Chapter 6: There's never a road without a turning.

/
0 Comments



I woke up and noticed that the sun has already risen. I remembered falling asleep on Kuya’s lap, but I was now lying on my bed while Wade and Kuya were the ones slumbered on the couch where I was previously.


I sat up and took my phone out. Still nothing from him.


I took out a small box from my bedside table and opened it. Inside it were all the letters, cards, and even those little notes that he would secretly pass on during our Philosophy class. I decided to read his letter from our fifth month anniversary ― it was my favorite letter from him. *The Letter (Page 1)* *The Letter (Page 2)*


After reading it, I found myself crying again. I didn’t notice that Kuya was already awake. He sat beside me and took the letter from my hands and returned it inside the box. He held me close to him, “Did the two of you broke up?”


“How did―?” I cut myself off. I never told anyone about it, but he knew. He knew me better than I knew myself, just like always.


“I ain’t your brother for nothing.” He let go of me and wiped my tears.


Wade woke up just then and joined us. “Yes. He broke up with me,” I told them. I lowered my head and suddenly felt embarrassed that my brothers had to see me in my lowest point.


Wade gently patted my hand, “Ate, it's going to be okay.”


“I don’t want you to see me like this. I look pathetic,” I whined.


“Wends, we’re your brothers. There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Kuya assured me.


“I’m so sorry for making you both worry. I’m… s-sorry,” I said in tears.


“Come here you,” Kuya motioned as he and Wade enfolded me in their embrace. “We’re supposed to stick together through thick and thin so don’t ever think that way again, okay?”


“You don’t have to face your problems alone, Ate. Kuya and I are always here for you.”


Despite my current melancholy, for the first time in three days I’ve felt a warmth in my heart. I let go of our hug with a smile formed in my face.


“It’s nice seeing you smile again, Chi,” Kuya commented and smiled back. “So, what do you want to do with this box?”


“Throw it away.” But I knew myself that I had said those three words half-heartedly.


He just shook his head and chuckled to himself. He instantly knew I was lying. “Tell you what, I’ll keep it for the meantime so you won’t spent your mornings re-reading these letters. And when you’re finally sure about what to do with these, I’ll hand it back to you. Okay?”


I nodded and mumbled, “Thank you, Wade, Kuya.”


“You're always welcome, Ate Chi,” Wade replied and gave me a peck on the cheek.


Kuya messed my hair and grinned, “Anytime, kid.” He stood up and handed me my bath towel, “You should get yourself ready. Carrie would be coming anytime soon.”


“Carrie?”


“Uh-huh,” he nodded.


“She called yesterday asking for you so we… uh… we kind of… er… told her…,” Wade struggled for words.


I smiled at him and gently patted his hand, “It’s okay, Wade. I’ve been wanting to see her as well.”


After taking a bath and getting dressed, I found Carrie pronely slumped in my bed still with her shoes on.


“You could’ve at least removed your shoes,” I sighed.


She turned her head on my direction and got up, “Good, you’re done. Let’s go!” She suddenly grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the room.


“Wait. Where? I still haven’t had breakfast yet,” I protested as she towed me downstairs.


“Let’s just eat out, sweetie. And I’ve already told your folks, so no need to worry,” she informed me confidently.


“Well, can you at least let me greet them good morning?”


She grunted and rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever. I’ll wait in the car.”




I was just about to take a seat in her car when Carrie started me with: “Sweetheart, you look terrible.” She shook her head in displeasure.


“Carrie, please.” I exhaled heavily as I settled on the passenger's seat.


“Three days lang kita hindi na kita but, my goodness, you look worse than ever. Wendy Isabelle, tell me, except for breathing, skipping meals, sobbing, and crying yourself to sleep, what else did you do with your life?” Carrie would start calling me by my whole name when I'm being hauled over the coals.


Nevertheless, she was right. All I did for the past three days was shed tears and practice passing over even though the holy week had long ended.


“Isabelle, anorexia nervosa is so twentieth century,” she taunted.


“Carina, there is a grave difference between anorexia nervosa and anorexia per se,” I corrected her.


She rolled her eyes. “I know. Hello? I’m the med student here, duh? But, sweetie, it looks like you’ve already crossed the thin line between the two. And why didn’t you call me? Am I supposed to be your best friend for nothing?” And she went on and on with her sermon. As she ceaselessly continued her monologue, I couldn’t help but to stare idly outside the car window.


“Wendy, come on. Stop it,” she blurted out as she took a turn on Connecticut St. We were heading to Greenhills that day.


“Stop what?”


“That long steady look with nothing in particular. I know your suffering from all that post-break up drama and I’m supposed to be this ever-sensitive-empathizing girl friend, but I won’t do that sh*t. I won’t be that best friend this time.”


She stopped on parking entrance to get the ticket from the person in the booth. She took the ticket and put it in the coin holder in the car’s dashboard before she went on to find a parking space. “Because you’ll just continue feeling and looking sober,” she added.


“I am not sober. I’m heartbroken,” I said dryly.


“Oh, what’s difference! You feel morose in both situations. Finally,” she exclaimed when she saw an unoccupied slot. “Finding a vacant parking slot is the hardest thing in Greenhills. Well, second to finding the right shoe size,” she said as she turned off the engine.


We got off her car and I put on my sunglasses. What’s worse than being brokenhearted is a paparazzi encounter ― and the last thing I needed right now is to see my brokenhearted look printed on paper.


“I’m starving,” I grumbled.


“Oh, good. You’ve finally realized the importance of eating,” she mocked as we sauntered Greenhills where to dine.


As soon as we’ve finished breakfast, which could already be considered brunch, Carrie typically dragged me to every clothes store in Greenhills. In between her trying on some clothes, she would insist that I also try something on and literally push me inside a dressing room with the clothes that she picked for me.


“It looks good on you,” she chirped when I got out of the cubicle wearing a striped top.


“Can I change now?” I griped.


“Wait, try this one also.” She handed me another set of clothes to which I could not do anything but give it a go.


After trying on 10,000 clothes and entering 10,000 shops, I finally had the chance to sit down in the cushioned seats of Starbucks.


“Oh, Wends, I can’t wait to wear those red wedges,” she sang.


“I’m sure you are,” I said in a sarcastic tone. “But for now, you owe me a cappuccino. I’m so dead tired from all that pushing and dragging from store to store.”


She grinned, “Don’t you feel better now that we have new sets of clothes?”


“Carrie, cappuccino. I’m begging you. You’re killing me already,” I pleaded. She grunted and complainingly headed for the counter. “Venti,” I called out to her.


“Here you go,” she said as she handed me the For Here Mug of an ardent smelling cappuccino. Then she took out a stick of Marlboro Lights and placed it in between her lips.


“Will you please stop smoking? It’s bad for your health,” I stated the obvious.


“Wesley smokes. Even Ralph, too,” she animatedly countered.


“I can’t qualify that as a rebuttal. And please, Carrie, stop mentioning his name.”


“It’s starting already,” she muttered to no one in particular. “Plus, would you have preferred me using drugs rather than smoking?”


“What’s starting?” I prodded. “I dunno. Smoking, I guess,” I added.


“The stage of bitterness over an ex-boyfriend. Moreover, if you were your old self, you would have chosen none,” she said with a wink and a pat on my hand.


OMG. She’s right!


“Oh, God, I am changing.” I sat there gaping at Carrie in my own disbelief. This post-break up thing-y has definitely changed me drastically over the days. I wanted to refute her statement, both of it, but it was indeed true.


“Just hang in there, dearest. You’ll gradually be back to the old Chi-chi, just give it time. Besides, I’m liking this new you since you have agreed on the smoking part,” she chuckled.


I groaned, “I have no idea why you’re my best friend sometimes.” I rested my head in my chin and stared at her. “But I love you for it,” I added grinning.


“I love you, too, sweetie,” she replied and wink. “I’ll give you a kiss later once I’m done with this stick.”


“No, thank you. I have smelled your cigarette enough,” I waved her off and we both laughed.


We decided to head back home after finishing our coffees. While we were waiting for a go signal from the traffic lights, I suddenly looked at Carrie intently and told her that one fact that I’ve been fearing to admit. “Cars, I don’t know how I’m going to face each morning knowing that he won’t be around anymore.”


Even though she tried to hide and promised not to show her ever-sensitive-empathizing side, that side of hers was now looking back at me. “Oh, sweetie, you’ll face it like you always do. I know how much you love Ralph, but I’m sure you’ll find a man who won’t leave you not because you can’t live without him, but rather he can’t live without you.”


I was genuinely smiling at her. What she just said has brought me back my lost hope. “We need you to find your feet back again, Chi. And I promise you’ll have me by your side, post-break up or not,” she assured me and I believed her. I gave her a quick hug just before the lights went green.




I searched for his number in my phonebook and pressed the call button. “Ralph, meet me at Club Uno.”




I was already finishing up my second Scotch when he arrived. “I’m not going to ask you to reconcile with my sister, if that’s what you thinking,” I informed him.


He snapped his fingers at the bartender and mouthed, “Scotch, please.” He then took a seat on the bar stool beside me. “How is she?”


“Do you want to hear the truth or should I lie so it’ll make you feel better?” I replied with a sardonic tone. I lit a cigarette and offered him a pack. He took one out and I tossed him my lighter. He lit his cigarette and drew in a nicotine-filled air. He puffed it out with his mouth in a form of a circle, making smoke rings out of it.


“I’m marrying someone else,” he muttered. The bartender handed him his drink and he took a sip from it.


“Is the girl pregnant?”


He chuckled, “Hell, no.”


“Is it business-wise?” He stared at me in shock. “I may not be an economist, but I’m also part of running the family’s industry. I know how it goes in our world,” I shrugged.


He shook his head in disbelief. “I love her, Wesley. You know how much I love your sister. But I had to end my relationship with her to make things less complicated.”


I glared at him. “I entrusted her to you, Ralph. And up to the very last strand, you were not even brave enough to tell her the truth. It was the f*cking least you could do for her!”


“I had to do what I had to do.” He paused for a while to puff in another one from his cigarette. “The eldest heir is the only one who could save his family’s venture from vanishing into quicksand.”


“I will not lie for you, Ralph, especially not to my sister,” I reminded him.


For ten minutes or so, we just sat there quietly with the company of our nicotine roll and our liquor.


“Are you going to tell her that I’m getting married?”


“No,” I sternly said. “Because I want you to experience your share of the pain. You’ll have your time to think things through as to how are you going to tell her yourself. She can move on but the throbbing pain won’t stop bothering her unless you tell her the real reason.”


“A discreet torture. I could’ve guess it.” He lit another Dunhill stick. “But I know you can’t keep a secret from her. You made a promise to her. And Wade. All three of you,” he said after his first puff.


I stood up, “In your case, I’d give an exemption.” I paid for my drink and left.


Disclaimer

All events and characters in this story are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real events or real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The persons depicted in this story are actors and actresses and are only used for illustrative purposes.

Unauthorized reproduction and/or distribution of text, pictures, or any other information which appears in this site, in any form or by any means, without the permission of the Author is strictly prohibited.