Colet Vergara was not the type to take vacations. As an ambitious architect working for a high-profile Manila firm, she'd spent years climbing the corporate ladder, sacrificing her personal life for the sake of her career. But when her boss suggested a "forced vacation" due to burnout, Colet had no choice but to comply. A few weeks in Cebu, her grandmother's former seaside bed-and-breakfast, seemed like a good place to clear her head.
She hadn't visited the province in years, but her memories of it were fond. The gentle rhythm of the waves, the warm smiles of the locals, and the scent of lechon and suman during Christmas—everything about Cebu held a piece of her heart. However, she never expected to find herself so... unsettled.
She wasn't sure what she was expecting from a laid-back Christmas in Cebu, but it certainly wasn't the explosion of colorful parols hanging from every street corner and the festive sounds of carolers in every plaza. Or the charming little bakery at the corner of her grandmother's old house that was as fragrant as it was busy.
"Pwede na, Colet. Go out, enjoy yourself for a while," her cousin had said when she arrived. "I'll take care of everything here, and while you're at it, try some local delicacies. You might find yourself missing Cebu."
Colet rolled her eyes but decided to follow her cousin's advice. It was time to indulge in some much-needed downtime, even if it meant stepping outside her comfort zone. So, after a long nap and an awkward attempt to escape a group of overly enthusiastic locals at the sugbahan, she decided to explore the town.
She was in a bit of a daze as she walked along the narrow street near the beach, trying to take in the local sights. It was late afternoon, and the sun cast a golden glow on everything. A familiar scent of freshly baked bread wafted toward her, and she found herself drawn to a little bakery.
"Bayanihan Bakery," the sign read in playful, hand-painted letters. She pushed the door open, greeted by the warmth of the oven and the sweet aroma of cinnamon rolls, otap, and freshly made bibingka.
Behind the counter stood a woman in her late twenties with long dark hair tied in a messy bun. She had flour on her cheek, a bright smile, and an infectious energy that Colet couldn't help but notice.
"Maayong hapon! What can I get you today?" the woman asked in a cheerful Cebuano accent, her voice like a melody.
Colet blinked, realizing that she was staring. "Ah, um, hi. I'll take some otap and maybe a couple of bibingka. Also... some coffee, if you have it."
"Of course! Fresh from the oven. I'll make sure it's strong enough for you." The woman winked and disappeared behind the counter, her presence surprisingly comforting.
Colet couldn't help but notice how the woman moved with such ease—like she belonged to this place, like everything she did was part of a bigger rhythm she knew by heart. Colet liked that. But she couldn't let herself get distracted for too long. She was here for rest, not romance.
As Colet sipped her coffee and nibbled on the bibingka, she couldn't help but overhear a conversation at the next table. A group of local women, clearly regular customers, were chatting animatedly in Cebuano about the upcoming Christmas festival.
"So, I hear Aiah is leading the charge again this year," one of the women said. "No surprise there. She's been working nonstop at the bakery."
"I don't know how she does it," another woman added. "She's everywhere at once—baking, organizing, even fixing the church decorations. Aiah can't sit still."
"Arah sa? You know her, don't you?" another woman asked Colet, eyeing her curiously.
Colet paused, her mouth suddenly dry. The name sounded familiar. "Aiah?" she asked carefully, unsure if she was remembering it correctly.
The woman nodded. "Yes, Aiah Arceta—she's the owner of this bakery. She's also been helping out with the festival every year. She's a force of nature. If you're in town for Christmas, you might want to see her work in action."
Colet nodded politely but didn't press further. Aiah Arceta. She sounded like the type of person who might know exactly how to navigate the complexities of small-town Cebu—and also someone who would rather not deal with someone like Colet, who was as much of a city girl as they come.
The next morning, Colet found herself wandering back to Bayanihan Bakery, this time with a vague sense of anticipation. She wasn't quite sure why—maybe it was the fact that she'd dreamt of Aiah's smile the night before, or the way the locals had spoken of her with such warmth.
When she walked through the door, Aiah was there again, kneading dough and humming to a tune that seemed to match the rhythm of the town itself.
"Good morning, ma'am!" Aiah greeted, her eyes lighting up as Colet approached.
"Good morning," Colet replied, slipping into Cebuano despite herself. She smiled awkwardly. "I'm here to buy more... you know, bibingka and otap. It's... really good."
Aiah laughed. "I'm glad you like it! You've got a sweet tooth, huh?"
Colet chuckled, feeling a little flustered. "You could say that."
Aiah raised an eyebrow as she handed Colet a bag of otap. "Well, if you're interested, we're organizing a Christmas festival in the plaza this week. Lots of food, music, and dancing. You should come. Everyone in town will be there, and I promise you'll eat well."
Colet hesitated, then nodded. "That sounds... fun. I'll check it out."
Aiah's face brightened. "I'll look for you then. It'll be great to have you there."
The Christmas festival arrived in full force that weekend, and Colet found herself amidst the hustle and bustle of Cebu's most festive celebration. It wasn't just a gathering—it was a statement of pride, community, and joy. The local street food vendors were out in full force, and the air was thick with the aroma of lechon, pancit, and fresh halo-halo.
Colet wandered through the plaza, amazed by the vibrancy of it all. But as the evening wore on, she couldn't help but feel a tug in her chest. She found herself searching for Aiah, hoping to see the woman who had, in just a few days, become a strange source of comfort for her.
As if on cue, Aiah appeared, her hair now tied neatly in a ponytail, and her apron replaced by a festive red dress. She was talking to some locals, her laughter echoing across the plaza.
"Aiah!" Colet called out, stepping forward.
Aiah turned, and her smile widened. "Colet! You came!"
"I wouldn't miss it," Colet said with a grin. "Everything smells incredible."
"You should try the puso—it's my favorite." Aiah offered, leading Colet to one of the food stalls.
As they stood in line together, they talked more, their conversation flowing naturally. The night continued to unfold with fireworks, carolers, and the unmistakable joy of Christmas in Cebu. For the first time in ages, Colet felt a sense of belonging, a sense of peace.
And when the night ended with a breathtaking fireworks display, Colet realized that there was something else she wanted—more than the work that had consumed her life for so long. She wanted to stay. Stay in Cebu. Stay with Aiah.
Two days before Christmas, as the town gathered for the grand Simbang Gabi, Colet approached Aiah outside the church. There was a quiet peace to the evening—the kind that spoke of old traditions, of family, and of love.
"Aiah, I... I wanted to apologize. For not understanding what this place meant to you. And to the people here."
Aiah looked at her, her eyes soft. "You don't need to apologize, Colet. It's easy to forget what matters when you're so far from home. But this place, this community, it's always been here, waiting."
Colet took a deep breath. "I want to be part of it. Part of this. Part of you."
Aiah smiled, her heart fluttering. "Well, you're already part of it. You've been here all along—just had to realize it."
As they stood under the glow of the Christmas lights, Colet took Aiah's hand, a promise hanging between them. A promise that this was just the beginning.
"Merry Christmas, Aiah."
"Merry Christmas, Colet."
And as they walked together into the warmth of the crowd, the sound of Kasadya Ning Taknaa filling the air, Colet finally knew: there was no place she'd rather be.
The days leading up to Christmas seemed to blur together for Colet. The once-quiet town of Cebu was now brimming with festive energy. Everywhere she turned, there were decorations, bustling markets, and locals coming together to prepare for the grandest of celebrations. But what struck her most were the small moments—like watching children run through the plaza with parols in their hands, or seeing the elderly women gather to make bibingka in the open air, with laughter filling the warm December evening.
And then, there was Aiah.
Colet couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something magnetic about her. Her enthusiasm for the community, the way she carried herself with effortless charm, and the undeniable warmth that made Colet feel like she was part of something bigger than herself. It had started as a simple gesture—a friendly invitation to the Christmas festival—but it had become so much more than that. She found herself thinking about Aiah when she wasn't around, her smile lingering in her mind, her voice echoing in the quiet of her thoughts.
On Christmas Eve, Colet had decided she couldn't leave without telling Aiah how much this place—and she—had changed her. And as the town prepared for the midnight mass, Colet found herself walking to the bakery, determined to share her feelings.
When she arrived, Aiah was busily overseeing the final touches on the kanto booth outside. There was a colorful display of lechon, siomai, and biko laid out on a table. The smell of roasted pork and sweet rice filled the air. Aiah was speaking with some of the women from the barangay, laughing and taking directions like the natural leader she was.
Colet stood there for a moment, simply watching her, feeling the quiet awe that had been growing in her heart. She almost turned around and left, but then Aiah caught her eye, her face lighting up.
"Colet! There you are!" Aiah said, waving her over. "I thought you'd left for the night! Are you ready for the festival?"
"I... actually wanted to talk to you," Colet said, her heart thumping louder than she would have liked.
Aiah raised an eyebrow, the teasing smile on her lips. "Oh? You sure it's not just the bibingka calling you back?" She winked.
Colet couldn't help but chuckle, but the nerves were starting to build. "No, it's... well, maybe a little. But mostly, I wanted to tell you something."
Aiah paused, her expression softening as she crossed her arms. "Go ahead. You know you can tell me anything, Colet."
Colet took a deep breath. "I didn't expect to feel this way. I came here to get away from work and sort my life out. But it turns out, coming here... I found something I wasn't even looking for. And that something is you, Aiah."
Aiah blinked, her eyes wide with surprise, but then a slow smile crept onto her lips. "Colet..."
"No, wait. Let me finish," Colet hurriedly continued, the words pouring out now. "I don't know if it's the magic of Cebu, or the way you light up this whole town, but I just... I can't ignore it anymore. I've been thinking about you since the day I walked into your bakery. You make me want to believe in things I've never even considered."
Aiah's eyes softened as she listened, her heart racing in her chest. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, a loud voice interrupted.
"Aiah! What's taking so long? The church is about to start!"
It was one of the local elders, a woman who had clearly been overseeing the preparations for the midnight mass. Aiah sighed, glancing at Colet, then at the bustling group of women.
"I'm sorry, Colet, but I really have to finish setting up. Midnight mass is soon, and there's so much to do. But please, come! We'll talk more afterward, okay?"
Colet nodded, a little deflated but understanding. "Of course. Go ahead. I'll be at the church."
Aiah smiled warmly and touched her arm. "Thank you. I'll be there after. I promise." And with that, she hurried off to finish the preparations.
The midnight mass was a sight to behold. The church was filled to the brim with families, friends, and neighbors who had come together for the most sacred part of the Christmas celebration. The sounds of the choir filled the air, the soft, beautiful strains of Santo Niño and Ang Pasko Ay Sumapit floating through the dimly lit space. Colet had never felt so at peace in a church before. There was something about the intimacy of it all—the community gathered in reverence, the sense of unity—and it made her realize how much she had been missing by focusing solely on her career.
She sat in a pew near the front, her eyes occasionally flicking toward the entrance where Aiah was still helping some last-minute preparations. She could see the soft glow of her smile from across the room, her warm presence even more magnetic in the midst of the evening's festivities.
The service ended, and as the congregation filed out of the church, Colet found herself waiting near the steps. She didn't have to wait long before Aiah emerged, her eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on Colet.
"Hey..." Aiah greeted, a little out of breath, her cheeks flushed from the rush of the evening. "Sorry about earlier. You're still here?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Colet said softly. She gestured toward the nearby park, where a small gathering of people had begun to light candles around the Christmas tree.
"So, what did you want to say earlier?" Aiah asked, her curiosity piqued. She motioned for them to walk together.
Colet paused for a moment, her heart in her throat. She had wanted to say it earlier, but now, in this moment, it seemed even more important. She turned to Aiah, her voice steady but full of emotion.
"I came here to find peace. To find a break from everything I'd built around myself. But what I found instead was you."
Aiah stopped in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat. "Colet..." she whispered.
"I want to stay here. With you. I want to be part of this community, part of you," Colet continued, her eyes searching Aiah's for any sign of reciprocation. "I don't know what the future holds, but I know that what I feel for you is real. And I don't want to ignore it anymore."
Aiah's lips parted, her eyes glistening with emotion. She had never expected this. Not from someone like Colet—someone who seemed so wrapped up in the fast-paced, cold world of Manila. But here, under the stars of Cebu, with the warmth of the holiday season wrapping around them like a comforting embrace, it all made sense.
"Colet," Aiah whispered, her voice soft but full of sincerity. "I... I've been waiting for you to say that. I just... I didn't know if you'd ever feel the same way."
Colet smiled, her heart swelling with relief. Without thinking, she reached for Aiah's hand, squeezing it gently. "I do. I really do."
Aiah's smile was all the answer Colet needed. With the night sky above them, the sound of Kumukutikutitap echoing in the background, they shared a quiet kiss, a promise of a future they would build together. A future that was brighter and warmer than any Christmas season.
And as they stood there, hand in hand, watching the fireworks light up the night sky, Colet realized that this—this feeling of love, of belonging, of peace—was the true gift of Christmas.
"Merry Christmas, Aiah," Colet whispered, her heart full of joy.
"Merry Christmas, Colet," Aiah replied, her voice steady, her gaze unwavering.
And in that moment, everything felt perfect.