Chapter LXXIII: Amare et Servire
Months have passed since the chaos.
Wounds that once stung—both seen and unseen—have now turned to scars, reminders of battles survived. With time, care, and unwavering support from the people around them, Bennett, Liz, Adrian, and Wyn finally make a full recovery.
And on one bright, calm Saturday morning, Bennett and Liz step out into the heart of the city for the date they’ve both been dreaming of for so long.
They start at Calle Escolta.
It’s a charming street that blends history and art with the hum of modern life. Horse-drawn carriages clatter along cobbled paths, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air from quaint little cafés.
Bennett pulls the door open to a quiet café, the bell above the entrance ringing lightly. Inside, sunlight streams through the wide windows, dancing on the wooden tables.
They take a seat by the window.
Liz stirs her cappuccino lazily, smiling as she watches people stroll by. Bennett, meanwhile, can't stop staring at her—softly lit by the morning sun, laughter hiding in the corners of her eyes.
"I can’t believe we’re here," Liz says, taking a sip.
“Me too,” Bennett replies. “Feels like yesterday we were… fighting demons and dealing with soul-stuff.”
Liz chuckles. “Now it’s just… coffee. And you.”
They talk. About nothing and everything. From little jokes to deep dreams, they let the minutes pass without rush. The kind of conversation they hadn’t had in what felt like ages.
Later, they stroll hand-in-hand down the brick-paved paths to Plaza de Regalos, the local shopping center.
Bennett holds up a ridiculously large sunhat and places it on Liz’s head.
"You look like a glamorous tourist lost in Nueva España," he teases.
"And you look like her confused boyfriend who forgot the itinerary," she laughs.
They take silly photos in front of the fountain. Buy matching bracelets from a street vendor. Share cotton candy and steal glances like it’s their first high school date all over again.
Afterward, hunger strikes—and there’s only one place they know they have to visit.
McRonald’s.
They order their usuals—chicken nuggets for her, burger with extra pickles for him—and share fries while talking about childhood memories, old toys, and which cartoon character they’d be if given a choice.
"You’d be Dora the Explorer," Bennett jokes, "but with more sarcasm."
"And you’d be Diego," she shoots back, smirking, “but with more tears.”
They both burst into laughter.
For the first time in a long while, their laughter isn’t just relief—it’s genuine. Joyful. Pure.
As the afternoon fades into a calm golden hue, they find themselves in front of the Cathedral Metropolitana de San Pablo.
The structure stands tall and timeless, the stained glass glimmering like gems against the setting sun.
As they step inside, silence wraps around them like a blanket.
“It’s been a while since we’ve been here,” Bennett says, his voice soft.
“Yeah,” Liz replies, her voice a whisper. “It’s so quiet. Just you and me.”
They walk slowly down the central aisle, the echo of their footsteps the only sound. The grandeur of the cathedral doesn’t overwhelm—it embraces them, grounding them.
They sit at one of the pews.
For a while, neither of them speaks. They simply breathe, hands entwined.
Then Bennett finally speaks.
“If it weren’t for Him… I don’t think we’d be here. Not like this.”
Liz nods, eyes glimmering with emotion.
“Everything we’ve been through… all the pain, the fear, the fights, the moments we wanted to give up—it was Him who saw us through. Even when we didn’t see it.”
Bennett looks up at the altar.
“He gave us people who stayed. Lessons we needed. And the time to heal.”
Liz gently leans her head on his shoulder.
“I’m just so thankful,” she whispers. “For second chances. For you.”
Bennett places a soft kiss on her forehead.
Then, from the side aisle, someone approaches.
“Bennett Lontoc?”
They turn—and standing there is Mr. Johann Florendo, Bennett’s old music teacher.
“Sir!” Bennett says, standing up in surprise.
Behind him are some of the church servers—familiar faces, familiar smiles.
“We’ve been praying for you,” Mr. Florendo says, clasping Bennett’s hands warmly. “It’s so good to see you both back. You look... alive.”
“Because of Him,” Liz replies, smiling.
They all walk to the center of the cathedral, and in unison, bow toward the Eucharist on the altar.
A sacred silence follows. A moment of pure reverence.
Afterward, they step outside and head to the grotto beside the cathedral.
Bennett lights a candle. Liz follows. And together, they kneel and pray.
“Lord,” Bennett whispers, “thank You—for everything. For the second life. For the strength. For the love.”
Liz continues, her voice soft. “We ask for Your guidance, Lord. May we continue to heal, to grow, to live meaningfully. Bless our friends. Our families. And every person who walked with us in the storm.”
They stay there a while longer. Breathing in peace.
As they exit the grotto, a pair of familiar voices call out.
“Oi! Lovebirds!”
It’s Adrian and Wyn—walking hand-in-hand, grinning wide.
“You two really can’t get enough of each other, huh?” Adrian teases.
“Look who’s talking,” Liz fires back, elbowing Bennett as the four of them burst into laughter.
The group decides to hang out together at Central Plaza, enjoying the calm breeze and the comfort of shared silence.
They talk about future plans, joke about the hospital food, and wonder where life will take them next.
As the sun begins to dip beyond the city skyline, Bennett and Liz quietly slip away, making their way home.
No monsters. No danger. No secrets.
Just the soft sound of footsteps on the pavement. Just the peaceful hum of a day well spent.
Just the beginning of the life they’ve longed for.
Weeks pass quietly, like the final notes of a symphony.
The wounds between families—long left unspoken and sore—begin to heal. It starts with a hesitant lunch at Bennett’s house. Liz’s guardians arrive, unsure, and Bennett’s parents greet them with that same guarded formality.
But one apology leads to another. Old misunderstandings are unearthed, truths are shared, and laughter—real, shared laughter—breaks the ice.
By the end of the afternoon, both families are sitting together over cups of salabat and pancit, the air warmer, lighter. Bridges long broken now have beams strong enough to hold futures.
Then comes the proudest day of all:
Wearing his graduation toga with a confident smile, he receives his diploma under the sunny canopy of the school quadrangle. His parents are beaming. Liz’s hands tremble while clapping too loudly. Even Adrian and Wyn bring banners with his name drawn in big, goofy letters.
Then at one point in the school papers, Ivan is kicked out of the Colegio and excommunicated from Ciudad Fernandina due to his doings.
And from that point on, Saturdays become sacred for another reason.
Every week, like clockwork, Bennett and Liz go on dates.
Sometimes to hidden museums and art alleys. Sometimes to beach sides an hour away. Other days, just a simple picnic at the city plaza, sharing one sandwich and a bottle of soda while lying on a mat, watching clouds.
They laugh. They grow. They love.
But one particular Saturday holds something heavier than the others.
At a quiet garden café overlooking the river, Bennett sets down his cup and looks at Liz intently.
“I’ve been waiting for the right time to say this,” he begins.
Liz, eyebrows raised, leans forward. “You’re not breaking up with me, are you?”
Bennett chuckles. “No, silly.”
He takes her hand gently.
“I’m going to college soon. I got in at Unibersidad del Norte.”
Liz’s eyes widen. “That’s not far from the Colegio, right?”
He nods. “It’s just a few rides away from Colegio Metropolitana. And… they’re offering my course—Bachelor in Teacher Education—completely free.”
Liz exhales in relief. “That's great. I’m proud of you.”
“But…” Bennett looks away for a moment. “I think I’ll need to retire from being an altar server. Maybe even from Colegio Male choir. I might only have time to sing for the university chapel choir.”
Liz’s smile falters. “Oh…”
“I know,” he says, squeezing her hand. “It’s a little sad. But you—you can still be there.”
Liz looks up at him.
“You can continue what I started,” Bennett says softly. “Be a lector. A choir member. Organist. Commentator. Heck, even an altar server if you want to be. Make it yours. Make it better.”
Her eyes glisten.
“Bennett,” she says, voice shaking. “You don’t know what you’ve done for me. I mean… before you, I only ever saw Catholicism as tradition. Obligations. Kneel-stand-sit-repeat. But you—”
She takes a breath.
“You showed me the beauty behind it. The meaning. The soul. How every song, every bow, every Mass—has love in it. You gave me that love.”
He watches her, eyes soft.
“And now,” Liz continues, “I want to serve not just because of you—but because I’ve seen Him, too. I’ve felt Him. And I want to share that same light you gave me to others.”
They smile. A sacred understanding passes between them.
Weeks later, inside the Cathedral Metropolitana de San Pablo, a Mass begins.
The sun pierces through the stained-glass windows, casting colored light on the marble floor.
At the choir loft stands Bennett, now a member of The Seed, the Unibersidad del Norte’s university chapel choir. He wears their signature white polo and a red neckerchief with a G-Clef embroidered delicately at the angle.
But their organist is absent that day.
Bennett turns to the pews where Liz is seated, and with a small smile, signals to her.
She stands, walking to the organ like she’s meant to be there all along.
From the front pews, Bennett’s parents, Liz’s guardians, Adrian, and Wyn all sit side by side—watching in awe.
Liz sets her fingers on the keys.
A moment of silence.
Then—
The first notes resound like soft waves rolling across the church.
And the choir begins:
Bennett only:64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQmUmRH4ov1
In omnibus amare64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpSN9xKQ4vs
In omnibus servire,64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn1CBK4r3Cz
In omnibus amare et servire domino,64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY4OJik73ff
In everything, love and serve the Lord.
All:64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZNG1u2803f
In omnibus amare64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHyQ4mweRoX
In omnibus servire,64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLIEMsBiBwp
In omnibus amare et servire domino,64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRIQttiTYS6
In everything, love and serve the Lord.
In omnibus amare64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡykiy5P1cRJ
In omnibus servire,64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgMTc0cZR4t
In omnibus amare et servire domino,64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpRNm6IFlGF
In everything, in everything, love and serve the Lord.
In omnibus amare64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRNIOo7uktS
In omnibus servire,64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ79mtsio5cW
In omnibus amare et servire domino,64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWR0HsQsKhQ
In everything, love and serve the Lord.
Male:64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrAhmrUeLv9
In omnibus amare et servire domino,
All:64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjwXCzrT5Cy
In everything, love and serve…
Bennett only:64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhoMSjC2l6G
…the Lord.
“True greatness is not found in being served, but in choosing to serve. When we love without condition and give without counting the cost, we begin to reflect the heart of God. In all things, may we love and serve the Lord.”
The End
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and then Add to home screen.