The ringing phone echoes around the cold, empty house as I laze around in the only warmth I have; my bed. I wait for the voice mail to answer when a familiar voice clearly plays, jarring me awake.

“Um, hello? Hi, this is, well… I hope you do remember me.”

I blink, getting angry.

“I hope you do remember me?” I growl in annoyance.

I wish I could forget if she’d let me. Why did she made me believe that what we had was real?

“It’s Dara… Or, um, Sandara. I heard from our friends that… Ah, anyways, do you want to meet up at the restaurant at 2 PM? Um… I’ll be there. I hope you’ll come, even if it’s just for me. Thanks.”

Is this really happening?

Is she really inviting me at our favorite restaurant?

What does she want? What if she wants me back? What if she misses me?

I shake my head as I sit up, dryly laughing at my pathetic self.

I can’t think ahead. I can’t.

Woman up, I chuckle as I hear her voice like an echo resonating around the room. Checking the time, I scurry in the bathroom to have a quick shower before pausing.

I have around two hours, I thought. I don’t need to rush.

Casually walking around to gather the items that I need, I couldn’t help but become eager with excitement.

---

Arriving at our usual meet-up place, a quiet coffee house, I remembered to come 5- okay, 10 minutes early (which, for today, isn’t quite hard to do considering how eager I am) which is to her liking. Dara thinks being early is important and tardiness is unacceptable. I shake my head, remembering the silly things that I would do just to arrive on time, if not early.

I tap my fingers nervously on the table as I waited, imagining how this conversation might go. The good way, which I was hoping it would go, or the bad way. The good way would be her coming back to me, and the bad way is her, well, not.

I shake my head. This is seriously going to drive me crazy. I remember when we first met and tried to get close by playing the game, 2 truths, 1 lie, leading me to start to get lost in the memories of our meaningful conversations, playing, and just spending time together.

“Ugh,” Dara threw her phone on my bed beside me and pouted.

“What’s wrong?”

She nudged her protruding lip on the phone and I picked it up as curiosity got the best of me.

I started to chuckle as I notice the problem.

“You’re jealous of your sister?”

Dara threw herself beside me as she covers her eyes with her arm and sighed.

“You think it’s ludicrous, don’t you?”

“No, I do not.”

“Yes, you do!” She groaned and rolled over, her back facing me.

“No,” I vehemently denied as I comforted her by giving her a back hug. “Babe, look at me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Babe.”

“No.”

“Babe.”

Reluctantly, she slowly turned around, the pout still on her lips.

“What?”

I laughed boisterously as I gathered her in my arms, smelling the glorious scent she gives off.

“Damn, what did I ever do to receive such an adorable yet dependable woman?”

Dara rolled her eyes, but a smile replaced the pout.

“I think you’re cuter and more beautiful that your sister,” I tapped her nose and grinned. “Don’t mind those people.”

“Those people are my relatives,” Dara grumbles. “And all they notice is my sister. I’m in the picture too! I also received that award that she got! I even got an award that she didn’t get! Why don’t they recognize me?”

I looked at her, confused.

“Our family friend specifically asked for my sister to help her with the wedding of her daughter and I also attended the bridal shower, where I me