She didn't sleep that night.
Her phone buzzed with three missed calls and a message from Raymond:
"I crossed a line. I'm sorry. If you want to report me, I won't stop you."
She didn't reply.
Not because she didn't have anything to say - but because everything she wanted to say would make her sound like a girl who felt something. And that was unacceptable.
She wasn't that girl.
Not the girl who blushed when a boss kissed her.
Not the girl who cried when boundaries blurred.
Not the girl who ever let her armor crack.
But there she was at 2:47 AM, lying on her bed, replaying that moment like a scene she wished she could un-write.
And somehow, what unsettled her the most wasn't that he kissed her.
It was that for a breath, she didn't hate it.
She hated herself for that more than anything.
The next morning, she showed up at her usual cafe- dark circles under her eyes, walls fully up - and Caloy was already there, sipping iced coffee like he hadn't just texted her "are you okay?" five times.
She sat down across from him without a word.
"You look like you fought a demon," he said gently.
She stared at her cup. "Something like that."
He waited. He was always patient, always calm in the face of her storms. It made it harder.
"Raymond kissed me."
His grip tightened slightly around his cup. "You okay?"
"I'm fine."
A lie.
"Did you want it?"
"I didn't not want it. That's the problem."
He nodded slowly, gaze steady. "Do you want him?"
She looked away. "I don't trust him."
"That's not what I asked."
"It's the only thing that matters."
He leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice low. "You trust me."
"That's different."
"Why?"
"Because you're not trying to ruin me. He could."
Caloy let out a quiet breath. "Gigi, you've spent so long running from love that you forgot not everything that looks like affection is a trap."
"You don't understand - "
"I do. Your dad cheated. Your brother lies. Your whole family turns women into ash. I get it."
Her throat tightened.
"I grew up watching my mom cry every time my dad didn't come home," Caloy continued. "I know what love can destroy. But I also know it's not the feeling that's the enemy. It's the person who misuses it."
Gigi didn't answer. Her eyes burned. She hated crying in public, but Caloy was the only person whose presence didn't feel like exposure.
He reached out, his hand grazing hers just enough to say, You're not alone.
"Loving someone doesn't mean you owe them anything," he added. "But refusing to feel anything at all... that's just another kind of prison."
Gigi looked at him, finally, and whispered, "What if I don't know how to get out?"
He smiled softly. "Then I'll wait by the gate. Until you're ready."
The silence between them wasn't heavy - it was healing.
For the first time in years, Gigi realized maybe it wasn't love she hated.
Maybe it was the version she'd grown up with.
And maybe - just maybe - there was a different version waiting for her.
One she could trust.
One she wouldn't have to fear.
One that looked a lot like the boy sitting across from her with quiet eyes and unwavering hands.