Chapter 27: Don't Let Go Yet
Incheon International Airport, Departure Day
The hallways were wide, clean, and filled with people rushing to catch flights, waving goodbye, or embracing arrivals. The dull voice of the announcer echoed every few minutes. But to Erica, the sound that cut the deepest was the one inside her chest—the quiet rhythm of her heartbeat as it thudded slowly, painfully, toward goodbye.
She stood beside Jepoy in the departure lobby, her cane tucked under her arm. Her hair was tied in a low ponytail, and she wore a cream-colored sweater—the one he once told her reminded him of calm.
He hadn’t let go of her hand since they left the taxi.
“I’m sorry this is the best we got for a last day,” Jepoy said, trying to joke, but his voice cracked at the edges.
“I don’t care where we are,” she answered softly. “As long as you’re beside me.”
And yet, in minutes, he wouldn’t be.
They sat on the bench near the check-in counter. His flight to Manila was scheduled in less than an hour. He had already checked in his luggage. All that was left was the goodbye they didn’t want to say.
“Do you remember the first day we met?” Erica asked, brushing her thumb against the bracelet on her wrist—the one with the Braille beads spelling her name.
“Of course,” Jepoy smiled. “You were being stubborn.”
“I still am,” she replied with a grin.
“I like that about you,” he said, turning serious. “You didn’t let the world dim you. Even when you couldn’t see it anymore.”
Erica inhaled slowly. “You helped me see it in another way.”
Silence.
The kind that hurt.
Jepoy reached into his backpack and pulled out a small leather journal.
“What’s this?” she asked as he placed it in her hands.
“I wrote things,” he said. “While we were together. My thoughts. My favorite moments. Stories I never told you because I was scared. Now, I want you to read them. When you miss me. Or when you’re mad. Or when you want to remember I was real.”
She hugged it to her chest.
“I wish we had more time,” she whispered.
“Me too.”
“But I understand,” she added. “Your family needs you. Your father needs you. And maybe…” she paused, swallowing the lump in her throat, “maybe distance will teach us something.”
Jepoy held her face gently, thumbs brushing against her cheeks. “If I could stay, I would. If I could bring you with me—”
“You’d carry me on your back,” she teased.
“I would,” he smiled. “No hesitation.”
The final boarding call echoed overhead.
Erica’s grip on his hand tightened. “Don’t go yet.”
He leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. “Give me one reason to stay.”
Her lips trembled. “Because you’re the only one who made me feel seen even when I was blind.”
And with that, Jepoy kissed her.
Soft. Slow. Like a promise stitched in silence.
He broke away first, wiping his eyes quickly.
“I’ll be back,” he said. “I don’t know when, but I will.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
They stood slowly, the moment stretching like elastic between them, threatening to snap.
At the departure gate, security began waving passengers forward. Jepoy looked back one last time.
Erica was still standing there, her hand clutched to her chest, holding the journal, her face turned toward the sound of his steps—like she could feel the exact moment he was no longer near.
And just before he disappeared behind the security gate, she whispered, brokenly:
“Please, don’t let go yet…”
But he already had.
And it would be weeks before the sun would feel warm again.
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