I thought I was strong, but that day tears kept falling—perhaps because I felt better after confiding in a stranger.

The day I received my best friend’s wedding invitation, I was both smiling and bitter. My friends were “leaving the game for their husbands” one by one, and I had just broken up. They were about to wear wedding dresses, and I had just gotten rid of a broken relationship.

On the wedding day, I tried to look cheerful and put on makeup as a way to reassure myself. The party was held at Sofitel Manila overlooking the bay. But I was stunned when I saw Ken—my ex—armed by a strange girl. Ironically, the three of us were even placed at the same table. While everyone was looking at the stage, she kept feeding me and whispering and laughing, as if she was trying to make me uncomfortable.

The climax was when the glass of calamansi orange juice in her hand suddenly spilled on my dress. Before I could react, a man from the next table walked over, handed me a pack of wet towels, and whispered, “Don’t say anything, just smile.” Without any unnecessary movement, he held my hand, deliberately speaking loudly enough for the whole table to hear: “Sorry, honey, I’m late. Let me take you to wash your hands.”

We walked outside. Leaving the banquet hall, we were both silent for a few seconds, then burst out laughing: “Like in the movies!” After getting to know each other a bit, I invited him to the sky lounge on Roxas Boulevard for a drink as a thank you. At first, I was wary, but it was his silence and his listening eyes that made me feel lighter. With the alcohol in, I told him about my broken love, about the disappointments in my heart. I thought I was strong, but that day tears kept falling—perhaps it was easier to talk to strangers.

The sunset fell across the waters of Manila Bay, the wind carried the smell of sea salt. We sat on the balcony watching the city light up—quite romantic. Excited, I gently pulled his collar, suddenly placing a soft kiss on the lips of a man I had known for… 60 minutes. Not aggressive, not forced—just a gentle comfort. I was stunned and then laughed at myself for being reckless. We didn’t say anything more, just sat next to each other until late at night.

After that day, he texted. I didn’t reply. I thought everything should stop at that moment—a kiss with a stranger in a night full of hurt.

A month later, my parents came to Manila from Cavite to visit. My mother told me to take her to visit an “old friend” who had overcome difficulties together, but had not seen her for a long time after moving abroad.

Tita Nena’s house was an old Intramuros-style villa in the New Manila area, Quezon City. The two women chattered as if they had met their youth again. Tita Nena complimented me and joked: “Do you want to be the daughter-in-law of Tita’s family?”

I laughed along, “fake”: “I heard from my mother that Drew is very good, how can I reach him?”

A familiar voice rang out right behind me: “If I can’t reach him, I’ll bend down.”

I turned around in shock. It was him—the strange man at the wedding. I couldn’t believe it… was this fate?

He looked at me and smiled: “Twenty years without seeing each other, you’ve grown up so fast!” The two mothers burst out laughing, deliberately leaving us some space.

I was confused. It turned out that what I thought was “coincidence” turned out to be fate. He said he had been quietly following my Instagram, it was just that I had a boyfriend so I “forgot about the world”. It turned out that the day at Sofitel, he recognized me first, saw me confused so he “played the role of the late boyfriend.”

We sat on the porch, listening to the bells of St. Paul the Apostle Church in the distance. I no longer tried to act strong—just calmly as if the sadness had been blown away by the Manila wind.

Perhaps, after all, I still had a chance to wear a wedding dress—not in bitterness, but with true love. In a noisy city like Manila, amidst the smell of the sea breeze and the yellow lights, it turns out that the heart still knows its way back