beautiful, Bon.” He smiles, scanning me from head to toe. “And congratulations on your award, you deserve it.”

“Wouldn’t have done it without you,” I say. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. “The real reason I’m here is because I feel like I haven’t told you what really matters.”

My voice quivers as I ask, “What matters?”

“That I love you, Bon. I’m in love with you. And I think I have been for the longest time.” He walks closer to me. “I came all the way here because I can’t spend another day knowing you’re doubting yourself. That you’re worrying about things that won’t happen. That you’re stressing yourself out. I can’t just stay there while you’re like this. What’s exactly worrying you, Bon?”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I blink them away, trying to keep my composure. “I–I’m worried that I’m not gonna be enough for you,” I whisper, my voice breaking.

“You are more than enough,” he says firmly, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re everything, Bon. You’re the light in my life, the one who makes everything better just by being there. You don’t even have to try.”

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. “I’m scared,” I admit, my voice trembling. “Scared that if I let you in, you’ll see all my flaws and you’ll leave.”

He shakes his head, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’ve seen your flaws, Bon. I’ve seen your fears, your doubts, your insecurities. And I love you more because of them. They make you who you are. They make you real. And I wouldn’t want you any other way. ”

His words pierce through the walls I’ve built around my heart, breaking them down piece by piece. “And what if I mess up?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he says, his hand slipping from my cheek to entwine with mine. “Relationships aren’t about being perfect. They’re about growing together, supporting each other, and loving each other despite the imperfections. I want to be there for you, Bon. Through the good times and the bad. Through every laugh and every tear. Please… let me.” He pleads like I hold his life in my hands. How in the world do I deserve this perfection of a man?

“Bon, don’t get me wrong,” he says after some time. “I can—I will—give you the space you want, if you still want it. I just came here so I can tell you that I love you. And no, you don’t even have to tell me that you love me back. I have enough love for both of us. And I’ll wait. No matter how long it takes. If that’s what you want.”

I can’t help but laugh a bit. “I can’t believe this,” I say.

“Why?”

“Because! You’re unbelievable!” I say. “I’m the one who left you with a note after we slept together. I’m the one who should be convincing you to let me in, to forgive me, and to give me a chance. I’m the one who should be telling you all these things.

“I’ve been thinking about how to tell you everything when you get back, but you’re here and this is all just too much, and I can’t believe it. You’re saying you accept me for all I am but that terrifies me because no one has ever wanted all of me. Or the parts that aren’t bright and shiny. No one has ever looked at me like that. I don’t know what I did to deserve all this. And I have to know. I have to know so I can keep doing it and you’re gonna keep doing this, and–”

“Bon,” he says, cutting through my rambling with a soft, amused tone. “I missed your yapping.”

I scowl at him playfully, but a smile is already forming on my lips, the tension melting away. “Go ahead, then. Tell me what you want to tell me,” he continues.

“Okay, uh…” I start. “Ugh. When did you become the articulate one? I can’t even start without losing my focus.”

He shrugs. “Someone told me to just be myself and not overthink it.”

I smile slightly and I shake my head to regain composure. “I guess I love you too.”

“You guess?” he asks, frowning adorably.

I chuckle. “I love you too, Miller. I do. And I’d be lying if I say that I haven’t for a while now.” I take a step closer to him and hold his hand in mine. “You’re the only one who’s ever seen me like this, and not once did I hear you complain. You’re just… there. And it feels right. No matter what I tell myself, this feels right.”

“It is right,” he says with conviction, his eyes never leaving mine. “And I’m here to stay, whether you believe you deserve it or not. And I will remind you that you do. You deserve everything, Bonbon.”

I nod, smiling at him. I put my hand on the back of his head, my fingers intertwining in his hair. I place my other hand on his chest as he holds me by my waist and pulls me close.

“I want this. I want us. I don’t know what the future holds, and it scares me. But I want to face it with you.”

He smiles, his eyes shining with affection. “Then let’s do it. Let’s take it one day at a time. ”

I nod, my heart swelling with a mix of love and hope. “One day at a time.”

“And today,” he says, his voice dropping to a tender murmur, “is the first of many days where I get to tell you that I love you.”

And then I close the gap between us.

Every kiss I shared with Ryan is different. The first kiss was hesitant, full of complications and the weight of unspoken words. It was the kind of kiss that left you wondering, questioning everything that came before and everything that might follow. The lighthouse kisses were tinged with self-doubt, a desperate attempt to understand emotions we weren’t ready to face, filled with the fear of what might go wrong. The kisses in our room in the inn were hot and heavy.

But this kiss—this one is perfect.

It starts softly, almost shyly, as if we’re both savoring the moment, committing it to memory. His lips are warm and familiar. His hand gently cradles the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair and anchoring me to him in the most tender way. I can feel the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my fingertips, matching the beat of my own, as if our bodies are syncing, finding their own perfect harmony.

As the kiss deepens, I lose myself in the sensation of it—the softness of his lips, the way he tilts his head to fit perfectly with mine, the warmth of his breath mingling with my own.

“Ahem.”

I freeze at the sound of a throat clearing. I open my eyes to see Ryan, equally wide-eyed. The house, which had been comfortably dim, is now flooded with light so bright that my eyes have to adjust. I squint a few times until it hits me—there are more than a dozen pairs of eyes staring right at us .

Our living room is set up with streamers and banners that say “Congratulations.” From a distance, I can see the dining table decorated with different kinds of food.

“Well, shit,” Ryan mutters, loosening his hold on me but keeping one hand firmly in mine. “So, this is where everybody is.” He looks at Manang Linda and says, “You didn’t tell me.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Manang Linda shrugs. I shake my head at her obvious amusement. “I told you, everybody. These two will come home with more than just memories.” She smiles and proceeds to the kitchen, the very picture of nonchalance.

“What the hell?” I stammer, looking around in disbelief at the unexpected audience.

“We were supposed to surprise you after your award,” Haley says, stepping forward from the back of the room, “but we got carried away with the free romcom.”

“And none of you thought to make your presence known before we, you know, made out in front of everyone?” I shout, half in shock, half in embarrassment.

“Well, we didn’t want to interrupt the big confession,” my mom chimes in, looking far too amused by the situation. “We did try to very subtly hint at our presence when you started kissing, though.”

“But you two wouldn’t budge; Haley was actually the third person to clear her throat,” Richard adds, casually munching on a piece of fried chicken. Tita Frances swats his hand, scolding him to stop eating and wait for everyone.

Ryan takes charge, raising his voice over the murmur of the crowd. “Okay, people. I’m not usually one to break up a gathering, but as you can see, we’re kind of in the middle of something important.” He tightens his grip on my hand and pulls me toward the door.

“Byeeeee!” I call out, following him without hesitation.

“Okay, that’s just wrong. It’s not like we won’t know what happens next—” Haley starts to say, but Ryan shuts the door firmly before she can finish.

“There’s something else, Bon,” he says as we’re free of the audience. He motions to a dog crate behind me. “I dropped him off earlier today, before I went looking for you.”

I peek in the cage and see Puppy, wagging his tail. I open the door immediately, and he jumps into my arms. “Hey, Puppy! I missed you so much, oh my god!” He licks my face, and I laugh. I turn to Ryan and say, “Do we have to name him now?”

“I suppose so. Do you have anything in mind?” he asks as he holds one of Puppy’s paws.

“How about ‘Lighthouse’? Or ‘Eight’, ‘cos, you know it was the room we shared? Or ooooh, how about ‘Rain Cloud’?” I say as we walk down the steps of my house.

I turn to Ryan who’s looking at me intently. “We’ll figure it out.” He takes Puppy—Lighthouse-Eight-Rain Cloud—from me and holds my hand.

We can still hear the muffled voices of our friends and family on the other side of the door, but right now, none of that matters. Ryan turns to me, his eyes full of love and determination, and kisses me one more time. Again, this kiss is different—it’s filled with promises, the kind that speak of the future we’re going to build together, one day at a time.