Keep the Faith

By Ana Tejano

When Faith’s five-year relationship ends right before she leaves for a typhoon-stricken town in Iloilo, she chooses not to make a big deal out of it. She’s not a stranger to heartbreak after all – she deals with it everyday with her disaster relief work. How can she be broken up about her lost love life when she’s surrounded by people who literally lost everything?

All she wants now is for her life to go back to normal. Never mind her unanswered questions about the breakup, or that (not so) tiny ache in her heart whenever she sees her ex. She’s okay now and maybe she’s even starting to like Nico Tamayo, the attractive new guy at work.

With new possibilities in the horizon, Faith thinks she is well on her way to moving on. But when her past comes calling back to her, will all the good things in her present be enough to keep her on the path? Or will she finally learn that there's more to heartbreak and recovery than what she knows?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ana Tejano
• Release date: Jul 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370990306

Ana Tejano

Ana Tejano has been in love with words and writing ever since she met Elizabeth Wakefield whens he was in Grade 3. She has contributed several non-fiction pieces in print and online publications, and has been blogging for years. When she’s not writing, she works as a marketing lead for a multinational company by day, manages a book club, and serves in her church community in every other time that she doesn’t spend reading or sleeping. She lives in Metro Manila and is also known by another name in her other circles (but it’s not a secret identity, really).

Book preview

Keep the Faith

Ana Tejano

About Keep the Faith

When Faith’s five-year relationship ends right before she leaves for a typhoon-stricken town in Iloilo, she chooses not to make a big deal out of it. She’s not a stranger to heartbreak after all – she deals with it everyday with her disaster relief work. How can she be broken up about her lost love life when she’s surrounded by people who literally lost everything?

All she wants now is for her life to go back to normal. Never mind her unanswered questions about the breakup, or that (not so) tiny ache in her heart whenever she sees her ex. She’s okay now and maybe she’s even starting to like Nico Tamayo, the attractive new guy at work.

With new possibilities in the horizon, Faith thinks she is well on her way to moving on. But when her past comes calling back to her, will all the good things in her present be enough to keep her on the path? Or will she finally learn that there's more to heartbreak and recovery than what she knows?

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2016, 2017, Ana Tejano.

Cover art for this edition designed by Miles Tan

Photography by Alexandra Urrea

Featuring Gabriela Pangilinan and Gio Gahol

Scripture quotations are taken from Hiligaynon Bible (Ang Pulong Sang Dios) Copyright © 1996, 2006 and the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

To Mitch, Happy, and Mae –

Thanks for being the Love, Joy, and Courage to my Faith.

To Chief Erick –

You are dearly missed.

Estad firmes en la fe.

Chapter 1

There was someone sleeping on my desk.

The HQ was usually empty when I arrived in the mornings, as I always got there very early out of habit and proximity. Three months at a relief mission in Iloilo hadn’t changed my early bird habit though it felt a little strange to be back in the city after several months. Disaster response and relief was no joke, and after surviving the chaos of all the field offices and evacuation centers, it was nice to go back to a more orderly environment.

The tiny chimes on the door tinkled when I entered the main area, and I was greeted by a blast of cold air. It was dim, save for the daylight coming through the window blinds and the light coming through the bottom of the closed door of the pantry. Sir Tony, our boss, had probably gotten in early today, and was in the pantry enjoying his morning coffee. I didn’t bother with the switches because it was light enough for me to make my way to my desk at the corner of the room. That is until I had the shock of my life when I saw the hunched figure over my desk.

It…didn’t move even after I yelped. I remembered my male colleagues telling us last Halloween about a ghost that supposedly haunted the HQ, but no one believed them because we knew they were just pulling a prank on everyone. But what if it was true? What if there was a ghost, and it chose my table as its haunting ground because I hadn’t been around to use it the past three months?

Except…ghosts didn’t snore, I thought as the unidentified person belched loudly.

I crept up to the figure, and found that the so-called ghost was just a living, breathing human. A guy, from the looks of his sneaker-clad feet peeking out from under the table. He didn’t move when I stomped to the switches to turn on the lights—maybe the hood that covered his head was thick enough to keep the lights from getting through. The surprise had faded, and now I was more irritated than frightened. Everyone here knew that I didn’t like it when people used my desk without permission. It just wasn’t polite, and my middle child syndrome means I’m very protective of my stuff.

It took me three shakes before he finally stirred. He lifted his hooded head and gave me a bleary look with a sleepy, What?

Our eyes met, and for a moment I was at a loss for words as I stared into the sleepy, dark depths. He blinked slowly, and the mere action had me mesmerized as his lashes brushed against his cheeks. Then he yawned and dropped his head back on the table, snapping me out of it.

Excuse me, I said, trying to keep my voice calm and polite. You’re sleeping on my desk.

He lifted his head and yawned again. What?

You. Are. On my desk, I repeated slowly, this time through gritted teeth.

Oh. He blinked again, and I tried not to stare into those eyes. It was pretty distracting, those deep-set, wide, dark eyes. Pretty and distracting. He still looked clueless then he rubbed his eyes. The hood fell down to his shoulders when he shook his head, revealing a mop of thick, messy black hair.

You’re the girl who sits here, he said, blinking at me again. They said you wouldn’t be back until Monday. Sorry.

I narrowed my eyes at him as he pushed my chair back, stretching as he stood up. He was wearing a plaid shirt underneath the jacket that rose up as he raised his arms over his head, teasing my eyes with a hint of his bare, flat stomach. His arms dropped, and his shirt followed, covering the rest of him again.

He cleared his throat. I looked up hastily, my face burning at the thought that he caught me staring, but he wasn’t even paying attention. He seemed to be looking at me, but his eyes were unfocused and sleepy. He blinked again, picked up his bag, and stepped away from my desk. I crossed my arms and watched him, hoping his vacant desk was the one at the other side of the room, but he shuffled to the empty desk beside mine.

Sorry, he repeated, before sinking down on the chair. He pulled his hoodie back up, dropped his head on the table, and was soon fast asleep again.

* * *

His name was Nico.

Oh my God, Faith, he caught you stalking him?

Half an hour after the desk incident, I was at the convenience store at our building’s lobby, glaring at my friend and colleague April Flores as she laughed at me over her cup of milk. She laughed so much that her sixteen-week-old pregnant belly shook, as if her baby was also laughing at me, while I crossed my arms and pouted.

I wasn’t stalking, I insisted, after her laughter was reduced to chuckles. I was just getting to know him.

By stalking him online. April laughed again as my face continued to burn in shame.

I had tried to start working after I was sure that he was asleep, but the first thing I did was to look for an email announcement about new hires, if only to get his name: Nicolas Tamayo, new Program Manager for Education, and he was from Iloilo. He had replaced Billy, who resigned a few weeks before I flew to Iloilo. The email was sent a month after I had left for the mission, and it was one of those that I skipped on reading because it didn’t matter while I was out on the field.

There was no other information—Sir Tony was known for his email brevity—so I did the next most logical thing: look him up on social media.

There were nine results for Nicolas Tamayo, but the top result was the one I was looking for, and we had about twenty mutual friends. I glanced at him to make sure that he was still asleep before I clicked on his profile.

So did you find what you need to know about him there? April asked, eyes sparkling.

I shrugged. Not much. There wasn’t much to see because we weren’t friends, but I picked up some things from what was public on his timeline. That cover photo of a basketball court told me he was into that sport. Or that profile picture, where he was grinning at the camera reflected on his dark sunglasses, posing against a backdrop of clouds on top of a mountain. There were several photos of him tagged by our mutual friends, mostly people from work, during field work, dinners, and drinking sessions.

I got so engrossed in combing through his photos that I forgot to check if he was still asleep. When I glanced at his direction, I yelped when our eyes met and I saw a small smile on his lips.

Embarrassed, I closed my browser and my laptop, barked out an excuse, and left. That was when I ran into April, and I dragged her to the convenience store.

You could have just called me about him, you know, April said after another round of laughter. She was totally enjoying this.

But he was sleeping on my desk! I crossed my arms. Why was he using my desk?

She winced. Okay, that was our fault, sorry. He was supposed to be using the desk he’s sleeping on now, but you know how it had been a dumping place because we were all too lazy to put the things away in the supplies closet? Alvin was supposed to clean it up when Nico arrived, but he’s such a terrible procrastinator that he only got to do it yesterday. And Nico had been on field work until yesterday so he mustn’t have read the notice to transfer desks.

But why doesn’t he use Billy’s desk?

Oh, the air con’s leaking there. April waved a dismissive hand. And Alvin was in charge of onboarding him, and your desk is closer.

"So he’s been sleeping there every morning all this time?"

Only on Thursdays, because his car is coding. On normal days, he would arrive a bit later. He lives in the South.

Why didn’t anyone tell me about this?

We weren’t ready because you’re not supposed to be here until Monday! Then her expression turned suspicious. Why are you here anyway?

I was bored, I replied, my arms still crossed. I needed to go out.

Your flight came in yesterday evening, right? How can you be bored already? April frowned. Are you okay? How are you since…you know?

I watched her hesitate as she fumbled for a correct term, which wouldn’t really lessen the impact of the truth. I was ready for this. I was almost always prepared for things—I didn’t work in disaster relief for nothing.

After the breakup? I replied, glad that my voice sounded calm. You can say it, April. It’s okay. I’m okay.

What do you mean?

I was prepared for this, too. I took a deep breath and pulled a line from my mental post-breakup preparedness kit.

I’m ready to move on. I put my coffee on the table. Or actually, I have moved on, I think. It’s been three months, and what did they say in the movie? Or was it a book? Anyway, it’s been more than three months, and I’m past that now.

I don’t think that’s what it meant. And I don’t think it’s accurate for everyone.

Well, whatever. I’m okay. I shrugged. Being on a mission helped. It gave me the proper perspective. This breakup is nothing compared to what others lost in that typhoon. What’s losing a boyfriend compared to losing a family member? I took a sip of coffee, swallowing hard to get it through the lump that formed in my throat.

Fine, it was a white lie—it still wasn’t easy to talk about it. I was chalking that up to the fact that it was a five-year relationship that I had just gotten out of—unwillingly—and that it ended right before my first long mission trip.

But I wasn’t lying about the trip helping me. There was nothing like being out there doing meaningful work to give you the right perspective on one’s problems.

April gave me a long look, which I met head on, until she let out a resigned sigh. I’m glad you’re okay, then.

I smiled gratefully. Then I glanced at my watch and groaned. Ugh. How will I face this new guy after he caught me stalking him?

I don’t think he minded that. April chuckled, then stood up to throw her now-empty milk box. Don’t worry. Nico’s a nice guy. I think the two of you will get along pretty well.

* * *

I thought she would introduce me to Nico when we went back, but April had to answer a call as soon as we got to the main area. Some of our other colleagues had already arrived, so I stopped by to say hello. Like April, most of them were surprised but glad to see me back. Nico wasn’t at his desk when I got back to my table, much to my relief. It was short-lived, however, because he was back a few minutes later, and I took care not to glance at his direction when I heard his chair move and squeak as he sat down.

As I waited for my email to load, I looked away from my screen to the corkboard in front of me, and realized for the first time that something felt off with my desk. The walls and the board were empty. Well not really empty, because the photos with my family and friends were still there, as well as the other ornaments, like my mug and the tiny sleeping St. Joseph statue I got from my sister last Christmas. But there were too many empty spaces where a lot of other photos were supposed to be.

My mind raced as I pulled my drawer open. How could those pictures be gone? I hadn’t been able to go to the HQ before leaving for the airport, so someone must have cleared out my desk. Did I end up going here somehow in a daze and not remember?

Hi.

I froze at the sound of that now all-too-familiar deep voice—now less sleepy—and my panic gave way to anger. I turned around slowly.

Nico’s expression was friendly, oblivious to my seething. I just want to say sorry for sleeping on your desk. Alvin told me you were coming back but I thought it wasn’t until Monday so I didn’t transfer immediately.

Did you touch anything here? I pointed to my cubicle’s walls, ignoring his apology.

Huh?

You’ve been using my desk since you got here. Did you remove anything?

He shook his head, his messy hair flopping on his forehead. He brushed it away with a hand. No. Why would I remove anything? I only sleep at other people’s desks, but I don’t take anything. He gave me a cheeky grin at the last part, an attempt to make a joke, but I was too worked up to play along.

Then what happened to my pictures, huh?

What pictures?

I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I turned, and there was April, holding out a small paper bag. Hey. I almost forgot to give you this.

April, do you know—

I heard you. They’re in the bag, she interrupted gently. I took your pictures down, okay? It’s not Nico’s fault. He didn’t even see them.

I took the bag from her and peeked inside, and found the smiling face of my ex-boyfriend looking at me, beside my own. I was unprepared for the stab of pain when I saw our matching grins, remembering exactly when that photo was taken (second year anniversary, right after he took me out to dinner).

I thought it would help if I cleaned it up when you told me what happened. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. She squeezed my arm, and left to answer her phone that started ringing again.

Squashing the urge to sort through the photos and memories, I shoved the paper bag in my bottom drawer, shutting the drawer with a loud click. When I looked up, I saw that Nico was gazing at me intently, and my face burned with shame again. Twice now. I can’t seem to get off on the right foot with this guy.

I told you I didn’t know about anything, he said, amused.

Well thanks a lot for rubbing it in. If you hadn’t been sleeping on my desk then I wouldn’t have asked you.

Didn’t you learn much from what you saw on my profile?

I wasn’t stalking you!

A small line formed between his eyebrows as if I was a Math problem that he was trying to solve. I tried to stare back at him but his brown eyes were too intense. Then to my surprise—and frustration—I saw the beginnings of a smirk tug at the corner of his lips.

Aren’t you going to say something? I crossed my arms.

Then his lips stretched into a full-fledged smile, a dimple popping on his right cheek. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t sleep on your desk again.

Good, I said with a firm nod. Then I started to feel a little silly for my outburst, especially after he seemed so gracious. I’m sorry, too.

Peace? he asked, extending his right hand to me. I uncrossed my arms and looked at his hand warily before glancing up at him again. He was still smiling.

Okay, I said, just a little