The Lie I Live
“Why does it have to be you? It’s dangerous, Nicole.”
“I have to. You know I’m the only one who can do it. No one else can.”
He stepped closer, his arm wrapping tightly around my waist like he was afraid this might be the last time he’d ever touch me.
“Amor mio... I am scared,” he whispered, his voice unsteady. “I am always afraid that you will leave... that you will disappear right in front of me.”
I lifted my hand to his cheek, my other arm slipping around his neck, pulling him closer. The moment my skin touched his, he exhaled like I was the only thing keeping him grounded.
“I will always come back to you,” I murmured softly. “You are my beloved. Even if that happens... you’ll find a way to find me again, won’t you?”
His lips curved, but his eyes
his eyes held something deeper.
Fear. Love.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I will find you, cara mia.”
~~~
The alarm shattered everything.
My eyes flew open.
“What the heck was that dream?”
My heart was racing. My chest felt tight like I had just lost something I couldn’t name.
I sat there for a second, breathing hard, staring at the ceiling.
Why does it feel so real?
I grabbed my phone.
7:30 a.m.
“Shit.”
I forced myself out of bed and into the shower, letting the hot water run over me, trying to wash away the lingering feeling.
Just a dream.Just a dream.
But it didn’t feel like one.
My life revolves around lies.
Not the obvious kind. Not the careless ones people easily catch.
Mine are quieter. Practiced.
I lie in the way I smile when I’m exhausted.In the way I say I’m fine when I feel like I’m falling apart.In the way I nod when people talk about dreams I’m supposed to have futures I’m supposed to want.
I’ve spent my whole life performing a version of myself that everyone can admire.
Everyone
except me.
The real me wakes up in the middle of the night with a tight chest, staring at the ceiling, wondering something I’m too ashamed to say out loud.
Would anyone notice if I disappeared?
That thought lingers longer than it should.
In quiet moments.In pauses between conversations.In the spaces where I feel... stuck.
I stared at myself in the mirror.
“Ordinary,” I muttered.
The word sat heavier than it should have.
I grabbed my bag and walked out the door, already bracing myself for another day that felt exactly like the last.
I didn’t know it yet
but that was the last normal day of my life.
Maybe that’s why I stopped breathing when I saw it.
The travel ad.
It glowed across the train station like a doorway into another life—one I had never been brave enough to want.
AMALFI COAST, ITALY
A postcard that comes to life.
The cliffs looked unreal soft pastels cascading toward water so blue it almost hurt to look at. Sunlight draped over rooftops like gold.
I couldn’t look away.
I didn’t know places like that existed outside of movies.
Or dreams.
My heart pounded harder.
Why do I feel like I need to go there?
Before I could think, my feet were already moving.
Fast.
Purposeful.
Like if I hesitated even for a secondthe feeling would disappear.
By the time I got home, I was breathless.
My hands trembled as I opened my laptop.
“Cheap flights from Melbourne, Australia to Amalfi, Italy.”
Enter.
The screen loaded.
My stomach dropped.
Damn.
That was it.
My savings.
Gone.
Money meant for something safe.Something responsible.Something my mother could proudly talk about.
A mortgage.A future.A life that made sense.
My cursor hovered over the mouse.
Do I really want to do this?
Am I really about to throw everything away for... escape?
And then
the memory hit.
Sharp.
Unavoidable.
A family dinner.
Laughter. Glasses clinking. Voices overlapping.
Someone announced their daughter had just finished university.
Everyone applauded.
I smiled.
Clapped.
Played my part.
But inside
something in me shrank.
The drive home was quiet.
Too quiet.
Then my mother sighed.
A small sound.
But heavy.
“I envy your aunt,” she said softly. “At least she has a daughter with a degree.”
The words stayed in the air.
I swallowed.
“Mama, even without a degree, I found a good job. I’m doing well.”
Silence.
That kind of silence that says everything.
In our Filipino-Chinese household
face is everything.
You can be kind.You can be hardworking.You can even be successful.
But without titles
you are nothing.
Respect is earned through diplomas.Through marriage.Through children.
Timelines carved into your life.
And no matter how hard I tried
I could never meet them.
Never satisfy her.
I was tired.
So tired.
Tired of being measured.Tired of being compared.Tired of living a life that didn’t feel like mine.
So why bother?
Before I could think
I clicked.
Buy Ticket.
Payment successful.
A breath punched out of me.
It was done.
There was no going back.
“I’m going to Italy.”
~~~
“Seriously, Nicole, are you actually going to Italy by yourself?”
Karissa’s voice exploded through my phone.
“Yes, Ate. I’m already at the airport. No turning back now.”
“You are insane! What about your work?”
“I resigned last week.”
Silence.
“What did Mom say?”
“I... haven’t told her.”
“Nicole—she’s going to lose it.”
“I’m tired,” I whispered. “I don’t want this life anymore.”
A pause.
Then softer
“I’m on your side. Always. Go live. And maybe... find an Italian man.”
I laughed. “No promises.”
That was when someone slammed into me.
My boarding pass flew.
“Sorry!” a male voice called—but he didn’t stop.
I crouched down
and froze.
Beside my passport lay a velvet ribbon.
Deep red.
Almost glowing.
I picked it up.
Heat pulsed through it.
I gasped.
That wasn’t normal.
“Qatar Airways Flight QR939 now boarding for Rome.”
I shoved it into my pocket and stood.
My heart was racing.
Too fast.
As I stepped forward
I felt it again.
That warmth.
But this time
not in my hand.
In my chest.
Like something had just... woken up.
This wasn’t just a trip.
It wasn’t even a choice.
It felt like something had been set in motion long before I saw that ad.
Like I wasn’t going to Amalfi.
Like Amalfi
was calling me.
I let out a shaky laugh as the hairs on my arms stood.
“Why do I feel like this...?”
I forced myself into my seat, buckling my seatbelt.
“I really need to stop this madness,” I muttered.
The plane began to move.
Slow.
Then faster.
I closed my eyes.
Tried to breathe.
Tried to ignore the feeling crawling under my skin.
Then
something brushed against my ear.
My eyes snapped open.
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
I turned.
Fast.
Too fast.
Passengers. Movement. Noise.
Nothing.
But the feeling
it didn’t go away.
I swallowed hard.
“Who...?” I whispered.
Silence.
And then
very slowly
the warmth returned.
Not in my chest.
Not in my hand.
Behind me.
I stopped breathing.
Because I could feel it.
Someone was standing right there.
