🌘 Chapter 5: A Name for the Girl Who Can’t See
The café was starting to hum again.
Dishes clinking. Quiet chatter in a mix of Korean and English. The heater buzzing faintly in the corner. But Erica… she was stillness in the middle of it all—like a pause in a song only a few could hear.
She stood up slowly, fingers grazing the edge of the table before she found her footing. Her movements were practiced now. Poised. Her body may have stopped seeing, but it had learned to remember.
Jepoy, who had been watching discreetly from behind the counter, set down the tray in his hands. He didn’t know why his chest felt heavier the closer she moved to the door. He barely knew her.
But something about her made him want to stay in the room a little longer, just in case she needed help.
Or maybe just in case… she wanted someone to stay.
She reached for the handle.
"Wait," Jepoy said, before he could stop himself.
Erica paused, fingers tightening around the metal bar. Her brows rose just slightly. “Yes?”
Jepoy suddenly forgot how to speak. His heart was in his throat now.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Uhm… I was just wondering…”
She turned her face toward the sound of his voice. Listening.
“…what’s your name?"
That simple.
That honest.
Erica blinked behind her sunglasses. For a moment, she said nothing. The question sat in the air like fog.
Most people didn’t ask her name anymore. They asked about her condition. Her past. Her recovery.
But not her name.
"Erica," she said softly. "Erica Salcedo."
He smiled.
“Jepoy,” he replied, stepping just a little closer. “Jeffrey Miranda. But people call me Jepoy.”
She gave a tiny nod, her lips curved with something that wasn’t quite a smile—but close.
"Thank you for the tea… again, Jepoy."
He swallowed, forcing back the boyish grin forming on his face. "Anytime."
Then—without asking, without pushing—he moved ahead and opened the café door for her, just like he did at 7-Eleven.
She stepped into the cold air, cane tapping gently as she walked away.
He watched her leave.
And this time, he had a name.
The girl who couldn’t see him… now had a name in his heart.
And that changed everything.
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