As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows over the landscape, Erica and Sam walked back toward Aunt Nena's house. The day had been long, filled with fields, walking, and trying to adjust to the life she was beginning to realize might be more difficult than she had anticipated. The air was thick with the sounds of crickets and the soft rustling of leaves as a gentle breeze stirred the trees around them. The peacefulness of the countryside contrasted sharply with the turmoil churning inside Erica.
She glanced over at Sam, who walked beside her, his hands shoved casually in his pockets. The contrast between them could not have been more obvious. Why can't I be as relaxed as he is? Erica thought, her frustration rising again. He's always so calm, like he's immune to the weight of the world.
But the longer they walked in silence, the more Erica's mind churned. I need to let it out. The thought pushed its way to the surface, insistent and overwhelming. She took a deep breath, gathering the courage to break the silence.
Finally, she spoke up, her voice quieter than usual. "You don't really understand what it's like for me."
Sam stopped walking and turned to look at her, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. "What do you mean?" His voice was more curious than dismissive, a rarity for him.
Erica hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words, unsure of how to explain something so deeply ingrained in her. "In the city, I was always around people who expected so much from me. My friends are all wealthy and successful, and I feel this pressure to fit in." She paused, letting the words hang in the air, her throat tight as she tried to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to spill over.
It feels good to finally say it out loud. She wasn't used to being vulnerable, but something about the way Sam was looking at her made it easier.
"I just want to blend in, you know?" she continued, her voice cracking slightly. "I want to be someone they look up to. I don't want to be the odd one out." She lowered her gaze, feeling her heart beat faster. "But now, everything is so different. The responsibilities I have feel so heavy, like they're choking me. I'm stuck here, and I don't know how to escape."
Sam stood in silence, his expression unreadable, but his eyes softened as he listened. I didn't expect him to care. Her chest tightened with a mixture of gratitude and frustration.
Sam finally spoke, his voice quiet and thoughtful. "That sounds tough. But running away won't help. You need to face it, even if it's hard."
Erica clenched her fists at her sides, her frustration bubbling to the surface again. Easier said than done. "I understand that," she muttered. "But how can I do it? Every time I try to stand out, I just feel like I'm failing. Like I'm not enough." Her words came out in a rush, the weight of them finally lifting from her chest.
Sam was silent for a long moment, clearly thinking over what she said. When he spoke, his voice was steady and unwavering. "You are enough, Erica. Just because you're not like your friends doesn't mean you don't matter. Sometimes, you have to accept who you are, flaws and all."
Flaws? Erica frowned, her heart heavy. "But it seems like everyone expects perfection. I don't want to ruin their image of me."
Sam's gaze softened, and his tone remained calm. "Do you think they're perfect?" He shook his head slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Everyone has their own struggles. You're not alone in feeling insecure."
Erica felt a strange, flickering sense of relief wash over her, but it was quickly followed by doubt. Could it really be that simple? She glanced at Sam, still unsure. But why does he care? He always seems so indifferent, so distant. Yet here he was, patiently listening and offering advice when it felt like no one else ever did.
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of the conversation hanging between them. Erica didn't know what to say, so she simply let the silence stretch out.
"It's just so hard," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I wish I could be as confident as you."
Sam's expression shifted, and for the first time, Erica saw something close to vulnerability flicker in his eyes. "You see me as confident?" His voice was softer than usual, and he paused as if weighing his next words. "I have my own insecurities too."
Erica blinked, caught off guard. "Really? What do you have to be insecure about?"
Sam chuckled, the sound quiet and surprisingly light. "You'd be surprised. Everyone has their own battles. Just because I look grumpy doesn't mean I don't feel things."
Erica stopped walking for a moment, the words settling over her like a weight. He's not perfect either.
"I guess I never thought of it like that," she admitted, her voice unsteady. For a brief moment, she felt a warmth spread through her chest, as though something inside of her was beginning to shift.
They continued walking, but now the tension between them seemed to have dissolved, replaced by something quieter, more understanding. The path stretched ahead of them, and Erica felt like maybe - just maybe - she wasn't as alone in this as she had thought.
"Thanks for listening, Sam," Erica said after a while, her voice steadier now. "I didn't mean to dump all that on you."
Sam shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It's okay. I understand. Sometimes talking helps." He gave her a glance, his eyes softening. "Just remember, it's okay to be yourself, even if you're not perfect."
Why does he care? The question still lingered in Erica's mind, but now it wasn't as urgent, more like a passing curiosity. She couldn't understand it completely, but for once, she didn't mind.
As they neared the house, Erica felt the weight of the day's worries begin to lift, just a little. The quiet conversation had done more for her than she expected. Maybe we're not so different after all.
And for the first time in a long time, Erica felt a spark of hope ignite deep within her. Maybe accepting herself didn't have to be so hard. Maybe, with time and patience, she could start to feel okay about who she was - even if she wasn't perfect.
The evening air was cool and calming, and with Sam by her side, Erica felt like perhaps, for once, things were going to be alright.
*****
The morning sunlight poured through the windows, its warmth doing little to lift Erica's spirits. She sat at the dining table, poking at her breakfast of dry toast and black coffee. Aunt Nena bustled about the kitchen, preparing her basket for barangay duties.
"Erica, I have to head out now. You'll be on your own today," Aunt Nena said as she tied her scarf.
Erica frowned. "Wait, alone? All day? What am I supposed to do?"
"You could try helping out around the house," Aunt Nena suggested with a knowing smile. "It'll be good for you."
Erica groaned dramatically. "Housework? I don't even know where to start!"
Aunt Nena chuckled as she grabbed her basket. "Start anywhere. You'll figure it out. Just don't burn the house down."
"Not funny, Aunt Nena!" Erica called out as the older woman left, the sound of her laughter fading down the path. Erica sighed, resting her head on the table. How did my life come to this? She glanced around the small kitchen, feeling overwhelmed.
Sam had already left early for work without saying much more than a curt "morning." Lucky him.
By mid-morning, Erica decided she couldn't sit idle. How hard can cooking be? she thought, tying an apron around her waist. "I'll surprise them with a meal," she said to herself, already envisioning Aunt Nena and Sam's stunned faces when they tasted her food.
Her confidence faltered when she realized she didn't even know how to start cooking rice. She filled a pot with water, dumped in some rice, and set it on the stove. This should be easy enough.
Minutes later, she lifted the lid to check. The top looked dry, but the bottom smelled distinctly... burnt. She frowned, stirring it with a spoon. The rice stuck stubbornly to the bottom of the pot.
"Why won't you just cook properly?" she muttered, turning up the heat in frustration. Steam rose quickly, and the smell worsened.
Panicking, she turned off the stove and moved on to frying fish. Frying should be easier. Just flip it, right? She carefully placed the fish into the hot oil, which sizzled loudly and splattered her hand.
"Ouch!" she yelped, dropping the spatula. She glared at the fish, flipping it hastily. The delicate flesh crumbled into pieces.
"Ugh! This would never happen back home! Where's the chef when you need him?" she grumbled, tasting a piece of the fish. It was too salty, the texture rubbery. "Seriously, how hard can this be?"
Her attempts at cooking devolved into chaos. The kitchen was a mess, with bits of fish scattered on the counter and the lingering smell of burnt rice in the air.
Frustrated, Erica slumped into a chair and buried her face in her hands. I'm starving, and all I have is burnt rice and salty fish. The oppressive heat of the afternoon only added to her misery, and before long, exhaustion overtook her, and she dozed off at the table.
*****
When Sam returned home, the smell of burnt food hit him as soon as he stepped through the door. He paused, taking in the disaster in the kitchen: pots and pans everywhere, a pile of half-cooked rice in one corner, and Erica slumped over the table, fast asleep.
He shook his head, a small sigh escaping his lips. "What did you get yourself into this time?" he murmured.
He moved quietly, cleaning up the mess without waking her. As he scraped burnt rice from the pot, he glanced at her sleeping form. Despite her dramatic tendencies, she looked peaceful, her features soft in the glow of the afternoon light.
Sam prepared a simple meal - grilled fish, sautéed vegetables, and perfectly cooked rice. When everything was ready, he walked over and gently shook her shoulder.
"Hey, wake up. Come with me," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
Erica stirred, blinking groggily. "Huh? What? Is it... food?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep.
Sam smirked. "Yeah, it's food. Real food. Let's go."
Still embarrassed, Erica followed him outside, curious but wary. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see," Sam replied simply. They walked in silence, the cool breeze helping Erica shake off the last of her drowsiness.
When they arrived at a secluded river surrounded by tall trees, Erica stopped, her eyes widening. The gentle murmur of water flowing over rocks filled the air, and sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground.
"This is... beautiful," she said softly, her voice tinged with wonder.
Sam set down the food he'd packed and motioned for her to sit with him on a smooth rock near the water's edge. "You're hungry, aren't you?" he asked, handing her a bowl of rice and vegetables.
Erica took a bite, her eyes lighting up. "Wow... I really needed this. It's... really good." She paused, glancing down at her lap, embarrassed. "I didn't exactly... succeed in the kitchen."
Sam raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Figured that out when I saw the burnt rice," he teased.
She groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I'm just... not used to this."
His expression softened as he handed her a piece of fish. "You'll get the hang of it. Takes time, that's all."
They ate in comfortable silence, the sounds of nature filling the gaps. Erica looked around, feeling a strange sense of peace she hadn't expected. I didn't know I could feel this calm out here, she thought, sneaking a glance at Sam as he leaned back, looking perfectly at home.
After they finished eating, Sam stared out at the water, his gaze distant. "Whenever things get rough, I come here," he said quietly. "Clears my head."
Erica tilted her head, surprised. "I never thought you'd need that," she admitted. "You always seem so... unshakable."
Sam let out a low chuckle. "Trust me, I'm not. Everyone needs a place like this."
She hesitated, then leaned her head against his shoulder. At first, she worried he'd pull away, but he stayed still, letting her rest.
As she leaned against him, Erica felt a warmth she hadn't expected, a sense of safety that was both foreign and comforting. Why does this feel so... right? she wondered, her eyes growing heavy. Before she knew it, she had drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
*****
A while later, Sam glanced down and noticed she was completely asleep. He sighed softly, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "Well, looks like the little princess fell asleep," he murmured. His gaze lingered on her peaceful face. "Still looks pretty, even though she's a lunatic and dramatic."
Carefully, he lifted her into his arms. As he walked back toward the house, he muttered to himself, "What are you doing, Sam? Are you falling in love, you stupid fool?" Despite his words, the smile on his face didn't fade.
When they arrived, Aunt Nena opened the door, her face filled with concern. "What happened to her?" she asked, her voice hushed.
"She's just tired," Sam replied, carrying Erica inside.
He laid her gently on her bed, pulling a blanket over her. Sitting down beside her, he intended to leave after a moment, but as he leaned back, exhaustion overtook him, and he drifted off to sleep.
Aunt Nena peeked into the room and smiled at the sight of them both fast asleep. Erica had curled closer to Sam, her hand resting lightly on his arm. "They look so sweet together," Aunt Nena whispered to herself, closing the door quietly to let them rest in peace.