Saturday night. Tahimik ang paligid sa rooftop ng condo ni Marco. City lights flickered below, habang malamig ang hangin na dumadampi sa balat.
Isabelle leaned against the railing, arms crossed, still processing everything Marco said earlier.
"Different enough to try…" she whispered under her breath.
"Hindi ka pa rin tapos mag-isip, no?" Marco's voice came from behind her.
She glanced at him. "Can you blame me?"
He sighed, walking closer until he stood beside her. "Fair point."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn't awkward—it was heavy. Like both of them were carrying something they didn't know how to say.
"Why me?" Isabelle asked suddenly.
Marco frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Why is it different with me?" she clarified, turning to face him. "You said it yourself—you don't do serious. So why now?"
Marco looked away, jaw tightening slightly.
"Marco…" she pressed softly.
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Because I've done serious before."
Isabelle froze.
"And it didn't end well," he added quietly.
She softened. "Your ex?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
Isabelle hesitated. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "You deserve to know… especially if you're going to keep standing here with me."
Her heart skipped at his words, but she stayed quiet, letting him continue.
"I gave everything to her," Marco began, his voice calm but laced with something deeper. "Time, effort, loyalty… everything. I thought… she was it. Endgame."
Isabelle felt her chest tighten.
"But one day," he continued, "I found out she was seeing someone else. For months."
"What?" Isabelle whispered, shock evident in her voice.
Marco gave a small, humorless laugh. "Yeah. Funny, right? I was busy building a future for us… habang siya, she was already walking away."
"That's… that's horrible," Isabelle said softly.
"It was," he admitted. "And after that, I promised myself—never again. No serious relationships. No expectations. No chance to get hurt like that."
Isabelle looked at him, seeing him differently now. Not just the confident, charming guy—but someone who had been broken… and never fully healed.
"So all of this…" she said slowly, "your jokes, your flirting… it's your way of protecting yourself?"
Marco smirked faintly. "Something like that."
Silence fell again, but this time, it felt more vulnerable.
"Then why risk it?" Isabelle asked gently. "Why risk getting hurt again?"
Marco turned to her, his eyes softer than she had ever seen.
"Because of you."
Her breath caught.
"You're not like her," he continued. "You're real. Honest. You challenge me… you don't just go along with everything. And somehow… you make me want to believe again."
Isabelle felt her walls start to crack.
"But that's the scary part," Marco added quietly. "Because if I try again… and it fails… I don't know if I can recover from that."
She swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. "And what if it doesn't fail?"
Marco held her gaze. "Then maybe… it's worth everything."
The city lights reflected in their eyes as they stood there, closer than ever, the distance between them no longer just physical—but emotional.
And for the first time, Isabelle understood—
Marco wasn't afraid of love.
He was afraid of losing it.