How are you?
"Here," he said, offering me his handkerchief.
My gaze lingered on him, now taking in the visible scars on his forehead. Despite my curiosity, I hesitated to ask, feeling reluctant. He initiated the conversation apologetically, "I'm sorry for pretending not to know you."
I smiled, "It's better that way. I don't want Miyah or Ken to find out either," I lied. "I've gotten used to this setup."
The rain finally caught up with us in Cebu as we journeyed back to Manila, and to make matters worse, our car broke down on a lonely road. Stranded in the middle of nowhere, neither of us was familiar with the surroundings. Drenched from the relentless rain and with my phone rendered lifeless, I instructed him to ask for help.
"My phone's dead. Why not ask for help? So we can leave," I suggested.
"That's a good idea. Could you please retrieve my phone and dial Tita Alice's number?" he urged, his attention fixed on inspecting the car.
Should I be the one to call?