Signs Left Behind
Chapter 11 - Moalboal Life
On June 12th, the Philippines celebrated its independence from Spanish rule, and the entire community of Moalboal buzzed with anticipation. The streets glowed with lanterns, flower crowns, and banners swaying in the warm evening breeze. Families gathered, sharing meals and laughing, while the scent of grilled food drifted through the air.
Matthew didn’t plan on attending, but the nurses refused to take no for an answer. To them, he was part of the community now, and his presence was considered a sign of good fortune.
Months ago, he would have done anything to avoid a celebration like this. But that day, something felt different. When he reluctantly agreed to go, he surprised even himself. And before he could think twice, he extended the invitation to Isabel.
They hadn’t seen each other since that day at the secret place. Their only connection was through messages—brief glimpses into each other’s lives. But the distance only made him more aware of her presence in his thoughts. He found himself reaching for his phone, waiting for her name to appear.
He hadn’t rationalized it yet, but deep down, he knew—what he felt for Isabel wasn’t the same as what he felt for his patients or colleagues. But his mind refused to label it. He wasn’t ready for that, not after spending so much time keeping her at arm’s length.
And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Even in his dreams, she appeared, smiling at him, bringing a sense of peace to nights that were once filled with nothing but noise.
That evening, standing at the edge of the pier, waiting for her, Matthew shifted restlessly. The air was thick with the scent of salt and grilled food, the sound of waves blending with the distant hum of laughter. He watched the crowd, scanning for her face, and felt an unfamiliar tension settle in his chest.
He wasn’t sure what that night would bring. All he knew was that he wanted to see her.
The sky burned with the last light of the day, the ocean stretching endlessly before him. He heard laughter from the distant beach where the celebrations were already in full swing. But he didn’t focus on any of that. He waited for her.
Then, soft footsteps sounded on the wooden pier. He turned.
Isabel walked toward him, bathed in golden light. The breeze played with her hair, and for a moment, he just watched her—the way she moved, the quiet confidence in her steps. She looked healthier than the last time he saw her, dressed in a white linen set with a flowing skirt and a blouse.
She stopped a few feet away, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Did you think I wasn’t going to show up?” she teased.
Matthew exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “No. I knew you would.”
And somehow, that felt truer than anything he had said in a long time.
Isabel looked at him, surprised by his honesty. For someone so guarded, so distant, his words felt uncharacteristically direct. Her smile deepened just before she stepped closer.
She stopped right in front of him, their toes almost touching, her eyes shining with the quiet joy of that encounter.
Matthew, more assured in his stance, didn’t step back this time. Instead, he held her gaze, as if on the verge of saying something that could change everything between them. But rather than speaking, he simply took her hands, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
They walked down the edge to join the people celebrating at the beach.
He asked about her day and whether she had started eating normally again. He already knew the answer from their daily messages, but he asked anyway—an excuse to hear her voice, to close the space between them.
Isabel didn’t let go of his hand until they reached the crowd. People turned to see them—nurses, merchants, patients from the clinic—all grinning, laughing, teasing them as if they had just announced their wedding.
Being so exposed wasn’t something either of them was used to. Isabel, always guarded, preferred to keep her emotions private, while Matthew, who spent years avoiding personal entanglements, felt a rare sense of vulnerability under so many watchful eyes.
Isabel was the first to break the tension, letting out a small laugh as she leaned closer and whispered, “Well, I guess we just unknowingly got engaged.”
Matthew smirked, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced at the crowd, who were still grinning and murmuring among themselves. “Apparently. Should we make a speech?”
She nudged him playfully. “Let’s just act normal.”
“Normal,” he echoed, shaking his head. “Right. This is totally normal.”
Before she could reply, one of the nurses clapped her hands and called out, “Finally, Doctor! You’re smiling like a real man in love!”
Laughter rippled through the group, and Matthew felt his stomach tighten for just a second before he forced himself to relax. Isabel didn’t look at him, but he caught the small, amused smile on her lips.
Not wanting to encourage any more teasing, she stepped toward a nearby table where an elderly woman offered plates of food. “Come on,” she said, “let’s eat before they start throwing rice at us.”
Matthew exhaled a chuckle, shaking his head in surrender as he followed her. “Fine. But if they start playing wedding music, I’m running.”
The night unfolded around them—laughter, music, and the scent of grilled fish and coconut rice filling the air. They sat among the others, eating and talking, their shoulders brushing as they leaned in to hear each other over the noise. The atmosphere was electric, yet between them, there was something quieter, something unspoken weaving its way into the space between their stolen glances and lingering touches.
As lanterns rose into the sky, Isabel looked up, mesmerized by the soft golden glow drifting into the darkness. Matthew watched her, captivated not by the lights but by the way they reflected in her eyes.
He should have looked away. He should have reminded himself of all the reasons he kept his distance. But he didn’t.
Instead, he murmured, “You look happy.”
She turned to him, tilting her head slightly. “I guess I am.”
A beat of silence passed between them while they looked into each other's eyes. Then, as if pulled by an invisible force, Matthew reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered for just a second too long.
Isabel’s breath caught, her lips parting slightly as she searched his face for something—an answer, a sign, a confirmation of what she began to feel.
But before either of them could speak, before they could acknowledge whatever shifted between them, a loud cheer erupted nearby, pulling them both back to the present moment.
Isabel smiled, shaking off the spell of the moment. “Come on, Doctor. Let’s enjoy the party.”
Matthew nodded, but as he followed her back into the crowd, he knew something had changed. And this time, he noticed something different inside him: He wasn’t afraid of it, and he didn’t reject any form of kindness she was able to give.
He felt it in her generous look. She was lovely and disarmingly honest with everyone. Matthew observed as she smiled warmly at the people around her, effortlessly blending into them. He couldn’t help but notice the way she laughed, her movements light and unguarded as she playfully chased after the children, eager for her attention.
As the moon rose, the energy of the party began to wane.
Isabel reached the shore, observing the gentle waves and the moon’s shadow painting a line on the sea. Matthew walked to check on her after greeting some of his patients who needed to leave.
He stood beside Isabel, who didn’t turn to him, even though she could feel his presence and breath.
She hesitated before speaking and then released some thoughts that had grown inside her since she started opening her eyes to this place.
“I never thought that the sea could heal so much of my soul. I could hear the whisper and the energy calming my body and my mind every time I walked on the beach. It was so powerful that I became addicted to that feeling. Every day, I was there to greet the horizon, the sun, and the sea for this new day of my life with infinite possibilities. I never felt like that.”
Matthew listened carefully without saying a word, understanding there was something more she wanted to tell.
“I came here broken, completely with no lifeblood. I ran away from my life in London, and when I arrived here, I cried for days until I had nothing left inside. The kids helped to mend my wounds, and connecting with nature nurtured me for all these past months.
I was sure that there was no way I could feel better or survive from the pain of losing a baby, but now I knew I could because I was still here alive and with a lot of hope inside.”
This revelation stirred something deep in Matthew—not sorrow, but admiration. He saw the strength in her words, the quiet resilience in the way she spoke about her past. Isabel’s voice was steady, and though traces of what she had endured lingered in her eyes, they didn’t define her.
He exhaled, taking in the woman in front of him—not broken, not lost, but whole in a way that spoke of healing and newfound purpose.
The music from the party shifted, a slower melody filling the air. Neither of them moved.
Matthew rubbed his thumb on her hand to touch her instead of talking. The air changed, the tension built, and suddenly, they were closer than they had intended.
They both felt the calmness inside of being close to each other, which seemed impossible now, the other way around. The physical closeness was natural and comforting. Matthew, who had spent so much time resisting emotions, didn’t pull away, realizing he didn’t want to fight this anymore. They now saw each other's pain, making their bond even deeper.
In that moment, they both realized how easily a single movement could close the distance between them, how effortlessly this could turn into something else.
“I wasn’t a good partner,” Matthew said abruptly, breaking the silence.
Isabel looked up at him, surprised by the raw honesty in his voice.
He rubbed a hand over his face, staring at the sand beneath them. “I hurt people before. Not in big, dramatic ways—just... in the way that happens when you don’t give enough of yourself. When you think you’re doing the right thing by keeping a distance, but all you’re doing is making things worse.” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to do that to you.”
Isabel watched him with her magnetic, empathetic gaze, gently taking his hands and placing them over her heart.
“I was afraid, Isabel. Not of you, but of what happens when I let someone in. Of what happens when I fail them.”
A long silence stretched between them. The waves continued their rhythmic crash against the shore, steady and unbothered as if the world didn’t shift between them.
Isabel inhaled deeply. When she spoke, her voice was softer but steady. “I didn’t need you to promise me anything, Matthew. I just needed to know that when you’re here… you’re really here.”
He held her gaze, and for the first time in years, he felt the need to be there with her. He wanted to keep this promise to someone so disarming and pure, who changed all his rules and emotions since the first day he saw her walking on the street of Moalboal.
So, he leaned in and pressed a soft, delicate kiss against her lips—a quiet promise, a gentle expression of all the care he held for her. Isabel closed her eyes, feeling a sense of safety and grace in his touch.
They stayed close, hands entwined, eyes closed, their foreheads gently resting against each other. Surrounded by the vastness of the sea and the soothing glow of the moon, they finally found a quiet moment of peace.