Ch 3

The sun rose over Brisbane City like it had every day — indifferent, golden, spilling across the skyscrapers and bouncing off the river. And yet, for me, the world felt muted.

I sat on my balcony, mug of black coffee in hand, staring at the city below. The sounds of traffic, the ferries on the river, the faint chatter from the street — all were familiar, comforting even. But none of it could erase the memory of last night.

Lea.

Her voice. Her eyes. The way she had sung "Baby, Now That I've Found You"... I could still hear it in my head. Each note lodged itself in my chest, a sweet ache that made it impossible to breathe normally.

I should have been proud of myself. I didn't run to her. I didn't let the years of longing undo all the work I'd done for myself. I had held firm, as I promised I would.

And yet, every fiber of me wanted to reach out — to go back in time, to take her hand, to stay in the theatre until the song played again and again.

But I didn't. I couldn't.

I have responsibilities. I have a life I've built carefully, piece by piece — nursing degree completed, med school looming, years of effort to become someone whole, someone capable of loving without abandoning myself. I cannot let a single night, however electric, undo all of that.

I put my mug down and closed my eyes. The apartment was quiet, but my mind was a riot of memories: the bench near the river where I had watched the lights shimmer alone, the echo of her laughter, her eyes locking on mine in that fleeting moment on stage.

I've missed her. God, how I've missed her. But longing, even when it burns, is not enough to undo the choices we make for ourselves.

I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled, trying to settle the storm inside. The city below moved on. I would, too. Slowly. One step at a time.

Still, somewhere deep in my chest, a small voice whispered: She's here again. And you're still alive to see her.

It was not closure. It was not reunion. It was... possibility.

And for the first time in five years, that possibility felt almost like hope.

I turned from the balcony, back to my notes, my textbooks, the rhythm of my own life. Lea was a song I hadn't forgotten, a melody that would always be mine. But I was still Rafaelle. Still standing. Still in Brisbane City.

And I would not falter. Not yet.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed on the table, shattering the fragile quiet.

I fumbled for it, heart skipping — a familiar hope rising that it might be her. Maybe she's calling. Maybe she...

The screen lit up: Ate Ava.

I exhaled, a small, disappointed laugh escaping me. Somehow, even after five years, I had expected it to be Lea.

"Rafaelle," Ava's voice came sharp but warm, like she always did when she meant business. "Are you sitting down?"

I sank deeper into the chair. "Yeah, I'm fine. What's up?" My voice sounded too calm, too measured, even though my chest was still hammering from last night.

"Med school, Rafaelle Ramone. Harvard called."

My heart skipped. My eyes widened. "Harvard?"

"Yes. They want you after you finish UQ. Your specialisation. You have a real shot, Rafaelle. This is... huge. You can't mess this up."

I blinked, letting it sink in. Harvard. My future. The path I'd fought for so long to carve out. Every sleepless night, every patient I'd tended, every textbook I'd lugged across Brisbane City — it all suddenly pointed to this.

"I... I didn't know," I admitted softly.

"You did, actually," Ava said, almost teasing. "You always did. But now, it's official. They want you. And I'm telling you this because you need to start thinking strategically. Don't let anything — or anyone — derail this, Rafaelle. I know what's been distracting you."

I swallowed, heat rising in my cheeks. "Ate naman, it's just — I'm not distracted. I'm... focused. I just..." My voice faltered. "It's been a lot lately. Personal stuff."

Ava's tone softened. "I know. And I don't mean to pressure you. But this is your shot. Your life. Don't let it slip. After UQ, Harvard is waiting. Your future is waiting. You can't let it be held back by anything — or anyone."

I nodded, though she couldn't see me. "I understand. I... thank you, ate."

The line went silent for a beat. And in that silence, my thoughts drifted — inevitably, inexorably — back to last night. To Lea. To her voice, to those haunting words: I need you so. Baby, even though you don't need me. You don't need me no, no.

I closed my eyes and exhaled, the weight of the city pressing against my chest. Harvard. UQ. My future. Responsibility. My dreams.

And then there was her.

Lea.

Somehow, the world had demanded I choose. And I had — for now.

I opened my eyes and looked out at the river. The ferries glided beneath the Victoria Bridge, and the city hummed along, indifferent to my longing.

I pressed the phone back onto the table. My future was calling. But my heart... my heart still whispered her name.