CHAPTER 1 (Shattered Forgiveness)

The noonday sun, a persistent painter, bleached the already pale concrete of the university quad. Jeff, all five-foot-seven of his eighteen years, moved through it with a practiced ease, a second-year Marketing student who wore his public bisexuality like a well-tailored shirt – comfortable, acknowledged, and just a touch stylish. He was, to all appearances, the poster child for youthful exuberance and romantic exploration. His list of conquests, always whispered with a mixture of envy and admiration, stretched back to high school: a parade of girlfriends, each relationship a brief, bright spark, leaving behind the scent of shared laughter and fleeting intimacy. He’d known the soft curve of a woman’s waist under his hand, the breathless gasp against his lips, the familiar rhythm of two bodies entwined. He’d experienced the thrill of forbidden spaces – the dusty hush behind the school gym, the dew-kissed expanse of the football field under a blanket of stars, the quiet privacy of his own bedroom, and the temporary freedom of rented rooms. Yet, beneath the veneer of casual confidence, a subtle discord hummed. A persistent whisper, a melody he’d tried to ignore, kept returning to his inner ear.

It wasn’t that these encounters were unsatisfying; they simply felt…incomplete. A piece of the puzzle stubbornly refused to click into place. The realization had begun to crystallize during those same sexually charged high school years, amidst the very escapades that defined his public persona. There was an undeniable pull, a magnetic north to a different kind of compass. It was a glance held a moment too long with another boy, a flicker of understanding in a shared smile, a primal stir that resonated with a depth he hadn’t found in his experiences with women. It was an attraction that had always been there, simmering beneath the surface, now demanding to be acknowledged, to be explored, to finally be understood.

The air in their home, usually thick with the scent of simmering adobo or the lively chatter of a bustling household, also carried an unspoken truth: Jeff’s gender identity and his deep, abiding love for Riley. His mother, a woman whose eyes held the quiet wisdom of countless seasons, knew. And his three elder siblings, their bonds forged in shared childhoods and unspoken loyalties, knew too. This wasn’t a secret whispered in hushed tones, but a truth that simply existed, woven into the fabric of their family.

While the eldest, perhaps weighted by an unseen mantle of responsibility or a flicker of old-world expectation, initially raised an eyebrow, their fleeting hesitation was quickly absorbed by the broader tide of family affection. The overwhelming current was one of profound acceptance and unwavering support. For them, their “bunso”—their youngest—was a treasure, and his happiness, his radiant connection with Riley, was paramount. This wasn’t merely tolerance; it was a genuine embrace, a testament to a family dynamic that quietly redefined what it meant to be compassionate and progressive. Here, personal fulfillment and authentic love weren’t negotiable; they were the very cornerstones upon which their kinship was built, solidifying a bond that transcended any external judgment.

The family, like any well-oiled machine, had its designated cogs, each turning in precise synchronization, or so it seemed from the outside. At the apex was Joshua, twenty-eight years old, his brow often furrowed with the mild gravitas of a College Professor. He was the anchor, not just to his own young family – a wife and two bright-eyed daughters who, even now, were probably making joyful noise in their home – but also to his younger siblings. He was the one who, by unspoken agreement, had always taken the first difficult steps, whether into higher education or adult responsibility. It was a strange twist of fate that Jeff, the youngest, now navigated the very halls where Joshua held court, a silent parallel between their lives.

Then came Jeremy, twenty-five, a man whose hands, Jeff imagined, were as steady as his demeanor. As a Registered Nurse in one of Iloilo’s most exclusive and expensive hospitals, Jeremy moved in a world of quiet authority, where precision and calm were paramount. He was the one who could be counted on in a crisis, the practical backbone of the family, always offering a solution, rarely a complaint. His life, with its demanding shifts and life-or-death decisions, felt a universe away from Jeff’s, yet they were bound by the invisible threads of shared history.

And finally, like a vibrant splash of color in their predominantly female lineage, there was Jenny. Twenty-four, and the sole daughter, she was the family’s resident expert in the art of hospitality. As a Food and Beverage Supervisor in a chic Iloilo hotel, she orchestrated seamless experiences, ensuring that every guest’s need was anticipated and met. Jenny possessed a quick wit and an infectious laugh, a stark contrast to her brothers’ more reserved natures. She was the one who could disarm any tension with a well-timed joke, the one who saw the nuances others missed.

To the casual observer, they were a perfectly sculpted unit – successful, grounded, and thriving within the bustling heart of Iloilo City. But Jeff, the youngest, the one who carried his own quiet complexities, knew that beneath the polished surfaces of their lives, each sibling held their own untold stories, their own private battles, much like the one he was just beginning to truly confront within himself

A joyful cry pierced the air as Jeff burst into their home, “Happy Birthday, babe!” Riley’s surprise was palpable. This day, his birthday, was destined to be extraordinary, and Jeff, with the eager assistance of his mother Joyce and brother Jeremy, had orchestrated every detail. Jeff wasted no time, closing the distance between them to pull Riley into a fierce, loving embrace. “Did I surprise you, babe? Hehe.” Riley, twenty-three years young, stood at a charming five feet, six inches, with a physique that was neither slight nor imposing. His smile, a captivating echo of the famed actor Arjo Atayde, revealed dimples that danced with his delight. By day, he navigated the labyrinthine world of a call center. Their paths had intertwined on a gay dating site, and Riley marked a significant first for Jeff—his inaugural male partner. As a novice in this realm of love, Jeff poured his heart into making their connection not just special, but exquisitely sweet.

“Yes. Absolutely, babe. Thank you so much,” Riley murmured, his arms tightening around Jeff in return. A hint of vulnerability touched his voice. “I honestly thought you’d forgotten.” “Forget? Never, not in a million years, babe. Because I love you with all my heart.”

Riley chuckled, a playful accusation in his tone. “You really had me going earlier, making me believe there was some emergency here to drag me over.” “Hehe. It’s the only lie I’ve ever told you, babe,” Jeff confessed, a tender smile gracing his lips. “And it was all for you, love. Forgive me, babe?”

“It’s okay, babe. I love you, babe.”

“I love you too, babe.”

Their embrace deepened, a silent testament to the profound affection that bound them. But the intimate moment, steeped in their mutual devotion, was abruptly broken by an unexpected voice.

The warmth of the birthday celebration was momentarily paused by Joyce’s gentle but firm interjection. “Alright, enough with the lovebirds, you two,” she chided, a smile playing on her lips, hinting at a mother’s fondness for her son’s happiness. Her words served as a playful nudge, reminding them that while love was cherished, dinner awaited. Jeff and Riley, still basking in the glow of their reunion, readily obeyed, moving toward the welcoming spread on the dining table. The air was thick with the scent of home-cooked food, a comforting backdrop to the unfolding family moment. As Jeff settled in, his gaze scanned the room, a question forming in his mind. “Mom,” he asked, a slight furrow to his brow, “where are Ate Jenny and Kuya Joshua?” It was natural for him to expect the full family to be present for such a joyous occasion. Joyce, ever the pragmatist, answered simply. “Your sister’s still at work,” she stated, the demands of daily life taking precedence even on a special day. But when Jeff pressed about his older brother, “And Kuya?”, her reply was more reserved. “He’s in his room.” The brevity of her answer, combined with a subtle shift in the atmosphere, signaled that this absence carried a different weight. Jeff, perhaps sensing the unspoken, pushed further. “Why isn’t he joining us, Mom?” The question hung in the air, a delicate inquiry into a known, yet often unspoken, family tension. It was then that Jeremy, Jeff’s other brother, stepped in, his voice soft but clear, addressing the elephant in the room. “You know why, don’t you, Jeff?” Jeremy began, his eyes meeting Jeff’s. He then articulated the painful truth that lingered between Jeff and Joshua: “That he still can’t quite accept who you are.”

The words landed with a quiet thud. Jeff’s animated expression faltered, his eyes dropping to his plate, the vibrant energy of his surprise momentarily dimmed. He stared at the food, not seeing it, lost in the familiar sting of his brother’s disapproval regarding his identity. Jeremy, attuned to his younger brother’s emotional landscape, instinctively reached out, his hand gently patting Jeff’s back, a repetitive, soothing gesture. “It’s okay, little brother,” he reassured him, his voice a steady anchor. “Mom and I are here for you.” It was a simple declaration, yet it carried the immense weight of unconditional love and acceptance, a stark contrast to Joshua’s stance.

Jeff’s gaze slowly lifted to meet Jeremy’s, a faint, almost imperceptible smile gracing his lips. “Thanks, Kuya,” he murmured, his gratitude evident in the quiet sincerity of his tone. The moment was a testament to the strong bond he shared with his mother and Jeremy, a bond resilient enough to weather the storms of familial discord.

Breaking the poignant silence, Jeremy clapped his hands together, his voice taking on a lighter, more boisterous tone, a deliberate effort to lift the mood. “Oh, stop being so dramatic!” he exclaimed, a playful challenge in his words. “Let’s eat now, because we’ve got some serious drinking to do later!” His quip served as a welcome distraction, a reminder that despite the underlying tensions, this was still a celebration, a night for joy, togetherness, and perhaps, a bit of revelry. The family’s journey, like any other, was a tapestry woven with threads of love, acceptance, and the persistent, sometimes painful, challenge of understanding.

The clinking of silverware and the lingering scent of their meal still hung in the air as Jeremy and Riley, with a shared glance of anticipation, made their way to the living room. The promise of amber liquid and easy conversation beckoned. Meanwhile, in the heart of the home, Joyce and Jeff moved with practiced synchronicity, clearing away the remnants of their supper, their quiet industry a gentle counterpoint to the impending revelry.

“Now, listen here, bro,” Kuya Jeremy began, his voice a playful rumble, though a hint of steel lay beneath the jest. “Don’t you dare think of hurting our youngest, understand? Or playing fast and loose with his heart. Because if we ever get wind that you’ve brought tears to his eyes, you’ll be facing the full wrath of this family, and believe me, it won’t be pretty.”

Riley, usually quick with a retort, found himself momentarily silenced by the elder brother’s pronouncement. It was then that Jeff, with his easygoing presence, arrived and settled beside him, a comforting anchor. “Oh, Kuya,” Jeff chided gently, a soft laugh escaping him. “Don’t scare Riley. He’s genuinely kind, even if his face doesn’t always broadcast it. Hehehe.”

“You always did have a way with words, babe, hehehe,” Riley chuckled, nudging Jeff playfully. “But seriously, Kuya, no jokes this time. I would never make my babe cry. I love him fiercely, you know? I consider myself incredibly lucky to have him; he’s just the sweetest.” With that, a tender kiss and a warm embrace were exchanged, Riley’s gaze lifting to meet Jeremy’s, who simply offered a soft, knowing smile in return, a silent acknowledgment of their bond.

“I can only hope so, bro, I truly hope so,” Jeremy murmured, his eyes lingering on the affectionate pair. A sudden pang of playful longing struck him. “Seriously, stop that… you’re making me jealous over here!”

With a good-natured sigh, Jeremy pushed himself from his seat, the evening’s entertainment giving way to the call of slumber. He bid them goodnight, leaving Riley and Jeff as the sole occupants of the comfortable living room. But the quietude was brief. After a few minutes, Riley too, began to stir, the hour pulling him towards home.

“I’m heading out, babe,” he announced, a reluctance in his voice. “By the way, what time do you finish up tomorrow?”

“Around five in the afternoon. Why do you ask, babe?” Jeff inquired, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

“Ah… I’ll pick you up from your school tomorrow afternoon, okay?” Riley offered, a smile playing on his lips.

“Sounds good, babe. Just wait for me on the bench,” Jeff agreed.

“Alright, babe,” Riley affirmed, a finality in his voice. “I’m off. I love you… see you tomorrow, okay?” And with that, he leaned in, a soft kiss pressed to Jeff’s lips.

“Take care… I love you too,” Jeff returned, his voice warm with affection. As soon as Riley’s form disappeared from sight, Jeff secured the gate, then retreated into the comforting solitude of his own room, where sleep soon claimed him.

The Next Day

The shrill bell pierced the academic haze at precisely 5:10 PM, a jarring liberation from Jeff’s afternoon classes. His last lingering thoughts of equations and literature dissolved as he instinctively scanned the familiar schoolyard. There, perched on the designated bench, was Riley, a fixed point in his shifting world. A magnetic pull drew Jeff across the tarmac, their reunion a swift, almost ritualistic departure from the school’s confines. Their destination: the mall, a sanctuary of bright lights and culinary comforts, a temporary escape from the mundane. But even that solace was fleeting. After a scant three and a half hours, with the vibrant Ilonggo sunset bleeding across the western sky, Riley’s work beckoned. A quick, charged farewell exchanged on the doorstep, the quiet hum of his car fading into the evening air, leaving Jeff alone with the unfamiliar stillness of his home.

He pushed open the door, a lighthearted quip already forming on his lips about their unusual collective presence in the living room. “Why the grim faces? Someone’s having a wake, perhaps? Hehe,” he joked, expecting the usual playful banter. Instead, a chilling silence descended, heavy and suffocating. Every eye, from his mother’s tired gaze to his siblings’ unnervingly serious stares, was locked onto him. The air thrummed with an unspoken tension, a palpable weight that stole the breath from his lungs. “Did I… did I do something wrong?” The question was barely a whisper, the forced lightness gone, replaced by a sudden, sickening dread.

His gaze, desperate for an answer, finally landed on the unexpected figure. A man, his features etched with the same fifty-three years that marked his mother’s face, occupied a space that felt strangely intimate, yet utterly alien. Across from him, Joshua sat rigid, a silent sentinel, the polished center table a cold barrier between them. Jeremy stood like a shadow by Joshua’s side, while their mother clung to the man’s proximity on the sofa, her posture uncharacteristically stiff. From the kitchen, the distant clatter of Jenny preparing dinner was the only anchor to normalcy in the room’s escalating strangeness.

Then, the man rose. His eyes, dark and unreadable, bore into Jeff’s. And in an instant, a forceful embrace engulfed him. It wasn’t gentle; it was a desperate, almost possessive hold that stole the air from Jeff’s lungs and the power from his limbs. His mouth fell open, a silent gasp of utter bewilderment. His body, paralyzed by a shock that reverberated through his very bones, became as rigid as stone. Who was this man? This suffocating, undeniable presence? The questions screamed in his mind, yet no sound escaped, only a terrifying, crushing confusion.

“Son?… Is that truly you?” The words, a ragged whisper, tore through the suffocating silence. He was a ghost, a specter from a past Jeff had buried, yet his voice held an aching familiarity. “You’ve grown so big, so handsome.” The stranger’s gaze, raw with a desperate yearning, pinned Jeff in place. “I’ve missed you so much, son… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry your dad abandoned you.”

Jeff could only choke out a strangled “Po?” The ground beneath him crumbled. His world, meticulously constructed on a foundation of lies, shattered. His father? Alive? But his mother, her face etched with a grief so profound it had aged her beyond her years, had sworn he’d perished in the Iloilo City plane crash, the very flight that should have brought him home. A bitter, metallic taste filled his mouth – the taste of betrayal. Had his mother, his siblings, everyone he loved, woven such a cruel deception around him? He stood paralyzed, caught in the devastating wreckage of his shattered reality.

Then, his mother’s anguished sob, “Yes, son… he’s your father,” ripped through the fragile remnants of his composure. “But you said, dad died in an accident,” Jeff whimpered, even as his father’s arms, strong and unfamiliar, closed around him in a suffocating embrace. “Yes… I only told you that because I couldn’t bear for you to hate your father,” his mother explained, her voice a broken whisper, tears carving twin paths down her face, a desperate plea for understanding in her ravaged eyes.

“Why? What did he do to us, Mom?” Jeff’s voice cracked, a raw wound of anger and confusion.

“He abandoned us. He found a new family,” she confessed, each word a hammer blow to his already fractured heart. “I’m sorry, son, so terribly sorry I hid his existence from you.”

Jeff’s eyes, brimming with unshed tears, locked with his mother’s. In that agonizing moment, the dam of his composure burst. He ripped himself from his father’s embrace, the sudden void a physical ache. He stumbled out of the gate, the raw, guttural sobs that tore from his throat echoing the shattering of his soul on the unforgiving concrete. His father followed, a silent, desolate figure, collapsing beside him.

“Why did you leave us?” Jeff’s voice was a ragged, bleeding whisper, laced with a venomous cocktail of fury and excruciating pain. He scrubbed furiously at the tears blurring his vision, near his nose, a desperate attempt to wipe away the agonizing truth. “Your reasons… they better be enough, even if they only lessen this agony you’ve inflicted on us by a single, agonizing fraction.”

“I had no choice, son. I never wanted to leave you,” his father choked out, his voice heavy with a lifetime of unspoken sorrow, as he began to unravel the dark, tangled tapestry of their fractured past.

William’s voice, thick with a painful, long-held secret, finally broke. He laid bare the truth to Jeff, a truth woven with threads of desperation and parental coercion. He spoke of Ming, the woman his parents had forced him to marry—a union steeped in betrayal given his existing family in the Philippines.

“So, Ming was the mistress, your new wife?” Jeff’s voice was a harsh, disbelieving rasp, the question a raw accusation.

“No, son… she’s gone… she died when I was in China,” William choked out, the memory a fresh wound that brought tears to his eyes. “I never understood why, but I blamed your mother for her death. That’s why I left, why I sought someone new.” His gaze, heavy with a mixture of regret and expectation, met Jeff’s. He watched as his son’s face contorted, tears streaming down, a fury simmering beneath the surface. William braced himself, ready for the storm he knew was coming.

“And it was that easy for you to just replace us? You must think so highly of yourself, don’t you?” Jeff’s voice was a venomous whisper, his respect for the man crumbling into dust. “We were just puppies, something you could abandon and then return to whenever it pleased you…” The words were laced with a bitter resentment that had festered for years. “You know… when I was in elementary school, I used to ache with envy watching my classmates. Their fathers were always there. Dropping them off at school… hugging them whenever they wanted… even just a simple kiss. But me?” Jeff’s voice broke, the tears now a torrent. “Nothing… where were you when I struggled with my girlfriends, needing a father’s advice? You weren’t there, were you?? And where were you when all I needed was a father’s hug?………. Mom did everything.”

“Jeff… son…” William reached out, a desperate plea in his outstretched hand, but Jeff recoiled, a physical barrier erected between them.

“Don’t you ever call me son again… not once were you a father to us.” With that cutting indictment, Jeff turned and disappeared into the house, leaving William alone in the suffocating silence, the weight of his past pressing down on him. He had no choice but to return to his own new reality, his new family, leaving behind the shattered fragments of the one he had abandoned.

The silence in the air after Jeff’s outburst was thick, almost suffocating. William could still feel the phantom sting of his son’s accusatory gaze, the searing pain of words left unsaid, but fiercely communicated. He knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that pushing further, attempting to bridge the chasm that had opened between them, would only deepen the wound. So, with a heavy, leaden despair, he turned his back on the past, on the lingering ghosts of his former life, and drove towards the present, towards the quiet comfort of his new home. He clung to the frail hope that perhaps, just perhaps, the turbulent emotions churning within Jeff would eventually subside, leaving behind a clear space for understanding, for the truth of his mother’s tragic fate, and for the complex reasons behind William’s own wrenching departure.

Natalie, his refuge, his anchor, was a testament to the life he had painstakingly rebuilt. A decade younger, her vibrancy and effortless elegance illuminated their home. Her clothing, often subtly revealing, spoke of a woman comfortable in her skin, radiating an allure that was both captivating and endearing. And then there was Jean, their fifteen-year-old daughter, a breathtaking echo of Natalie’s beauty, a girl whose innate grace and striking features seemed destined for a spotlight, a natural magnetism that hinted at a burgeoning artistry.

As William entered, the familiar scent of home, a blend of Natalie’s perfume and Jean’s faint floral essence, enveloped him. Natalie was there, a warm presence, her smile a beacon. “Hello, honey,” she greeted, her voice a soothing melody as she moved to him, her lips soft against his. He sank onto the sofa, the journey having drained him of both physical and emotional energy. “How was your visit with them?” she inquired, her gaze searching, tender. “Did they finally forgive you after all these years?”

A sigh, heavy with resignation, escaped William’s lips. The memory of Jeff’s face, contorted with a pain so raw it mirrored his own, flickered before his eyes. “Yes… they did forgive me,” he confessed, the words tasting like ash. “All of them, but one.”

Natalie’s hand, cool and comforting, settled on his arm. “Who?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, yet infused with deep concern.

“Jeff… my youngest son,” William uttered, the name catching in his throat. He recounted the agonizing moment of revelation, the shattering of Jeff’s world as he learned of his father’s existence, of the tangled web of circumstances that had led to their abandonment.

Natalie listened, her expression one of profound empathy. When William finished, she gently wiped a tear from his cheek. “I understand Jeff’s reaction, hon,” she murmured, her voice filled with a quiet strength. “It’s an unimaginable shock, a pain he’s carried for so long. But you are still his father. That truth, that bond, can never be truly broken. The time will come, I believe, when your son will find it in his heart to forgive you.” Her eyes, luminous with affection, held his. “Don’t lose hope, hon… I love you very much.”

A fragile smile touched William’s lips. Her unwavering faith, her unconditional love, was a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of his past. “I love you very much too, hon,” he replied, his voice thick with gratitude. He squeezed her hand, a silent acknowledgment of the strength she lent him. “Thank you for understanding me, for embracing this complicated past of mine. You and Jean… you’ve both been swept into my mess, and you’ve never faltered.” Natalie simply returned his smile, a radiant affirmation of their bond, and sealed their unspoken vows with a tender, lingering kiss that promised solace and a future, however uncertain, shared.

To be continued…

Chapter 2 (Jeff’s Anchor)

The harsh light of Saturday morning did little to soothe the tension brewing in the Dy household. Outside Jeff’s stubbornly silent bedroom, his mother, Joyce, and brother, Jeremy, stood vigil, their frantic knocks echoing the gnawing worry in their hearts. Eleven o’clock. And still, nothing.

“Mom, anything? Has Jeff stirred?”

Jeremy’s voice was tight with concern as his mother continued her futile knocking.

“Still nothing,” she despaired, her knuckles rapping once more. “Jeff? Son? It’s late. Come out, please. Eat something.”

But the room remained a tomb of silence, offering no solace. “Let me try, Mom,”

Jeremy volunteered, stepping forward. “Maybe he’ll listen to me.” His knuckles met the wood. “Little brother… you’re supposed to see Riley today, aren’t you? Come on… get out of bed. Get dressed. Look at the time!”

Just then, the sharp voice of Joshua, Jeff’s other brother, sliced through the quiet, fresh from his shower. “Oh, stop coddling him, both of you! That gay boy is just being a dramatic diva, probably just craving attention, that’s why he’s locked himself away.”

“Quiet, Kuya!” Jeremy’s retort was a whip-crack, his body tensing in defense of his brother. “Of course, our youngest is shattered! He truly believed Dad was dead, and we let him live that lie! We can’t blame Jeff for this, not when we’re just as guilty!”

“Huh!” Joshua scoffed, his disdain palpable. “Why is he like this? So dramatic. He should be grateful we kept the full truth from him.”

“Grateful? For what?” Jeremy demanded, his voice rising.

“Because he wouldn’t be parading around like that if he’d known our father was alive. He’d probably still be pretending to be a real man if Dad was in the picture.”

“Your words cut deep, Kuya. It’s like you’re tearing down your own flesh and blood.”

“I have no gay brother, Jeremy. The Jeffrey I once knew as my brother… he’s dead.”

A cold fury ignited in Jeremy. He lunged, his fist cocked, but their mother’s desperate cry ripped through the air, stopping them cold. “What are you two doing?! Why must you always fight?!”

“It’s your golden child, Mom!” Joshua spat, pointing an accusing finger at Jeremy. “He’s defending his gay brother!”

“Unlike you, who condemns Jeff just for who he is!” Jeremy roared back, his voice raw with pain.

“Silence! Both of you!” Joyce’s voice cracked with strain. “Joshua, get dressed and go to work!” she commanded her eldest. “Don’t you have responsibilities at the office? What are you waiting for?”

“Fine. Fine. I’m going. I’ll get dressed…” Joshua muttered, retreating into his room.

Joyce then turned her weary gaze to Jeremy. “…and you…”

“Oh, what now? What have I done wrong, Mom?”

“Why did you even bother with your brother? You know how he is.”

“He went too far, Mom. I can’t stand to see our youngest in so much pain, and then Kuya just twists the knife,” Jeremy lamented, his voice heavy. “He’s already broken by what he found out, and Kuya just keeps tormenting him.”

“Oh, Jeremy,” Joyce sighed, a profound weariness settling over her. “Your brother’s heartbreak will eventually fade. We just need to give him time… time to process.”

“Okay, Mom. I’m leaving. I’m on duty.”

“Aren’t you going to eat, son?”

“No, I’ll grab something at the hospital cafeteria.”

“Alright, son. Be careful out there.”

Within the oppressive confines of his bedroom, Jeff remained chillingly detached from the furious clamor that raged just beyond his door. His world had shrunk to the four walls of his despair, a suffocating space where he floated, disconnected, on a sea of betrayal. Prostrate on his bed, his gaze was fixed, vacant, on the unblemished ceiling, a stark contrast to the turbulent storm within him. Silent, scalding tears tracked rivulets down his temples, carving paths of agony as they met the pillow. The revelation, a cruel, blunt force, had struck him down: his father, alive. And the family he had clung to, the very foundation of his trust for eighteen agonizing years, had woven a tapestry of lies around him.

Eighteen years. A chasm of time, an eternity shaped by a profound absence. A life lived without the unwavering presence, the guiding hand, the unconditional love of a father—a love that, he now understood, had been meticulously, brutally, withheld. Each passing year, each milestone, each lonely moment had been tainted by a carefully constructed deceit, a wound that festered with every silent tear.

It was the creeping twilight, nearing six in the evening, when Jeff finally, reluctantly, dragged himself from the sanctuary of his pain. His eyes, swollen crimson and raw, were stark proof of the emotional tempest that had ravaged him. He drifted like a ghost into the kitchen, a desperate, instinctual search for his mother, but found only echoing silence. The house felt vast and empty, a mirror to the hollow ache in his chest. A profound, physical hunger, starkly defiant of his emotional torment, finally compelled him to move. He prepared a simple meal, scooping rice from the pot, a solitary, unseeing figure at the dining table, each mouthful a mechanical act.

He drank, gulping water, the sudden rush causing him to choke, a violent cough wracking his frame as he forced down the dry food. As the nearly empty glass clattered back onto the table, a flicker of movement at the periphery of his vision pierced through his haze. Someone had entered the house. A desperate, unbidden hope stirred within him. Jeff pushed away from the table, a sudden surge of raw need propelling him towards the living room. And there, bathed in the soft, dying light filtering through the window, stood a familiar silhouette. It was the one soul he craved, the singular solace in his utter devastation, the anchor capable of pulling him back from the abyss. It was Riley.

Riley, his perception keen, had seen Jeff approach and rose from his seat. His gaze, an ocean of tender understanding, locked with Jeff’s raw, tear-swollen eyes. A soft, knowing smile touched his lips, and his arms, instinctively, opened wide, an unspoken invitation to a haven of warmth and acceptance. Without a moment’s hesitation, Jeff surged forward, a broken wave crashing into solid ground, burying himself in Riley’s embrace. He clung to him with the desperation of a drowning man, and the dam of his carefully contained grief finally shattered, unleashing a raw, guttural sob that tore from his very soul.

“Shhh… that’s enough crying, my love… you’re making me cry too,” Riley murmured, his voice a low, soothing balm against Jeff’s ear, his own eyes misting as he held him. With gentle hands, he cupped Jeff’s face, his thumbs tenderly wiping away the tracks of tears, his gaze unwavering, deep into Jeff’s shattered eyes. “I am here for you, always, do you understand? I don’t possess the words, nor do I know the actions that will mend this pain… but know this, deeply, truly, forever: I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you beyond measure…” He then lowered his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Jeff’s forehead, a silent vow of unwavering devotion, before drawing him back into a fierce, comforting embrace, a shield against the world’s harsh truths.

---

As the grocery bags were finally set down, their contents echoing the mundane rhythm of daily life, Joyce began the familiar dance of dinner preparation. The warm, mingling scents of garlic and spices slowly began to conquer the stale air of unspoken tensions. It was Riley, her sons earnest boyfriend, who approached her with a hesitant, almost fragile request.

“Tita?” he ventured, his voice barely a murmur above the gentle sizzle from the stove.

“Oh, yes, dear?” Joyce turned, her hands momentarily stilling in their task.

“I hoped to ask your permission to take Jeff out tomorrow,” Riley explained, his gaze sincere and pleading. “With it being Sunday, I thought a change of scenery, perhaps a distraction, might help him to forget, even just for a little while, the turmoil of last night.” A poignant, almost painful smile softened Joyce’s features, and a shimmer of unshed tears gathered in her eyes at his profound thoughtfulness. She reached out, her hands enclosing his, a silent gesture of gratitude and solace.

“Of course, dear… there’s no objection,” Joyce murmured, her fingers gently squeezing his as their eyes momentarily met, then shifted towards the living room where Jeff sat, a solitary figure absorbed in the flickering glow of the television. “You know… Jeff is truly blessed to have you. You are his rock, there for him in his darkest hour… when he needs understanding… and unconditional love.” A single tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek, which she hastily wiped away with the back of her hand. “My son, he made no error, no mistake at all, in choosing you.”

“I love your son deeply, Auntie,” Riley confessed, his voice thick with a raw honesty that touched Joyce’s heart. “I swore an oath to him that I would never abandon him… especially not now, when his need for me is absolute.”

“I know,” Joyce whispered, her voice a fragile testament to her relief. She leaned forward, pressing a tender, maternal kiss to his forehead. “Oh, and by the way, darling, from this moment forward, please just call me ‘Mom.’ No more ‘Tita,’ alright?”

A genuine, warm smile finally broke through Riley’s quiet solemnity. “Okay, Tita… I mean, Mom!” he corrected himself, a light, shared chuckle momentarily dispelling the heavy atmosphere, a small, precious moment of levity. Jeff, engrossed in the living room, remained utterly oblivious to the profound exchange that had just unfolded.

Sunday dawned, bringing with it not the hoped-for peace, but a fragile, almost palpable tension.

“Hey, Babe,” Riley’s voice was a soft summons, nudging Jeff, whose gaze, though directed at him, remained utterly blank, a void reflecting the turmoil within. “Are you even hearing me…? I’ve been speaking for ages.”

“Sorry, babe… just lost in thought,” Jeff mumbled, his voice distant, thin as smoke. “Still consumed by thoughts of your father?” Riley probed gently, a thread of weary patience woven into his tone. “Didn’t I implore you to set that aside? I brought you here, to the bustling heart of the mall, precisely to grant you even a fleeting moment of forgetfulness.”

“Sorry again, babe, it won’t happen again,” Jeff murmured, the apology devoid of genuine conviction, a reflex rather than remorse.

“Don’t apologize to me. You are not at fault… I understand,” Riley insisted, his voice a steady anchor in Jeff’s stormy sea. Jeff fell silent once more, offering only a faint, almost imperceptible smile in return, a mask for the chaos beneath.

“What were you talking about earlier, anyway?” Jeff eventually asked, a strained attempt to re-engage, to pull himself back from the precipice of his thoughts.

“Oh, right… I was thinking, for our fourth monthsary, we could go out-of-town,” Riley explained, a hopeful light flickering in his eyes, a desperate bid to ignite some spark in Jeff. “Perhaps Guimaras. We could go island-hopping. How does that sound, babe?”

“Huh? Why?” Jeff’s response was flat, devoid of any flicker of enthusiasm, a stark contrast to Riley’s hopeful tone.

“Hmm. Just for a change of scenery. It’s getting a bit… monotonous, always dating here at the mall,” Riley offered, his voice laced with an almost desperate lightness.

“Monotonous…? So, does that mean you’re growing tired of me? Is that the implication?” Jeff’s voice was suddenly sharp, laced with a bitter, cutting edge that made Riley flinch.

“Hey… it’s not like that, babe,” Riley swiftly countered, reaching to gently take Jeff’s hand, feeling the tremors of raw emotion radiating from him. “I just desire new adventures, with you by my side.”

“New adventures, you say??” Jeff retorted, his hand jerking away as if burned. “Why don’t you try leaping from a cliff if you’re so eager for ‘adventure’?”

“Babe, please… I was merely asking for your opinion. Why are you so hostile?” Riley’s voice, though still gentle, carried a distinct note of hurt, a shadow crossing his face.

“Well. I refuse… Okay??” Jeff snapped, his gaze hardening into an impenetrable wall. “Hmph. My babe is so grumpy,” Riley sighed, a faint, wounded smile playing on his lips, a flimsy veil for his profound disappointment.

“Who wouldn’t be furious at the utterly meaningless things you’re saying…” Jeff spat, his accumulated frustration and pain finally erupting, poisoning the air between them.

“Ouch… that hurts,” Riley whispered, his shoulders slumping, the weight of Jeff’s bitter pain pressing down on him, a crushing burden on his unwavering love.

The harsh echoes of Jeff’s recent outburst still lingered, a bitter aftertaste in the air, but as minutes stretched into a fragile silence, a profound realization began to dawn upon him. His anger, a shield he’d clung to, had unjustly lashed out at Riley—the unwavering anchor in his storm, the only soul who truly grasped the raw, bleeding depths of his pain. “Babe, I’m sorry,” he finally whispered, the words a fragile offering.

“Sorry for what, babe?” Riley’s voice was a gentle current, a stark contrast to the turbulent emotions Jeff wrestled with.

“For everything I said, for how I acted just now.”

“No, babe. It’s genuinely okay. I understand, completely. I know the immense weight you’re carrying,” Riley reassured him, his touch a comforting warmth that sought to mend the frayed edges of Jeff’s spirit. “Perhaps my timing was simply off, my efforts clumsy.”

“Still, babe. I truly am sorry.”

“I told you, no apologies are needed. You’ve done nothing wrong, nothing at all, okay?” Jeff nodded, a silent admission of his inner struggle. “Come on now, finish your meal so I can take you home.

After their quiet meal, a solemn understanding settling between them, they began their journey home. As the jeepney rattled through the bustling, twilight streets of Iloilo City, Jeff’s mind, no longer clouded by the immediate sting of confrontation, drifted back to the agonizing revelations of Friday night. A new clarity, fragile yet potent, began to pierce through his grief. He saw now, with a clarity that brought a fresh sting to his eyes, that his mother and siblings were not villains in this narrative; their actions, born of a different kind of pain, had been understandable, perhaps even necessary, in their own misguided way.

They arrived home just as the streetlights began to hum to life, around seven in the evening. Stepping through the familiar doorway, Jeff’s eyes found his mother, a quiet silhouette on the sofa, her gaze fixed on the television. He moved to sit beside her, a silent shadow of a boy, a son seeking comfort.

“How are you, my son?” Joyce’s voice was soft, laced with a familiar, aching concern. “Are you feeling any better now?” He managed a small nod, a quiet affirmation. Joyce’s right arm stretched out, a comforting weight settling around his shoulders, drawing him into her warmth. “I know you’re not entirely well yet, Jeff. But please, my dear, grant your father a chance to redeem himself. This—this profound wound—is partly my fault too.”

Jeff turned to his mother, his brow furrowed with a sudden, protective alarm. “You are not at fault, Mom. This is his burden, his failing, for not standing by you, for not fighting for you against his own family. Mom, please don’t speak that way. You’re being a martyr for nothing.”

“It is far better to be a martyr,” Joyce replied, her voice imbued with a quiet, resolute strength that surprised him, “if it means safeguarding my children, if it means you all have a chance at a different life.”

“My God, Mom! We’re living in the 21st century now!” Jeff’s voice rose, a sharp, sudden crack in the tender quiet, echoing with frustration. “Be strong! Fight for what’s rightfully yours! That kind of thinking, that endless sacrifice, it’s obsolete now!”

“What would you have me do, Jeff? Fight?” she countered, her gaze unwavering, her eyes holding a deep, ancient weariness. “Whatever I do now, the past is done. There is nothing left for me but to accept everything your father did, everything he took.”

Jeff lowered his head, the crushing weight of her words pressing down on him, silencing his rebellion. “I just want you to show him, Mom, that we can thrive, that we can live our lives fully, richly, even without him. That his absence doesn’t define us.”

Joyce’s hand moved, stroking Jeff’s back, a repetitive, soothing rhythm that spoke of endless, patient love. “I understand your heart, son. But you also need a father, a male figure, to guide you, to show you the way.”

“But I don’t want him, Nanay. I don’t need him,” Jeff insisted, his voice tight with lingering resentment.

“You do need him… Believe me,” Joyce insisted, her voice resonating with deep conviction, “for your own peace. So, please, forgive your father.”

“And you, Mom? Have you forgiven him?” “Yes. I have forgiven him, despite the profound agony he inflicted upon me, the years of quiet suffering. It was a searing pain at first, but I am at peace now, my son,” Joyce confessed, her voice a balm to his aching soul. She took Jeff’s hand, squeezing it gently, a silent plea. “So you too, Jeff. Forgive your father, for your own sake.”

Jeff remained silent, contemplating his mother’s words, the wisdom of her enduring strength. A reluctant truth began to take root in his mind: his mother, in her quiet fortitude, was right. The man he harbored such vehement resentment for was, undeniably, still his father, and the path to his own healing might lie in releasing that anger. “Okay, Nanay, I will try to forgive him,” he finally conceded, the words heavy but resolute, a promise he made to himself as much as to her.

“I have absolute faith that you will, Jeff…” Joyce leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek, her touch a blessing. “I love you, my son.”

“I love you too, Nanay.”

After their heartfelt, profound conversation, a sense of quietude descended upon Jeff. He quickly prepared for bed, shedding the day’s emotional weight. Riley, having made the unwavering decision to forgo work, was already settled beside him, a protective presence, his steadfast devotion a silent promise against the lingering shadows of Jeff’s pain. Side by side, in the gentle embrace of their shared slumber, they drifted into the solace of the night.

---

Jeff stirred from the lingering embrace of sleep, his senses slowly unfurling. He found himself enveloped, entirely cocooned, in Riley’s warmth, his head nestled perfectly against the rhythmic thrum of his lover’s heart. He blinked away the last vestiges of slumber, his gaze immediately seeking the face of the man who held him so close.

“Good morning, babe,” Riley murmured, his voice a low, tender rumble against Jeff’s ear.

“Good morning, babe,” Jeff returned, his own voice still thick with sleep. “Have you been awake long?”

“Not really. Just moments ago, I think. We should probably get up, though.”

“Just a little longer, babe,” Jeff mumbled, tightening his grip, burying his face deeper into Riley’s chest. “I’m still enjoying this, after all.”

“Oh, alright then,” Riley chuckled softly, his arms returning the affectionate squeeze. “I know you’re just being extra cuddly this morning.”

“Of course I am. It’s not every day we get to sleep next to each other, you know,” Jeff teased, a small, contented sigh escaping him.

“Don’t you want us to do this often?” Riley’s question was soft, yet it carried a surprising weight, a deeper meaning threading through his words.

“What do you mean?” Jeff pulled back slightly, his eyes, still heavy with sleep, now laced with a hint of curious inquiry.

“What I mean is, don’t you want us to get married and live in the same house?” Riley clarified, his gaze unwavering, full of a future he clearly envisioned for them. “To be together until we’re old and gray. With our kids running around, filling our home.”

“Wow. When you say ‘kids,’ it’s like I actually have a womb, babe,” Jeff joked, a small, genuine laugh bubbling up from deep within him, a welcome lightness in his spirit.

“Well, why not? What if we try repeatedly? Maybe we’ll make one,” Riley teased back, a mischievous glint in his eye, “Hehe.”

“You truly are quite the joker, babe,” Jeff retorted playfully, swatting lightly at Riley’s arm.

“But I’m serious, babe. Don’t you want that?” Riley’s expression shifted, his gaze now earnest, reflecting the profound gravity of his question, the heartfelt proposal hidden within.

“Hmm. Of course, I do. More than anything,” Jeff confessed, his voice softening. “But…” He hesitated, a subtle shadow crossing his face.

“But what…?” Riley prompted gently, sensing the unspoken reservation.

“Isn’t same-sex marriage still not legal here in the Philippines?” Jeff whispered, the harsh reality of their nation’s laws a small, stark barrier between their shared dream.

“Hmm. No, it isn’t,” Riley confirmed, his voice holding a hint of shared regret for their country’s limitations.

“So how will we get married then?” The question was tinged with a quiet desperation.

“Who ever said we’re getting married here in the Philippines?” Riley’s voice held a note of quiet triumph, a secret he was finally ready to unfurl, a vision of possibilities beyond their borders.

“Huh? So that means we’ll get married in another country?” Jeff’s eyes widened, a flicker of bewildered hope igniting within them.

“Yup. Exactly right,” Riley affirmed, a broad, confident smile gracing his lips. “…and our baby, we’ll also have that in another country, utilizing their advanced technology there.”

“Really? But babe, that’s going to be incredibly expensive,” Jeff pointed out, the practical side of him, ever grounded, surfacing with a touch of anxiety.

“Hmm. Yes. Expensive. But you know, if you have a dream, truly, nothing’s impossible?” Riley’s voice was imbued with conviction, his eyes shining with unshakeable determination. “You are my dream, babe… and our future family.” He reached out, taking Jeff’s hand, his fingers intertwining with Jeff’s as if their destinies were already irrevocably woven together. He then lifted it to his lips, pressing a tender, lingering kiss to his knuckles, a silent, powerful vow. “I’ll save up for you, for us. Every single cent.”

Jeff could only smile, a genuine, radiant smile that illuminated his entire face, reaching deep into his eyes, as he absorbed Riley’s heartfelt words, his grand vision. In that moment, nestled safely in his lover’s arms, an undeniable certainty settled over him: they were truly meant for each other, for a lifetime woven together by boundless love and unwavering dreams, no matter the obstacles.

To be continued…

Chapter 3 (The Price of Truth)

Minutes later, the bathroom door exhaled a wisp of steam as Jeff emerged, the last vestiges of his morning ablutions clinging to his skin. His movements were swift, economical; the snap of fabric, the rustle of clothes, all a practiced choreography for the impending demands of his university schedule. As he and Riley stepped from the bedroom’s private sanctuary, the familiar hum of the Iloilo home seemed to falter, the air thickening with an uninvited presence. There, occupying the worn comfort of the living room sofa, sat his father, William, an anachronism in this space, while his mother, Joyce, moved with a forced calm in the kitchen, a domestic counterpoint to the sudden, jarring intrusion.

“What are you doing here?” Jeff’s voice, usually modulated by the gentle cadence of their household, was a blade of tempered steel, sharp and unforgiving. It wasn’t a question seeking an answer, but a gauntlet thrown, a challenge hurled across years of abandonment and absence.

William, his features carefully composed, offered a brittle, almost apologetic smile. “Ah, son… I just came to visit. I’ve missed you all.” His words, laced with an artificial sweetness, felt like a hollow echo in the charged atmosphere.

Jeff’s jaw clenched, a muscle working furiously beneath his skin. “Visit…?” The word was a venomous hiss, dripping with contempt. “There’s no one dead in this house for you to visit.” The brutal honesty, the raw accusation, ripped through the fragile veneer of civility, exposing the festering wound of their past.

“Jeffrey!” Joyce’s voice, a sudden, sharp intake of breath, cut through the tension from the kitchen. It was a reprimand, yes, but more, a desperate plea for decorum, a futile attempt to stem the tide of his son’s righteous anger.

Yet William, remarkably, held his ground, his placid smile unwavering, as if Jeff’s lacerating words were nothing more than a passing breeze, inconsequential and unheard. “Son… are you heading to class now? Would you like me to drive you?” His tone was almost saccharine, an infuriatingly solicitous counterpoint to Jeff’s barely suppressed fury. It was a calculated move, an attempt at paternal care that felt utterly disingenuous.

“No, thanks,” Jeff retorted, the words clipped and disdainful. “I’m old enough. I’m perfectly capable of getting to and from school by myself.” The implicit message hung heavy in the humid Iloilo air: he had navigated the world, found his way, and built a life perfectly well without William’s intervention.

William’s smile finally faltered, a fleeting shadow crossing his face. “Is that so? Even just for today, son. Would that be alright?” There was a tremor in his voice now, a raw vulnerability, a naked plea that Jeff couldn’t ignore, though he desperately wanted to.

Jeff’s gaze, hot with resentment, involuntarily flickered to his mother. Her face, usually an open book of emotion, was a tightly drawn mask, yet in the depths of her eyes, a silent plea resonated—a desperate, unspoken message. A heavy sigh escaped Jeff’s lips, a reluctant surrender. His shoulders slumped, the fight draining from him, leaving only a weary resignation. “Hmmm. Fine,” he conceded, the word dragged from the very depths of his being. “If that’s what you want.” It was a capitulation, not of willingness, but of an exhausted acquiescence to an unwelcome, unsettling intrusion that threatened to shatter the fragile peace of his existence. The thought of the looming academic day, a haven from this domestic turbulence, felt almost like a lifeline.

“Hello, Tito. Good morning,” Riley interjected, his voice a surprising anchor in the room’s escalating tension, extending a hand to William. The gesture was both respectful and disarming, a deliberate attempt to inject a semblance of normalcy into the strained atmosphere. “I’m Riley.” William’s gaze, previously fixed on Jeff with an intensity that bordered on unsettling, softened infinitesimally as it shifted to the younger man. “Good morning to you too,” he responded, a flicker of genuine curiosity, almost warmth, touching his features. “And how are you related to my son?”

A beat of hesitation. Riley’s eyes, a quick, almost imperceptible dart to Jeff, conveyed a silent question, a shared understanding forged in quiet moments. Then, with a practiced ease that belied any inner conflict, he settled on the well-rehearsed narrative. “Uhm… I’m his friend.”

“Oh, really?” William’s smile broadened, a flash of relief, almost triumph, crossing his face. “Glad to meet you, Riley. I finally get to meet one of my son’s friends.” The words, seemingly innocuous, carried a subtle weight—the implication of a long-standing absence, of a paternal yearning unfulfilled.

A profound, suffocating silence descended, heavier than any before. William’s casual utterance, meant as a pleasantry, landed like a stone in a still pond, sending ripples of discomfort through the room. The unspoken truth of Jeff’s life, of the intimate bond he shared with Riley, hung precariously in the humid Iloilo air. Jeff’s jaw tightened, Riley’s expression became carefully neutral, and even Joyce, her movements in the kitchen momentarily frozen, exchanged a swift, knowing glance with her sons—a silent, desperate pact against a father who remained blissfully, perhaps willfully, oblivious to the vibrant tapestry of his son’s true identity. The fragile quiet was abruptly shattered only when Jeff, driven by a desperate need to escape the suffocating charade, spoke.

“Aren’t we leaving yet?” His words were clipped, an urgent, almost desperate plea to break free from the invisible chains of pretense that bound them.

“Oh, sorry. Yes, let’s go,” William conceded, his composure instantly restored, the brief flicker of vulnerability vanishing. He turned back to Riley, an unexpected, almost grand, gesture. “Riley… if you’d like, you can come with us.”

Their exit from the house became a silent, choreographed ballet. Jeff, at Riley’s subtle, almost imperceptible nudge, settled into the front passenger seat—a strategic placement, a deliberate act to foster, or perhaps force, a dialogue between father and son. Riley, ever the quiet architect of their comfort, the unassuming guardian, slipped into the back, his presence a silent anchor, a watchful observer. A moment later, William, with a calculated efficiency, joined them. The powerful hum of the engine, a low growl beneath them, became a prelude to their journey. With a soft lurch, the vehicle eased away from the curb, leaving the charged atmosphere of the house behind, only to carry its condensed, intensified weight into the confined space of the car, propelling them into the bright, bustling Iloilo morning, a canvas for the unspoken dramas yet to unfold.

“So, son… how have you been?” William’s voice, carefully modulated to a tone of paternal concern, finally broke the fragile truce of silence that had settled within the car’s cabin, punctuated only by the low hum of the engine and the distant symphony of Iloilo City’s afternoon bustle.

Jeff’s reply was clipped, almost a reflex born of habit, a defense mechanism years in the making. “I’m fine.” The words, delivered with a dismissive air, served as an invisible barrier, a polite but firm demarcation.

“Is that so?” William pressed, undeterred, a new line of inquiry forming, a seemingly innocuous foray into Jeff’s private life. “Do you have a girlfriend now? You’re quite handsome, you know… I’ll bet you’ve broken a few hearts already.” A faint, knowing chuckle escaped him, a sound that grated on Jeff’s nerves.

“Just enough,” Jeff muttered, his gaze fixed stubbornly on the passing kaleidoscope of Iloilo streets and buildings, a sarcastic glint momentarily catching the light in his eyes.

“Haha,” William boomed, a louder, more genuine laugh this time, momentarily filling the confined space of the car. “I don’t believe you, Jeff! Come on, tell me the truth, son, is there someone special?” The question, though cloaked in paternal banter, landed with the unexpected weight of a heavy stone, piercing the carefully constructed defenses Jeff had meticulously built over the years. A cold, tightening knot formed in Jeff’s stomach. How could he possibly answer? The truth, raw and unvarnished, about his identity, about his deeply cherished relationship with Riley, felt like a dangerous precipice, a secret that could shatter the fragile truce they were attempting to forge, exposing him to a judgment he wasn’t sure he could bear.

“I haven’t had a girlfriend in a long time,” Jeff began, choosing his words with agonizing precision, weaving a plausible, if incomplete, fiction. “I’m taking a break from all that… besides, dating is expensive, you know? All the expenses usually fall on me.” He added the last part for a touch of believable, practical reasoning.

William roared with laughter, a booming, unrestrained sound that momentarily vibrated through the car’s frame. “Hahaha! You really are something, Jeff! Just like your old man, a bit of a penny-pincher!” Jeff let out a silent, almost imperceptible sigh of relief. He’d dodged the bullet, for now. Confessing his true self, his actual romantic life, was a leap he wasn’t prepared to take, not when acceptance felt so tenuous, so conditional, so precariously balanced on the edge of William’s fleeting approval.

“Son… I have something important to tell you,” William said, his voice dropping, the lightheartedness abruptly dissipating, replaced by a sudden, heavy gravity. A profound silence descended between them, punctuated only by the rhythmic hum of the car on the Iloilo streets, each revolution of the tires seeming to mark the passage of significant, unspoken seconds.

“What is it?” Jeff prompted, a prickle of unease, a premonition of disruption, spreading through him.

William took a long, measured breath, his gaze momentarily leaving the road to flick to Jeff, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “I… I’d like to introduce you to them. To my new family. I’ve already discussed it with your mother, and she’s alright with it. She also said I should ask you if you’d agree to meet them.” The words, delivered with a careful deliberation, hung in the air, weighted with implication.

“For what?” Jeff’s question was immediate, sharp, a single, defiant word that cut through William’s carefully constructed narrative, laden with suspicion and a deeply ingrained resistance.

“They just… they want to meet you, son,” his father replied, a note of almost desperate persuasion entering his voice, a hint of unspoken obligation.

“Meet them?” Jeff scoffed, the sound devoid of humor, his voice hardening, a stubborn refusal settling deep in his bones like cold lead. “No way. I don’t want to meet them. I’m not interested.” His gaze, usually expressive, was now a shield of defiance.

From the back seat, Riley’s voice, calm and steady, a surprising anchor in the swirling emotional currents, cut through the tension. “Your father’s right, Jeff.” His words were direct, unvarnished. “Besides, there’s nothing you can do about it. Even if you try to avoid them, they’re already here. They won’t disappear from your lives. You just have to accept the truth.” His words, though seemingly harsh, were laced with a pragmatic wisdom, a quiet, almost resigned acceptance of a reality Jeff was still furiously fighting, a painful truth that had irrevocably altered the landscape of their lives in Iloilo.

Jeff fell silent, the weight of Riley’s words a physical burden. A tempest brewed within him: should his anger be directed at his father, so casually unveiling a ‘new family,’ or at Riley, for the accidental slip of his given name? Yet, even amidst his turmoil, a chilling logic asserted itself. Riley was undeniably right. What was done, was done. His father’s actions, a series of betrayals and absences, were now etched into their reality, unerasable. “Alright. I’ll think about it,” Jeff managed, the concession tasting like ash in his mouth.

William’s car, a sudden, jarring punctuation mark, pulled to a halt before the imposing gates of Jeff’s university in Iloilo City. The moment the vehicle stopped, both Jeff and Riley exited, a silent agreement to disentangle themselves from the lingering tension. With an abrupt finality, William’s car sped away, leaving them standing on the bustling sidewalk.

“Babe, I’ll pick you up later, okay? I’m heading home first, just to change,” Riley offered, his voice a soft counterpoint to the city’s hum, a gentle anchor in Jeff’s roiling emotions.

“Whatever,” Jeff mumbled, the word flat, devoid of its usual warmth.

Riley paused, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “Hey, wait. Are you mad, babe?” Jeff’s reply was a bitter laugh, a brittle sound that held no mirth. “Oh no. I’m just so happy, you know?” He forced a smile, a grotesque distortion of genuine joy.

“You’re mad, though,” Riley insisted, his voice unwavering. “Why are you upset again? What’s the problem this time?”

Jeff’s head snapped up, his eyes flashing. “What’s the problem? You’re asking me what my problem is?”

“Yes, I’m asking you. What is it?” Riley held his gaze, calm and steady.

“Why are you defending him to me?” Jeff demanded, his voice thick with accusation.

“Your father…?” Riley guessed, his tone even. “He’s right, isn’t he? There’s nothing you can do about it. Please, babe, just forgive him.”

“Hmm. I don’t know,” Jeff confessed, the anger momentarily giving way to a weary frustration. “No matter how hard I try to forgive him, the memory of what he did just keeps coming back, and it only makes me more furious.”

“Oh, come on, babe,” Riley sighed, stepping closer, his voice softening with empathy. “Just think that you’re luckier than I am because you still have a father. Compared to me, I don’t even know who or where my father is.”

The stark reality of Riley’s words hit Jeff with a quiet force. He looked at Riley, truly seeing him, and a painful understanding dawned. “Hmm. You have a point there, babe. You’re right.”

“See?” Riley’s face softened, a genuine smile replacing his earlier concern. “Smile now, don’t be mad anymore, okay?” Jeff huffed, a last vestige of his pique. “Hmmph. But why did you call me by my name earlier?”

Riley’s laughter, a bright, unburdened sound, filled the air. “Hahaha! Are you being silly? If I called you ‘babe’ earlier, your father would have found out about us! Oh, babe, you’re such a sulker!”

Jeff’s bitter smile finally softened into a genuine, if sheepish, grin. “Hehehe. I know, I know. Just kidding.”

“Kidding, huh?” Riley chuckled, playfully nudging him. “Alright, go on, get inside, babe. You’re late for your class.”

“Oh, shit. You’re right. Sorry, babe. Okay, I’m going in now,” Jeff exclaimed, his composure finally returning as the reality of his schedule sank in. He quickly turned and stepped through the university gate, leaving the heavy conversation behind.

“Okay, babe. Take care. I’ll pick you up later, okay?” Riley called after him, a promise hanging in the morning air.

“Okay, babe,“ Jeff echoed, already hurrying away, the familiar rhythm of academic life a welcome distraction from the complexities of his personal world.

Upon entering the house, Jeff was met not by the familiar quiet, but by the unexpected sight of strangers gathered around their dining table, engaged in the intimate ritual of supper. His mother, Joyce, moved with a hurried grace, tending to the visitors, her back to him. The air was thick with the scent of dinner, but also with an unspoken tension, a palpable disruption of their domestic peace.

“Jeff… you’re here,” she murmured, a faint surprise in her voice as she turned, her hands still gesturing towards the dining area. Her eyes, however, held a flicker of apprehension.

He approached her, the automatic gesture of taking her hand and pressing it to his forehead—the traditional mano—a small act of normalcy amidst the growing strangeness. “Who are they, Mom?” he whispered, his gaze flicking to the unfamiliar faces, a growing unease settling in his stomach.

Joyce offered a soft, almost apologetic smile, a tight line of worry around her lips. “Oh, right, son. This is Natalie, and your half-sister, Jean.” Her voice was light, perhaps too light, as she introduced the two women who now occupied their space, making claims to a relationship Jeff had never known.

“My what…?” Jeff’s voice was barely a breath, a single word laden with disbelief, his mind struggling to reconcile the sudden presence of these ‘others’ as part of his family.

“Yes, son. I know your father spoke to you, and you hadn’t agreed yet,” Joyce explained, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, a desperate attempt to bridge the chasm of his unspoken anger. “But I told your father to just come over today so you could meet them.” Jeff stood frozen, a statue of stunned silence, for what felt like an agonizing minute. His heart pounded with a mixture of betrayal and disbelief. “Son? Are you mad?” she asked, her concern palpable, her hand reaching out tentatively.

“No, Mom. I’m not mad,” he replied, the words stiff, formal, a lie that tasted bitter on his tongue. His eyes, however, swept over the dining guests, a silent judgment in their depths that contradicted his forced calm. “Good evening to you all,” he offered, a strained politeness in his tone that barely masked his resentment.

“Good evening too, Jeff,” Natalie responded, her voice smooth, almost practiced, like someone accustomed to making introductions. She rose, moving with an air of assured familiarity, and pressed a cool, possessive kiss to his cheek. “I believe you’re my husband’s youngest child with Joyce. Am I right?” There was a subtle claim in her phrasing, a definite assertion of ownership that grated on Jeff’s nerves.

“Yes, Ma’am. That’s me, Tita,” Jeff replied, the honorific slipping out instinctively, a habit he instantly regretted.

“No. Don’t call me, Tita,” Natalie corrected him, her smile unwavering, but her voice firm, a glint of steel in her eyes. “It’s ‘Mommy’.” The word struck Jeff like a physical blow, foreign and abhorrent.

Jeff’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “Uhm. Okay then, Mommy…” The word felt foreign, a betrayal on his tongue, a forced acquiescence to a reality he vehemently rejected.

“Very good.” Natalie’s smile intensified, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “Oh, by the way, this is Jean. Your half-sister,” she announced, gesturing to the young woman still slumped at the table, utterly engrossed in her phone, a picture of indifference.

“Hello, Jean,” Jeff attempted, a strained cordiality in his voice, extending a hand that was pointedly ignored. But Jean didn’t even lift her head, her fingers still dancing across her screen, a world away in her digital realm.

“Jean…” Natalie’s voice sharpened, a command hidden beneath the veneer of maternal affection. Jean finally looked up, her gaze reluctantly shifting to her mother, annoyance etched on her face. “Your brother greeted you. He said hello.”

“Sorry, Mom. I’m busy playing Pokémon Go right now,” Jean mumbled, her eyes already drifting back to the glowing screen, a clear disdain in her voice. “Oh my. There are so many here in their house, Mommy. Lots of animals.” Her tone was dismissive, condescending, reducing their home to a mere hunting ground for digital creatures.

“Can you, Jean. Not now.” Natalie’s voice was firm, a vein throbbing faintly at her temple, her patience clearly wearing thin.

Jean bristled, rolling her eyes with dramatic flourish. She slapped her phone shut and shoved it into her small bag, a storm gathering in her expression. “Why? How annoying.”

“Jean, show some respect,” Natalie hissed, her voice low and dangerous, a clear warning.

“Respect? Mom, you’re asking too much of me,” Jean scoffed, a world-weary sigh escaping her. “I already agreed to come here because you forced me, and now you’re asking for my respect for them? Wow. Just wow.” The contempt in her voice was palpable, a searing indictment aimed squarely at Jeff and his mother, a clear declaration of her resentment at being there.

“Stop it, Jean,” Natalie warned, her voice barely a whisper, yet laced with steel. “Don’t be rude.”

“And why not?” Jean challenged, her chin jutting out defiantly, inviting further confrontation.

“Because I didn’t raise you that way, Jean. You know how to show respect,” Natalie retorted, her own pride stung. Then, turning to Joyce, her expression shifted to one of strained apology, a desperate attempt to salvage the situation. “Oh, Joyce, please bear with my daughter, okay? Jeff? Sorry too, okay? She’s just on her period right now,” she explained, her voice lowering conspiratorially, a flimsy, desperate excuse to normalize Jean’s appalling behavior. “You know, hot-headed when she’s getting it.”

Joyce offered a tight, sympathetic smile, a thin mask over her own discomfort. “It’s alright, Natalie. I understand. I’m a woman too.” The words were an olive branch, a shield against further conflict, a silent plea for peace.

“So, what do you say? We’re leaving now, okay?” Natalie announced, a quick exit strategy forming, a desperate retreat from the escalating awkwardness. “Jean still has something to do at home.”

“Wait, won’t William pick you up?” Joyce asked, a flicker of surprise and concern on her face, noting the glaring absence of his presence.

Natalie’s expression hardened, a cynical twist to her lips. “Probably not. You know him. Always busy with his businesses.” The words were laced with a bitterness that belied the earlier façade of marital bliss, revealing a deeper, more complicated reality.

“Ah. Okay. Take care, Natalie.” Joyce’s voice was gentle, a subtle acknowledgment of the unspoken complexities, a shared understanding of a man who prioritized his work above all else.

Joyce escorted her unwelcome guests outside, her presence a silent vigil until a taxi, a yellow beacon of departure, pulled away from the curb. When she re-entered the house, Jeff met her, his face a storm of questions, his patience utterly spent.

“Mom… what was that?” Jeff demanded, his voice thick with a desperate need for answers, for an explanation for the chaotic intrusion that had just shattered their evening. “What was all that?”

“What, son?” Joyce countered, her eyes wide, feigning an innocence that did not fool him.

“Mom, come on. Don’t be like that. Why are you still defending her ill-mannered daughter?” Jeff’s frustration mounted, the injustice of Jean’s behavior and his mother’s excuses burning within him.

“It’s nothing, son. That’s just how we women are when we’re on our period, we get irritable,” Joyce insisted, clinging to the flimsy, age-old excuse, a desperate attempt to deflect his anger.

“Irritable? I have female friends too, Mom, you know. You might be forgetting, they don’t react like that,” Jeff argued, his voice incredulous, highlighting the glaring inconsistency.

“Women experience different kinds of discomfort when they’re on their period, son. Don’t mind it,” Joyce said, her voice softening, a desperate attempt to soothe him, to minimize the offense. “It’s a small thing.”

“Is that so? Why do you always defend them, Mom?” Jeff pressed, his voice laced with suspicion, sensing a deeper reason behind her unwavering loyalty.

“I’m not defending them, Jeff. I’m just telling the truth,” Joyce maintained, her gaze unwavering, a subtle hardening of her resolve.

Jeff sighed deeply, the weight of the conversation settling heavily upon him, and sank onto the sofa, the fight draining from him. “Even so. Hmm. You know, Mom, I just didn’t like how Jean was acting earlier. It felt like she was angry at us.” He voiced the intuition that gnawed at him, the feeling of hostility radiating from the girl.

“You, child, you really overthink things,” his mother replied, a dismissive wave of her hand, a familiar way to brush off his concerns.

“Overthinker or not, Mom. Still, I have a different feeling about that girl. I just don’t feel good about her. I don’t feel it.” He reiterated his gut feeling, a stubborn refusal to dismiss his own instincts.

“Come and eat now, Jeff. You’re just hungry,” Joyce urged, attempting to divert him with food, a classic maternal tactic.

“I already ate outside, Mom. With Riley,” he said, rising from the sofa, the thought of food now unappealing. “I’m just going to sleep now.” He went to his mother, pressing a tender kiss to her cheek, a small gesture of affection despite his turmoil. “Goodnight, Mom. Oh, by the way, where are my sister and my older brothers?”

“They’re probably on their way home too, son. Don’t worry, I’ll look after them,” Joyce assured him, a weary but loving smile on her face, a silent promise to protect her children.

“Okay, Mom. Goodnight again, Mother.” He turned, leaving the echoes of the uncomfortable dinner behind, seeking solace in the oblivion of sleep, a temporary escape from the complexities that had invaded his home and his life.

To be continued….

Chapter 4 (A Quiet Admiration)

In the lively, clattering world of the school’s dining hall, a truth had just been laid bare, leaving Jeff and Jacqui in a moment of stunned silence, their half-eaten lunches momentarily forgotten.

“Oh. My. God,” Jacqui breathed, her eyes wide with revelation. “So, wait, she’s your half-sister? From your dad’s side?”

Jeff let out a weary sigh, the confession a heavy weight settling on his shoulders. “Unfortunately. Yes,” she affirmed, a single, decisive nod accompanying the words. “A truly spoiled, ill-tempered brat of a sister, if you ask me.”

Ever the optimist, Jacqui tried to inject a note of calm into the escalating drama. “Now, hold on, bestie. Maybe your mom’s just right about this. Maybe she’s just having a bad day, or, you know, one of those episodes.”

But Jeff shook her head, a stubborn line set on her lips. “No way. I’m not buying it for a second. I’m absolutely convinced that Jean has a grudge against us, a real vendetta.”

Jacqui, a playful skepticism dancing in her eyes, challenged her. “How on earth could you possibly know that? Did you suddenly develop the ability to read minds or something?”

“No,” Jeff admitted, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. “Just a feeling. A really strong one.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, girl,” Jacqui groaned, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. “You and your ‘feelings’ again!”

“My feelings are rarely wrong,” Jeff retorted, a hint of defiance in his tone. “Remember when your ex started acting all cold towards you? I had a hunch, didn’t I? So I kept an eye on him, and what do you know? He was seeing someone else.”

Jacqui snorted, a mischievous glint in her eye. “That wasn’t a hunch, Jeff. You just wanted to trash-talk him to me! I know you had a major crush on my ex back then!” Her voice dropped to a theatrical whisper, “You totally made up a story just to break us up!”

Jeff’s face immediately fell, a flash of genuine hurt in his eyes. “Hey, that’s harsh! I’m not that kind of person, you know!”

A peal of laughter erupted from Jacqui, her good humor contagious. “Hahaha! Relax, I’m just kidding! So sensitive!” She reached across the table, her hand resting warmly on Jeff’s arm. “I won’t tease you anymore, especially now that I know you’re practically swimming in cash. You can treat us!” A wide, knowing grin spread across Jacqui’s face.

“Ah, yes. Free food. You’re good, bestie,” Jeff conceded, a small smile finally breaking through his annoyance. “Well, isn’t it true?” Jacqui pressed, her excitement barely contained. “You’re the son of a hugely successful businessman right here in Iloilo City! That’s why you have the same last name! We all thought it was just a coincidence, but it’s really him, your father! Isn’t that amazing? You can ask your dad for anything and he’ll give it to you. You are so incredibly lucky, girl.”

Jeff considered this, her expression thoughtful. “Hmm. Maybe you’re right. But I don’t need his wealth to get what I want. My mom taught us to work hard for everything we achieve, to earn our own way.” “True, true, girl,” Jacqui agreed, her tone still brimming with enthusiasm. “But let’s be real. Things will be a whole lot easier for you now that you have someone with that kind of influence helping you out. A powerful connection, right at your fingertips.”

“I don’t know,” Jeff mumbled, his gaze distant, lost in thought.

“Why not?” Jacqui prodded, ever the curious one. “Are you mad at your dad?”

“Hmm. A little,” Jeff admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m trying to forgive him, I really am, but every time I see his face, I just get so angry, so incredibly annoyed.”

“It’s okay,” Jacqui said softly, her tone unusually gentle, a moment of genuine empathy shining through. “Someday, you’ll forgive your dad. I know you will.”

“I hope so, bestie,” Jeff sighed, a wistful note in her voice.

“You can do it, you go girl!” Jacqui suddenly roared, her voice echoing through the dining hall, causing nearby students to turn and stare, some with amusement, others with annoyance.

Jeff winced, a blush creeping up her neck. “How many times are you going to say ‘girl’? It sounds so weird and… loud.”

“Hahaha… Why? Don’t you like it?” Jacqui teased, her eyes sparkling with unrepentant mischief.

“I don’t even know what to say to you anymore. Just finish your food. You eat like a snail! We’re literally waiting for you.”

“Okay, boss… coming right up,” Jacqui declared, taking a big bite. “By the way, friend, how are things with you and Riley?”

“Hmm… we’re good… we’ll be four months on February 3rd,” Jeff replied, a soft smile gracing his  lips, a rare moment of lightness.

“Wow, already?” Jacqui exclaimed, genuinely surprised. “Haaayy… at least you have a boyfriend while I’m… absolutely nothing. Come on, friend, hook me up!”

“Oh, please. You should try enjoying being single for a change,” Jeff advised, rolling his eyes playfully. “It’s like you can’t live without a guy.”

“Hey, rude much?” Jacqui retorted, a defensive edge to her voice. “It’s not like that. You know I grew up without a dad, right? That’s why I’m looking for a guy who’ll truly love me, someone to fill that void. But I’m still a virgin, by the way. You can even check!”

“Check it? Eww! No thanks, bestie. Not my type anymore,” Jeff said, grimacing in mock disgust. Both burst into laughter, their playful banter a familiar comfort amidst the unfolding complexities of Jeff’s life. But then, Jeff’s gaze fell on their third companion, noticing something amiss. “Hey, Alvin, have you been there long? How are you? Hehe,” Jeff continued, his voice softening with genuine concern. “Are you okay?… You’re so quiet today…”

“I’m fine. Just not feeling well,” Alvin replied, his voice a weak murmur, his gaze fixed on his plate.

“But you seemed fine when we came in earlier… maybe it’s the food?” Jeff mused, a frown creasing his brow.

“No, Jeff… it’s been like this since I woke up at home,” he confessed, barely looking up. “But I can still manage, I think.”

“Are you sure?” Jeff asked, her doubt evident in her tone. Alvin merely offered a weak nod, still avoiding his gaze. “Maybe he’s just jealous because we’re talking about your lover,” Jacqui interjected, a knowing smirk playing on her lips, her eyes darting towards Alvin. Alvin shot her a quick, intense look, his eyes silently pleading with her to stop.

“Huh? Why would he be jealous?” Jeff asked, genuinely puzzled, completely missing the silent exchange.

“Uh… ah… nothing… I was just chiming in on an article I’m reading on Facebook,” Jacqui stammered, quickly fabricating an excuse, her eyes wide with feigned innocence.

“Ohh… I thought you were talking about our conversation,” Jeff said, her gaze shifting back to Alvin, a hint of concern still lingering. “Vin, make sure you eat well, okay?” Alvin offered another weak nod. “By the way, guys, what time is it?”

“It’s 1:43 PM… why?” Jacqui answered, glancing at his phone.

“Oh, shit! I’m late!” Jeff scrambled to his feet, a sudden urgency in her movements, the earlier revelations momentarily pushed aside by the pressing reality of his schedule.

“Don’t be so dramatic. Your class doesn’t start until 2 PM,” her friend reminded her, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Even so… I’m still late and my room is really far. I gotta go, guys… I’ll see you later after class by the bench.” With a quick wave, Jeff practically sprinted out of the dining hall, leaving his two friends behind, their conversation now adrift.

The three of them had been an inseparable trio since their high school days, their bond forged in shared experiences and adolescent dreams. Now, as they navigated the complexities of university life, they still found themselves under the same roof, albeit pursuing vastly different academic paths. Jacqui was diligently studying Nursing, her mind set on a career of care and healing. Alvin was immersed in Criminology, his quiet demeanor belying a sharp, analytical mind. And Jeff, with her newfound family revelations and the weight of a complicated past, was a Marketing student, her future now seemingly brighter, yet undeniably more intricate, a tapestry woven with threads of both privilege and personal struggle.

Their friendship wasn’t just a casual connection; it was a tapestry woven from shared laughter, whispered confessions, and an unspoken understanding that transcended the superficial. It was, as the popular parlance of the day declared, #FriendshipGoals, a testament to a bond that seemed unbreakable. They knew each other’s deepest secrets, the hidden narratives of their lives that remained carefully guarded from the rest of the world. Yet, as with all human connections, there were still corners untouched, truths unspoken, and certain things, well, not everything was laid bare.

A comfortable silence had settled between them, a familiar hush born from years of shared space and unspoken companionship. It was Alvin who finally broke the quiet, his voice a low murmur, tinged with a faint tremor. “You really cut it close back there, Jack,” he murmured, a lingering shadow of anxiety in his eyes, a subtle reminder of a recent, almost-revealed truth.

Jacqui, ever the picture of unruffled confidence, offered a quick, reassuring wink. “It’s fine, I pulled it off, didn’t I? Hehe.” Her confidence was infectious, yet as her gaze sharpened, she noticed the persistent unease etched on Alvin’s face. His usual quiet demeanor had deepened into a palpable worry, a silent weight he carried. “Alvin,” she pressed, her tone more serious now, “if I were you, I’d just tell Jeff the truth. Seriously, she won’t get mad. And honestly, this new, super-quiet version of you? It’s completely throwing me off. You’re usually so much more… present.”

Alvin finally lowered his head, his gaze fixed on some distant point, his voice barely a whisper, thick with unspoken longing and resignation. “I’m just too shy to tell her how I feel, Jack. He might feel awkward around me, you know? It could change everything between us.” He paused, a deep sigh escaping him. “And besides,” he continued, the words weighted with despair, “he already has a boyfriend. I don’t stand a chance with her anymore.” The bitter words hung heavy in the air, a declaration of surrender.

Jacqui scoffed, a sudden burst of indignant energy disrupting the gloom. “What are you talking about, Alvin?! It’s not the end of the world, you dramatic fool!” Her voice rose, a sharp counterpoint to his self-pity. “They’re not married yet, are they? You still have a chance with Jeff! Don’t you dare give up so easily. And if you’re worried she’ll feel awkward when she finds out how you feel… so what? Honestly, what’s the worst that could happen? At least you’ll have told her the truth, laid your heart bare. You won’t have any regrets about holding back. Okay?” Her final word was a firm, non-negotiable punctuation mark. As Jacqui’s impassioned words resonated through the air, a slow, hesitant smile crept onto Alvin’s face. Her unwavering belief, her directness, her refusal to let him wallow in self-pity, cut through his despair like a ray of sunlight piercing through thick clouds. In that transformative moment, a fragile, hopeful seed of possibility was replanted in his heart. The unspoken desire for Jeff, which he had tried to bury beneath layers of shyness and perceived hopelessness, was rekindled, a tiny flame flickering to life once more, igniting a renewed sense of purpose and quiet determination.“

---

The final bell of the day echoed through the campus, a familiar signal of freedom, yet as Jeff emerged from his last class, an unusual quiet clung to the familiar bench. Riley wasn’t there, and a prickle of unease threaded through Jeff. It was an unspoken ritual, a silent promise, that his boyfriend would be there, a comforting presence at the end of his day. Riley’s absence was a jarring note in his routine, a discord in the usual symphony of their shared afternoons.

A quick decision made, Jeff pulled his phone from his bag, his fingers swiftly dialing Riley’s number. The line rang, once, twice, then a click as Riley answered, his voice slightly distant.

“Hello, babe?”

“Where are you?” Jeff asked, a hint of bewilderment in his tone, the casualness of Riley’s greeting only deepening his confusion.

“At the mall. Why?” Riley’s response was light, almost nonchalant, a stark contrast to the growing irritation Jeff felt.

“I’ve been waiting for you here forever,” Jeff explained, a touch of exasperation creeping into his voice. “My last class just finished.”

A beat of silence stretched, then Riley’s voice, tinged with a feigned innocence, finally broke it. “Huh? Were we supposed to meet? You didn’t tell me, babe.” The words felt like a soft blow, a jarring disconnect from what Jeff had come to expect, from the routine they had built.

“Hmm,” Jeff hummed, a cold realization beginning to dawn. “Don’t you always do this? Why wouldn’t you know?” His voice was flat, a controlled query designed to mask the growing hurt.

“Sorry, babe,” Riley quickly interjected, a hurried note in his voice. “Fred just texted me to meet him here.”

“Really?” Jeff’s voice flattened further, a carefully constructed neutrality in his tone. “So, you’re together right now?” The question hung in the air, weighted with suspicion.

“Yeah, babe. He’s having some problems, you see,” Riley explained, his voice taking on a sympathetic tone. “He really wanted to talk, asked me to meet up so he could just vent everything out. You know, a crisis, and all.” Riley’s explanation felt flimsy, a thin veil over something unspoken, something that Jeff’s gut was already sensing.

“Oh, okay,” Jeff replied, the two words barely audible, infused with a chilling indifference. The hurt was a dull ache, blossoming into something sharper, something akin to betrayal.

“Babe. Are you mad?” Riley’s question, tinged with a hint of concern, was almost an afterthought, as if he was just now registering the shift in Jeff’s demeanor.

“No. I’m not mad,” Jeff asserted, but the denial felt hollow, even to his own ears. He could hear the tremor in his own voice, the subtle crack in his composure.

“Really? Your voice sounds different,” Riley pressed, sensing the shift, the unconvincing nature of Jeff’s denial.

“Go on,” Jeff sighed, the pretense crumbling, the last vestiges of his patience dissolving. “I might be interrupting your date.” The word “date” hung in the air, a barbed arrow he couldn’t resist firing.

“Date? This isn’t a date, you know,” Riley protested, a faint irritation, almost defensiveness, entering his voice. “There you go again. Getting all sulky, just like always. You’re overthinking this.”

“Okay, bye,” Jeff stated, a sudden finality in his voice, his emotional exhaustion palpable. “I’m going home.” He was done with this conversation, done with the excuses.

“Babe, please,” Riley pleaded, a sudden urgency in his tone, a hint of desperation seeping through. “I’ll pick you up there right now. Just wait for me.”

True to his word, within what felt like an unexpectedly short amount of time, Riley’s car, a familiar sight on the university grounds in Iloilo City, pulled up to the curb outside Jeff’s school. Jeff opened the passenger door and slid inside, his gaze immediately falling upon something, or rather, someone, that made his jaw drop. The shock that washed over him was palpable, twisting the knot of unease he already felt into something entirely new and unsettling, a bitter confirmation of his unspoken fears.

The morning sun cast long shadows as Fred’s cheerful “Hello” cut through the air. Riley, ever the pragmatist, quickly clarified to Jeff, “Oh, babe, this is Fred’s car. He just dropped me off.”

A subtle shift in Jeff’s demeanor was palpable. “You never mentioned Fred was picking you up,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “So, he’s your personal driver now?”

Riley chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. “Babe, he just volunteered to give me a ride. It’s better than paying for fare, right?”

Fred, oblivious or perhaps intentionally interjecting, chimed in, “Where are you two lovebirds off to, bes?”

“Uh, just back to the mall, bes,” Riley replied, a casualness in her tone that made Jeff’s head snap up. “Bes…?” he echoed, his eyes wide with surprise. Riley merely offered a coy smile, leaving him to ponder the new dynamic.

Upon their arrival at the bustling mall, Fred bid them farewell, heading back to his own commitments. Left alone, an uncomfortable silence settled between Riley and Jeff.

“Babe, you’re awfully quiet. Are you mad?” Riley prodded, her voice laced with concern.

“No, I’m not mad,” Jeff stated, a little too quickly.

Riley’s voice softened, a touch of playful manipulation in her tone. “Really? Then why does it sound like you’re saying it through your nose?”

“Where else would it come out?” Jeff retorted, a hint of his usual wit returning. “My butt? People might mistake it for a fart.”

Riley feigned annoyance. “Hmmp. My babe’s being a philosopher now. Come here,” she commanded, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“Ow, slowly,” Jeff winced. After a moment, a thought struck him. “Oh, by the way, what’s your ‘bes’s’ problem?”

Riley’s face softened. “Lovelife, of course,” she began, launching into the tale. “His lover left him, traded him in for someone new.”

“Have they been together long?” Jeff inquired.

“About three months,” Riley continued, “but their relationship was always on and off.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because Fred,” Riley explained, “he always broke up with his partner. A tiny argument, and it was over. Eventually, the other person just got fed up and ended things for good.”

“Immature, then?” Jeff surmised. “Hmmm. Something like that, babe,” Riley agreed.

“So, what advice did you give him?”

“I told him,” Riley said, a surprising depth in her voice, “that’s just life. You think you’ve found ‘the one,’ but sometimes you haven’t. So, just move on.”

“Wow, that’s some deep wisdom there,” Jeff commented, impressed.

“Hehe. Not really, babe. Just friendly advice,” Riley demurred.

“Just friends?” Jeff pressed, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes.

“Of course. Wait, are you getting suspicious again?” Riley asked, a knowing look on her face.

“Huh? I didn’t say anything,” Jeff quickly denied.

“Babe… I know you’re getting jealous again.” Riley took his hand, her touch reassuring. “You have nothing to be jealous of, okay? You’re the one I love.”

“What if he loves you?” Jeff’s question hung in the air, unexpected and vulnerable.

“What kind of question is that?” Riley countered, a hint of exasperation.

“Just answer it, please,” he pleaded.

“Then I’d tell him I have a partner. And he knows I’m not available,” Riley stated firmly. “Besides, I don’t love him, you know. I love you.”

“Are you really sure about that?” Jeff’s gaze was intense.

“Yes, I am. Babe, come on, you’re doubting me again,” Riley said, a touch of weariness in her voice.

“I’m not doubting, I’m just making sure,” Jeff clarified.

“Hmmmm. You just want some affection, don’t you?” Riley teased, wrapping her arms around him. A smile finally broke across Jeff’s face. “See? You’re smiling now. I’m sorry, babe, okay?”

“Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything wrong,” Jeff replied, confused. “Because it’s you…” Riley said mysteriously, her eyes twinkling as she looked at him. “Anyway… hehe. Let’s just eat. You might get mad again.”

Later, after their meal, they found themselves in the quiet solitude of the parking lot, simply enjoying the cool night air. As the evening drew to a close, Jeff decided it was time to head home. Riley, ever the devoted partner, promptly saw him off before returning to her work as a call center agent, the day’s events a lingering warmth in her thoughts.

---

The familiar scent of home, a comforting blend of old wood and the faint aroma of his mother’s cooking, was abruptly shattered the moment Jeff stepped inside. His eyes immediately fell upon the towering stacks of luggage, silent, dark monoliths casting long, unsettling shadows in the entryway. Each bag, tightly packed and resolute, felt like a physical representation of an imminent, unwelcome departure. In the living room, his father, William, sat on the sofa, a picture of strained patience. His posture, stiff and expectant, hinted at a clandestine meeting or a declaration awaiting its audience.

“What in the world is happening here, Kuya?” Jeff demanded, his voice a sharp, unwelcome intrusion into the hushed atmosphere. His older brother, Jeremy, emerged from the shadowed doorway of his own room, his expression a weary echo of the news he was about to deliver. Jeremy’s words, when they came, were a slow, deliberate hammer blow.

“Mom and you,” he began, his gaze avoiding Jeff’s, “are apparently moving to their house for a bit.”

“Whose house?” Jeff’s breath hitched, a chilling premonition, cold and sharp, already forming in his gut. The “their” hung heavy in the air, laden with unspoken implications.

“Dad’s,” Jeremy stated flatly, his voice devoid of emotion, “and his new wife’s house.” The finality of the statement resonated in the quiet. His new wife. The words, though familiar, still twisted a knot in Jeff’s stomach.

“Huh? Why?” Jeff’s questions were barely a whisper, the news too surreal, too sudden, to fully process. His mind reeled, grasping for logic in the face of this unexpected upheaval.

“I don’t know either… I just got here,” Jeremy admitted, shrugging with a weary resignation that spoke volumes. “Maybe ask Mom.” The casualness of his brother’s tone, the effortless way he delivered such life-altering news, only amplified Jeff’s burgeoning sense of alarm. He spun on his heel, his gaze already raking the living room, searching for the one person who could offer a semblance of sense to this chaos.

“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice now a low growl.

“In her room, still packing,” Jeremy replied, pointing towards the hallway with a dismissive gesture.

Jeff strode down the hall, each step a testament to his mounting agitation. His heart pounded a frantic rhythm against his ribs, a drumbeat of dread. He pushed open the door to his mother’s room, finding Joyce inside, methodically folding clothes, her movements precise, almost detached, as she placed them into bags. The air in the room was thick with the scent of lavender and old fabrics, a poignant reminder of a life now being systematically dismantled.

“Mom, what is all this?” Jeff’s voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet like a knife.

Joyce paused, her hands still. Her gaze, when it met his, was weary but resolute. “We’re moving to their house for now, son,” she said, her voice soft but imbued with an unyielding finality.

“But why?! Whose plan is this? William’s again?” The words, fueled by a surge of frustration and a familiar bitterness, were out before Jeff could temper them. The name “William,” his father, tasted like ash on his tongue.

“Jeffrey…!” Joyce’s voice rose, a rare note of sternness that instantly silenced him. Her eyes, usually so gentle, now held a glint of steel. “You need to respect him because he’s your father.” The admonition hung in the air, a stark reminder of the uncomfortable familial ties that bound them.

“Why are we moving there, anyway?” Jeff insisted, refusing to back down, the unfairness of it all a burning sensation in his chest.

“Just temporarily, son,” she explained, her voice softening once more, a subtle plea in her tone. “Your dad and Natalie are leaving, and there’ll be no one to look after your sister. Your dad asked us to look after Jean.” The revelation of Jean, his half-sister, being the reason for this upheaval, only added another layer of resentment.

“And you agreed right away?” Jeff’s question was laced with incredulity, a direct challenge to her seemingly easy compliance, to what felt like a betrayal.

“It’s so you two can bond and your anger towards Jean will disappear,” Joyce pleaded, her eyes searching his, a desperate hope flickering within them. “Please agree, son…”

Jeff’s gaze dropped to the remaining items on the bed, a collection of his own clothes and personal effects. They were already being folded, systematically packed into the last bag. His mother, in her quiet efficiency, had already stripped him of any agency. “I guess I have no choice, Mom,” he conceded, the words heavy with resignation. “Because my things are already packed.”

Joyce stood, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. She reached out, her hand finding his, her grip warm and surprisingly strong. “Thank you, son. For agreeing. I’m doing this so you can get to know your sister, Jean, better. This is one of the steps to make things right between you and your father, and our family.” Her words were a carefully constructed bridge, an attempt to mend fractured relationships.

“Oh, Mom. Why bother? We don’t need them anymore,” Jeff scoffed, the bitterness a familiar, caustic taste on his tongue. The idea of forming a “family” with William and Natalie felt like a cruel joke . “You need him, Jeff. You need him because he’s your father.” Joyce tightened her hold, her voice firm with an unwavering conviction. “It’s hard to grow up without a father figure. No one to guide you.” Her eyes implored him to understand, to see beyond his anger.

“You’re here, Mom, aren’t you? You’ve been both a father and a mother to us siblings. We don’t need him anymore,” Jeff countered, his voice raw with unspoken pain, the years of his mother’s selfless dedication a testament to his point.

Joyce let out a slow, deep breath, her gaze distant, as if seeing a future Jeff couldn’t yet comprehend. “You don’t understand it now, son. But someday, you will. Just trust your mother.” Her words hung in the air, a quiet promise, a heavy burden of future understanding.

To be continued…

Chapter 5 (Jean)

A resigned breath, barely audible, was all the protest Jeff allowed himself. His mother’s entreaty had morphed into an unyielding decree, a silent negotiation that had left him with no escape. They were to temporarily reside under the roof of his father’s new family, a prospect that settled in Jeff’s gut like a cold, unyielding stone. It was a concession he made not out of desire, but out of a vague, maternal insistence he couldn’t quite decipher, a “necessity” that felt more like a sacrifice.

The sleek contours of William’s Sportivo, a silent testament to its owner’s newfound prosperity, seemed to swallow them whole. The engine’s initial rumble was a low, almost predatory purr beneath them as William eased the car from the curb. But before the wheels truly bit into the asphalt, his father’s gaze, unexpectedly warm and searching, found Jeff’s reflection in the rearview mirror.

“Son, thank you,” William’s voice was a soft cadence, a carefully measured gratitude that felt strangely ill-fitting, almost cloying. “Thank you for agreeing to stay with us, even just for a few days.”

Jeff managed a half-smile, a fleeting, almost convulsive twitch of his lips that tasted of something metallic and unwelcome. It was a smile that offered no insight, a mere mask for the bitter resentment simmering beneath. Perhaps sensing the invisible barrier Jeff had instinctively erected, William pressed on, his tone lightening, almost chirpy. “I’m sure you’ll absolutely love our house, and I know you and Jean will get along brilliantly. You’ve met her already, haven’t you? When they came to visit our old place?”

“Yup,” Jeff’s reply was a clipped, monosyllabic dismissal, the sound itself brittle, devoid of emotion. The flimsy thread of conversation snapped. With a swift, almost defensive gesture, he retrieved his phone from the depths of his backpack – the familiar weight a small, grounding comfort in this unsettling transition. Riley needed to know. He had to tell Riley.

The moment they stepped over the threshold, a silent, involuntary gasp was torn from Jeff’s throat. His jaw simply fell slack, his eyes widening to encompass the overwhelming spectacle before him. Natalie’s house wasn’t merely a dwelling; it was an architectural declaration, a three-story monument to affluence that seemed to shimmer, almost breathe, with an ethereal glow under the Iloilo sun. Every polished surface, every strategically placed sculpture, every piece of furniture—gleaming, rich, and utterly bespoke—screamed a single, resonant word: expensive. Not just costly, but prohibitively so, a testament to a world Jeff had only ever glimpsed from the periphery.

His gaze swept, mesmerized, from one opulent detail to the next. The living room alone was a cavernous expanse, swallowing Joyce’s humble, familiar sala whole, then swallowing it again, three or four times over. Beyond its grand glass doors, the backyard unveiled a sprawling oasis: a magnificent swimming pool shimmered with an inviting, crystalline blue, its edges lined with exotic foliage. Then, hidden away, was the entertainment room, a hushed sanctuary bathed in soft, recessed lighting, promising endless hours lost in the cinematic embrace of one’s favorite films, a realm of pure, unadulterated escapism.

This wasn’t merely a house; it was a dream rendered tangible, a vision pulled directly from the glossy pages of a magazine or the high-definition realism of a prestige television series. Jeff stood there, rooted to the spot, utterly, bewilderingly captivated by this glittering reality that had suddenly, inexplicably, become his temporary own. It was grand, it was overwhelming, and it was undeniably, impossibly real.

The air within the grand foyer was thick with the scent of polished mahogany and an unfamiliar, expensive fragrance, a perfume of wealth that seemed to press in on Jeff. Natalie, her smile a dazzling, almost performative curve, swept towards them, her movements fluid and confident. “Good evening, Joyce. Welcome to our home.” Her gaze, a bright, calculating warmth, then shifted to him. “Good evening, too, Jeff.”

Jeff managed a clipped, almost swallowed, “Good evening,” the words feeling foreign and clumsy on his tongue. His eyes, still adjusting to the sheer scale of the place, darted around the cavernous space, taking in every opulent detail, every gleaming surface. This wasn’t merely a house; it was a curated display of prosperity, a stark, unsettling contrast to the humble familiarity of their old life.

“Joyce,” Natalie continued, her voice softening, a note of carefully modulated apology woven into her tone. Her hands, adorned with delicate jewelry, clasped together in a gesture of refined sincerity. “I’m so sorry your staying here wasn’t part of the original plan, you know.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial murmur. “We just… we truly didn’t have anyone else to turn to for help but you.”

A faint, almost imperceptible tremor passed through Joyce’s shoulders, quickly masked by a placid, almost apologetic smile. “We understand, Natalie. Truly, don’t worry about a thing. It’s perfectly fine for Jeff and me to stay here for now.” She punctuated her statement with a sharp, almost imperceptible elbow to Jeff’s ribs, a silent, urgent command for his compliance. “Right, son?”

Jeff blinked, his internal observations shattered by the sudden pressure. “Po?” he managed, the sound a half-question, half-grunt, caught in his throat.

Joyce’s smile tightened, her grip on his arm increasing, a subtle but firm warning. “I said… it’s quite alright for us to stay here temporarily. For a few days.”

He felt Natalie’s expectant gaze on him, her perfectly poised smile awaiting his affirmation. Swallowing hard, the bile of resentment rising, Jeff forced the words out, his voice thin. “Oh. Yes, Tita. It’s… it’s fine with us.”

Natalie’s smile didn’t falter, but a subtle shift occurred in her eyes, a flicker of something unyielding, a practiced insistence. “Tita…?” she prompted, her tone gentle but imbued with a latent firmness. “Didn’t I tell you to call me ‘Mommy’?”

A hot flush crept up Jeff’s neck, a wave of discomfort washing over him. The casual intimacy she demanded felt like an intrusive violation, a forced familiarity that tasted like ash in his mouth. “Sorry po,” he mumbled, his gaze dropping to the pristine marble tiles of the foyer, the cool surface offering no solace. “I’m just not used to it.”

A brief, almost imperceptible pause hung in the air, laden with unspoken power. Then, Natalie’s laugh rippled, light and unburdened, dispersing the tension like smoke. “Silly boy. It’s okay, if that’s what makes you comfortable. Whatever you prefer, dear. It’s up to you.” The concession, however, felt less like genuine acceptance and more like a strategic retreat, a minor skirmish lost to win a larger war.

“Thank you, Tita,” Jeff repeated, clinging to the familiar title like a lifeline, a tiny assertion of his fading identity.

“Oh, by the way, have you two eaten yet?” Natalie’s attention smoothly pivoted back to Joyce, her hostess instincts kicking in with practiced grace.

“Not yet, Natalie. But we’re still full, actually.” Joyce’s voice was too quick, too emphatic, perhaps an attempt to avoid further imposition or a genuine loss of appetite amidst the stress.

Natalie raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, a hint of amused skepticism on her face. “Full? But you haven’t eaten, have you? How can you possibly be full?” She chuckled, a warm, inviting sound, her hand lightly guiding them towards an impossibly long dining table set with gleaming silverware that caught the ambient light from a grand chandelier. “Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving, actually. Ahhmmm. Manang?” she called, her voice carrying easily through the cavernous space.

Moments later, a woman who appeared to be in her late forties, her face etched with a quiet, enduring patience, emerged from the direction of the kitchen. This was Manang Beth, the household’s long-serving anchor. “Yes, Ma’am?” Her voice was soft, deferential, a whisper against the grandeur.

“Please call Jean from her room,” Natalie instructed, her gaze sweeping over the elaborate place settings. “Tell her it’s time to eat.”

“Okay po, Ma’am Natalie,” Manang Beth replied, her footsteps barely audible as she ascended the grand, winding staircase, disappearing for a moment. Just a few minutes later, lighter, quicker footsteps descended. Natalie’s daughter, Jean, appeared at the top of the stairs, her casual attire – a simple t-shirt and shorts – a stark contrast to the formal dining setup below. Her eyes, wide and expectant, swept across the room, seeking out her mother—and then they landed on the unexpected figures of Jeff and Joyce. A flicker of surprise, sharp and undeniable, crossed her face, morphing almost instantly into something unreadable. Her descent halted abruptly, mid-stair. Without a word, without another glance, she simply turned and disappeared back into the shadows of the upper hallway, leaving an unspoken question hanging in the shimmering air of the dining room.

The last echo of forced pleasantries had long since faded, leaving behind a silence in the grand house that felt less like peace and more like a held breath. Natalie pushed open the door to Jean’s bedroom, the soft click barely a ripple in the charged air, and found her daughter hunched on the edge of her plush, oversized bed. Jean’s face, usually animated, was now a pale canvas, illuminated only by the cold, blue glow of her phone screen . “I’ve been calling you for dinner for what felt like an eternity, sweetie,” Natalie began, her voice a practiced murmur as she crossed the vast expanse of the room. She settled beside Jean, her hand instinctively rising to stroke her daughter’s back, tracing careful, soothing circles through the thin fabric of her shirt. “Why didn’t you come down? Is something… wrong?” The question was posed with a forced lightness, a performance of motherly concern.

Jean’s response was a sudden, violent eruption, sharp and laced with raw indignation. “You know what my problem is, Mom.” She punctuated the accusation by flinging her phone onto the duvet, the device bouncing with a surprising thud, a stark punctuation mark against the soft luxury. “Them! Joyce and… and her son! Why are they even here? In my house?”

Natalie let out a long, weary sigh, the sound a quiet surrender to the inevitable storm. She shifted, turning fully towards Jean, her posture rigid. “Jean, darling, we’re flying to Manila tomorrow, remember? For that crucial business trip.” She paused, her voice hardening almost imperceptibly. “They’ll be staying here with you while we’re away. It’s a necessity.” Jean’s eyes, wide with disbelief and a building fury, snapped up to lock onto her mother’s. “Without asking my permission?” Her voice rose, indignation blooming into a full-throated roar that clawed at the quiet dignity of the room. “Mom! You know how much I loathe them. How could you? Why them, of all the wretched people on this earth?”

“This was your Daddy’s decision, Jean,” Natalie stated, the firm line of her mouth a chiseled decree, signaling the absolute end of argument. “And besides, it’s about time you faced reality. It’s good for you to finally get to know your Tita Joyce and… and her son.” Her words were clipped, devoid of warmth.

“No!” Jean shot back, her voice tight with fierce, unyielding obstinacy. “I don’t want to know them. I don’t like them! Not one bit! I hate them!”

“Jean, haven’t we discussed this already?” Natalie’s tone sharpened, a dangerous edge creeping into her voice, the weariness curdling into exasperation. “You simply have to face the cold, hard reality that your Daddy has another family. They are his legal family now. Just try to be cooperative, for once. Believe me, even I’m struggling with this entire godforsaken situation.”

Jean’s eyes, now burning with unshed tears of pure frustration, pleaded, desperate. “Can I just come with you, Mommy, please? I promise I’ll be the best girl on your trip, silent as a shadow, but just… please don’t leave me with them! I can’t breathe if they’re here!”

“That’s not possible, dear,” Natalie replied, her voice firm, an iron wall of refusal. “You have school, and this is a vital business trip, not some leisurely vacation.”

“Hmph!” Jean crossed her arms, a defiant, ugly pout twisting her features. “But why them? Why couldn’t it just be me and Manang Beth here at home? We’d be perfectly fine! Better than fine!” Her words spiraled into a familiar, petulant whine, laced with genuine distress.

“And that’s even less possible, Jean,” Natalie explained, her patience visibly shredding, thin as old lace. “Because there won’t be a blood relative to act as your legal guardian. What if there’s a PTA meeting at your school? No one will be able to attend for you. Do you want your grades to suffer because of this childish stubbornness?”

“Blood relative?” Jean scoffed, her eyes shifting, a contemptuous glint appearing, hardening her young face. “Mom, are you joking? They’re not my blood relatives. They’re strangers! And I certainly don’t have any blood relatives who look like… money-hungry leeches.” The final phrase was spat out, venomous and deliberate.

“Jean, that’s enough!” Natalie snapped, her voice a harsh, cutting whisper, filled with a sudden, devastating fury. “I didn’t raise you to be so rude and utterly disrespectful! Not in my house!”

“But it’s true, isn’t it?” Jean retorted, pushing back against her mother’s reprimand with a chilling defiance. “If I know anything, they’re probably jumping for joy right now, celebrating because they get to live in this palace. Especially Joyce’s son… that little… that little nobody.”

“I said… Stop it, Jean!” Natalie’s voice was barely a whisper, a desperate plea now, laced with raw exhaustion.

“Oookaaaay…” Jean drawled, the defiance still simmering beneath the surface, a dark promise. She paused, then, as if a switch had flipped, she asked, her voice eerily calm, “Oh, by the way, Mommy, how many days are you staying in Manila?”

“Fourteen days,” Natalie replied, already pushing herself up from the bed, her hand finding the cold brass of the doorknob. Her gaze was distant, already in Manila, already trying to escape this suffocating confrontation. She opened the door and stepped out, the soft click of the latch sealing Jean in her opulent prison.

“What?! Two weeks?!” Jean whispered into the sudden, vast silence of her room, the words tearing from her throat. “That’s so long… Two whole weeks of enduring those uneducated, worthless people… Ugh! Fine! I might as well just sleep now… BWISIT!” The final word, a guttural snarl of frustration and disgust, echoed unheard in the luxurious chamber, a last furious declaration before she burrowed under her covers, seeking escape in the oblivion of sleep.

---

The next morning, the pervasive humidity of Iloilo City clung to everything, even the air around Jeff and Riley as they settled onto a sun-dappled bench just outside the bustling campus gates. The last bell of Jeff’s classes had barely faded into the urban hum, leaving behind a familiar buzz of student activity.

“So, how’s your stay at your dad’s place, babe?” Riley asked, his voice deliberately casual, but his eyes held a subtle flicker of keen interest.

Jeff’s response was a noncommittal shrug, a gesture that conveyed more than his clipped words. “Hmmm. It’s okay.” The phrase hung in the air, a deliberate understatement.

Riley’s brows furrowed, a slight crease forming between them. “Just ‘okay’? That’s incredibly vague, babe,” he pressed, a hint of playful exasperation in his tone. “Come on, elaborate. Give me the details. Spill.” A sudden, unexpected smirk tugged at the corner of Jeff’s lips, and a soft, knowing chuckle escaped him. Riley immediately caught the shift. “Oh? Why are you laughing? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, po. Hehe,” Jeff teased, shaking his head. “It’s just… you’re activating your call-center agent mode again. All that formal English, you know.”

Riley’s frown deepened, the playful annoyance now eclipsed by genuine irritation. “So…? What’s wrong with that?” “So touchy,” Jeff murmured, feigning hurt, a slight pout forming. “I was just making a joke.”

“Well, you know, babe,” Riley countered, his voice losing its lightness, a defensive edge creeping in. “Your joke was a bit out of place. This isn’t the time for that.”

“Is that so?” Jeff scoffed, a genuine sting in his voice now. “That really hurts, you know. To hear you say that.”

“There,” Riley sighed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, though a real weariness settled on his features. “Now you’re the one who’s mad.”

“Well, who wouldn’t be mad? You’re being incredibly cranky today!” Jeff retorted, his own irritation bubbling to the surface, mirroring Riley’s.

“Oh, for goodness sake. Fine. I’m sorry, po,” Riley conceded, the apology edged with exasperation rather than true remorse. But then, it was Jeff’s turn to frown, his brow knitting together, sensing a deeper current beneath Riley’s mood. “Oh, what is it now?” Riley asked, catching Jeff’s scrutinizing gaze.

“You’re in a terrible mood today,” Jeff observed, the earlier banter forgotten, a genuine concern now softening his features. “Do you… do you have a problem, a real one?”

Riley sighed, a heavier, more profound sound this time, laden with something unseen. “Hmmmm. I do.”

“No wonder,” Jeff murmured, a sudden, almost uncomfortable empathy surfacing. “What is it?”

“Work,” Riley confessed, his gaze drifting to the distant, chaotic movement of students flowing out of the campus. He picked at a loose thread on his jeans. “Why? Were you fired?” Jeff’s voice was edged with immediate worry.

“No, babe.”

“Then what?”

“I had a fight with someone last night,” Riley admitted, his jaw tightening, his eyes taking on a distant, hardened look. “We argued, and we almost got into a fistfight.”

“Huh?” Jeff gasped, surprised, his concern momentarily overriding his earlier irritation. “What on earth caused the fight? Who were you fighting with?”

“Remember yesterday, when I mentioned Fred’s ex?” Riley asked, his eyes meeting Jeff’s, seeking confirmation. Jeff nodded slowly, a small, puzzled gesture, the pieces of information beginning to click into place. “That’s her. She was the one who picked a fight with me last night.”

“So, that means Fred’s ex works with you?” Jeff asked, slowly piecing together the unexpected revelation.

“Yup,” Riley confirmed, a bitter taste in his mouth. “And I only found that out last night. Out of nowhere.”

“But why did she pick a fight with you, babe? What set her off?” Jeff pressed, confused by the sudden, intense animosity.

“She thought I was Fred’s replacement for her,” Riley explained, a wry, humorless twist to his lips. “She just assumed. I guess she was jealous. Possessive, even.”

“Ahh, okay,” Jeff replied, the realization dawning on him, a familiar and unwelcome pang echoing within his own chest. He felt a sudden, unexpected kinship with the unnamed ex. “I feel him, you know. I completely understand.”

Riley turned, surprised by Jeff’s unexpected empathy. “Why, babe? What do you mean?”

“Because I get jealous too,” Jeff confessed, his voice dropping, almost a whisper, laced with a vulnerability he rarely showed. He looked away, embarrassed, kicking at a loose pebble with his shoe, drawing patterns in the dirt. “But I just… I just don’t let it show. I keep it hidden.”

Riley reached out, his fingers gently closing over Jeff’s hand, his touch warm and reassuring, a silent promise. “Hmmm. Babe, come on. Didn’t I tell you there’s nothing for you to be jealous of? Nothing at all.”

“Yes,” Jeff admitted, his gaze still fixed on the ground, but his fingers twined with Riley’s. “But you can’t stop me from getting jealous, babe. It’s just… it’s like I get so utterly annoyed with him every single time you two are together. That intense feeling just washes over me.”

Riley squeezed his hand tighter, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles on Jeff’s skin, a silent, powerful connection. “Just trust me, okay? You have to. I love you.” His voice was soft, earnest, a quiet promise meant to soothe the unspoken anxieties that stirred between them, a lifeline offered in the subtle drama of their shared anxieties.

---

The following morning, the humid Iloilo air already thick and shimmering by eight o’clock, the sprawling house hummed with a quiet, almost clinical efficiency. Natalie and William, dressed in crisp, business-appropriate attire, were meticulously preparing for their departure to Manila. It wasn’t a leisurely trip; it was a necessary journey of oversight, a meticulous “check-in” on the intricate web of their businesses based in the capital. Their imminent absence would cast a long, lingering shadow over the opulent residence, leaving Jean to her own devices—and, more significantly, leaving Jeff and Joyce entirely at her mercy.

It was well into the afternoon when Jean finally stirred from the indulgent depths of her sleep, the late hour a testament to her inherent disdain for anything resembling a morning routine. Her stomach, however, paid no mind to her rebellion, its insistent rumbling a primal call that dragged her from the luxurious confines of her room down to the expansive, gleaming kitchen. There, amidst the polished stainless steel and cool marble of the countertops, she found Manang Beth, their ever-present house helper, her movements practiced and efficient, already meticulously preparing the evening meal.

“Manang…?” Jean called out, her voice a languid, bored drawl, as she pulled open the refrigerator door, her eyes scanning its lavish contents with a critical, dismissive gaze.

“Yes, Ma’am Jean?” Manang Beth replied, her voice soft, deferential, her hands never faltering in their task.

“What’s that?” Jean demanded, her finger pointing with disdain at the pan where Manang Beth was expertly flipping something golden and fragrant.

“Fried fish, Ma’am,” came the quiet, immediate response, devoid of inflection.

Jean’s eyes rolled skyward, a dramatic, almost theatrical gesture of pure exasperation. “I know it’s fish, Manang. My question is, why are you cooking that? You know perfectly well I detest that kind of dish. It’s utterly pedestrian.” Her tone was sharp, a cutting edge that sliced through the domestic calm.

“This was your Mommy’s order, Ma’am,” Manang Beth offered, her head bowed slightly, a familiar gesture of polite, ingrained submission.

“What?!” Jean’s voice shot up, echoing in the vast, high-ceilinged kitchen, a sudden, piercing shriek of utter disbelief. “Mommy, really…?” The words hung, laced with a bitter resentment.

“But it’s delicious, Ma’am. You just haven’t tried it,” Manang Beth ventured, a tiny, almost imperceptible note of gentle defense, a flicker of professional pride.

“Oh, hold on,” Jean interjected, her voice dripping with the syrupy condescension of absolute power. “I don’t need your opinion, Manang, so just be quiet. Do you understand?”

“Sorry, Ma’am,” Manang Beth murmured, her head bowing even lower, the silent apology a heavy weight in the air, a testament to years of learned obedience. A new, subtly predatory glint entered Jean’s eyes, a dangerous, calculating idea taking root. “Ah, Manang,” she began, her tone now unexpectedly mild, almost cloyingly sweet. “When was your last vacation home? To your province, I mean?”

Manang Beth paused, her hands still over the pan, her brow furrowed in thought. She truly had to think, to dig deep through the years, for the memory. “I don’t know, Ma’am… maybe about five years ago,” the helper finally answered, the realization of the vast stretch of time, the immense absence from her own family, settling heavy on her conscience.

“Five years, Manang, huh?” Jean mused, her voice still unnervingly soft, an almost purring sound. “That’s a very long time, isn’t it?… Hmmm… Don’t you miss them? Your family? Your husband and children?”

“I do, Ma’am…” Manang Beth replied, her voice thick with raw, aching emotion. “Very much so… I really want to hug them tightly.” As if on cue, a single, glistening tear escaped and tracked a path down her weathered cheek, a silent testament to the deep, unyielding ache for her loved ones, so far away in the distant province.

“Really?” Jean’s voice became sharper, a cruel, eager anticipation creeping in. “Do you want to go see them now? This very moment?” Manang Beth’s worn face lifted, a spark of incredulous hope igniting in her eyes, a fragile, desperate flame of possibility.

“I’d like to, Ma’am, truly,” Manang Beth began, hope warring with an ingrained trepidation, “but there’ll be no one to look after you if I leave, and your Mommy and Daddy might be very angry.”

“Haaay, Manang,” Jean sighed, her tone now laced with bored dismissiveness, and she strode across the gleaming floor, closing the distance between them, asserting dominance. “No worries. I’m an adult, aren’t I? I know perfectly well what to do here. And besides,” she added, a sly, almost cruel smirk playing on her lips, “I have company now, don’t I?” Jean’s “reassurance” was chillingly manipulative, a thinly veiled threat.

“But your Mommy said—” Manang Beth started, her voice barely a whisper, clutching at the last thread of her standing orders.

“—that you should go home and take a vacation,” Jean interjected, her voice dripping with fabricated authority, seamlessly weaving a lie. “That’s what she told me to tell you. Her exact words, in fact. She was very insistent.”

“Are you sure, Ma’am?” Manang Beth’s eyes, clouded with doubt and desperate hope, searched Jean’s face, a desperate plea for genuine honesty.

“Of course… Do I look like I’m lying?” Jean answered, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow arching in exaggerated, mocking indignation. With a flourish, she produced a thick, crisp envelope from her pocket, the soft rustle of paper a whispered declaration of power. “And here’s the money… Mommy said to tell you to come back after exactly twelve days. Not a minute sooner, not a minute later.” She held out the envelope, its contents bulging with a thick wad of cash, a bribe, a lure.

“Ma’am, what’s this?” the woman asked, her fingers trembling slightly as she instinctively began to count the thick bundle of bills, her eyes widening in disbelief, then fear.

“It’s money, Manang,” Jean retorted, her voice dripping with open scorn. “Haven’t you ever held that much money before? Is it truly that foreign to you?” Her lip curled, a sneer forming. “But then again, you are a beggar, aren’t you? Living on handouts.”

“I know, Ma’am,” Manang Beth’s voice was barely audible, profoundly humbled by the venomous insult, “but why are you giving me this much money…? Are you… are you trying to fire me…?” Her face was pale with dread.

“Don’t be so idiotic, Manang!” Jean snapped, her dwindling patience finally worn thin. “You’ll use that to buy pasalubong for your children, obviously. Presents. Now hurry up!”

“Ahh… okay, Ma’am… Thank you very much, truly,” Manang Beth stammered, her eyes now brimming with a painful mix of gratitude and overwhelming confusion. She reached out, her hand gently, reverently, touching Jean’s arm in a profound gesture of thanks. Jean recoiled instantly, a sharp, violent movement, as if Manang Beth’s humble touch was contaminated, repulsive.

“Don’t Touch Me!!” Jean snarled, her voice laced with pure, unadulterated disgust. “Go change and leave immediately. Just be back in exactly twelve days. Not a minute sooner, not a minute later. Understand?”

“But it’s already night, Ma’am, and there are no buses traveling at this hour,” the helper reasoned, her voice timid, yet desperate, pleading for common sense.

“Oh, fine… you can postpone your trip home then,” Jean conceded, a flicker of something calculating, malicious, in her eyes. “But your vacation starts now. As in, this very moment.”

“What do you mean, Ma’am?” Manang Beth asked, utterly bewildered, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Haayy. You truly are dense,” Jean sighed, her patience snapping like a dry twig. “I said, you can rest now. Go. Leave all your unfinished tasks right there. Don’t touch another thing. You’re off the clock.”

“But Ma’am—” Manang Beth started, a protest forming on her lips, her gaze sweeping over the half-prepared dinner, the unswept floors, the piles of work left undone.

“—Don’t argue, okay?” Jean’s voice was a cold, cutting command, leaving no room for defiance. “Just go to your room and rest. Now.”

With no room left for protest, Manang Beth finally bowed her head in defeat, her shoulders slumped in acquiescence. She turned and moved slowly towards her modest quarters, leaving behind the piles of unfinished chores in the kitchen, a stark, silent testament to Jean’s capricious cruelty. Jean, a triumphant, wicked glint in her eyes, ascended the grand staircase once more, retreating to the sanctuary of her room to revel in her victory and while away the hours.

Hours later, the opulent living room, usually a tableau of silent, untouchable luxury, was abruptly punctuated by the blare of a television show. Jean, bored with her own company, descended the grand staircase once more, a predator seeking new prey.

“Manang!!…Manaang!!” Jean’s scream suddenly pierced the quiet of the house, sharp and furious, filled with an impatient, demanding rage. “What is it?! Why is it taking so long?!”

From the direction of her temporary room, Joyce emerged immediately, drawn by the furious summons, her face etched with concern. “Oh, Jean… What is it? Manang Beth is asleep. Do you need something from her?”

“Yes,” Jean stated, her eyes narrowed, fixed on Joyce.

“Okay, I’ll wake her up then, Jean,” Joyce replied, already moving towards the kitchen. “She hasn’t even finished the chores in the kitchen yet.”

“No. Don’t wake her up.” Jean’s voice was chillingly calm, a sinister undertone emerging.

“Then why?” Joyce paused, a question mark hanging in her tone, a flicker of apprehension in her eyes.

“Because you’re going to do her tasks,” Jean declared, a slow, malicious smile spreading across her face, a triumphant unveiling of her scheme.

“Why me…?” Joyce asked, her voice quiet, almost a whisper of disbelief, her body stiffening.

“Who else looks like a maid here, besides Manang?” Jean scoffed, her insult now openly contemptuous, her gaze raking over Joyce’s simple, unassuming attire, comparing it to the lavishness of her surroundings. “Isn’t it just you? The poor relation, looking utterly out of place.”

A profound, suffocating silence descended, heavy with the weight of Jean’s cruelty, her words a whip-crack in the quiet. Joyce said nothing, her face unreadable, save for a faint, melancholic smile that touched her lips, a mask for unimaginable pain. “Okay, Jean. If that’s what you want. I’ll finish it.” Her voice was soft, resigned, filled with a deep, weary acceptance.

“Good. And by the way, it’s Ma’am Jean. That’s what you’ll call me from now on. Understand?”

“Yes… Ma’am Jean,” Joyce replied, her voice barely audible, the new title a brand. “I’ll go to the kitchen now, Ma’am.” Her eyes, however, held a glint of something unyielding, something Jean did not yet perceive.

“Okay. Oh, and one more thing, Joyce.”

“Yes, Ma’am?” Joyce paused, already turning towards the kitchen, expecting another petty demand.

“Just throw away that fried fish Manang Beth cooked. I don’t like it. It smells awful.” Jean commanded, her voice casual, as if discussing the weather.

“But, Ma’am. It’d be a terrible waste if we just throw it away,” Joyce pleaded, a hint of concern for the food, for the labor, for the sheer senselessness, in her voice.

“Why? Are we using your money to buy our viands here?” Jean retorted, her voice rising, sharp and dangerous, dripping with contempt, asserting her unquestionable power.

“No, Ma’am,” Joyce answered, her voice a defeated whisper, her gaze dropping.

“Oh, so that’s how it is, is it?” Jean screamed, her rage fully unleashed now, her voice echoing in the cavernous living room, a venomous attack on Jeff’s mother, a final, crushing blow. “Don’t you dare complain! Follow my orders! Now!”

---

The vibrant Iloilo evening had already settled into its dusky embrace, draping the sprawling city in a cloak of deepening blues and purples. It was well past seven when the grand house, a monument to wealth Jeff was quickly learning to resent, finally welcomed him home. A soft, tantalizing glow emanating from the kitchen drew his eye, and he instinctively gravitated towards it, his tired footsteps echoing with an unfamiliar hollowness on the cool, polished floors. There, amidst the gleam of stainless steel and the subtle hum of high-end appliances, he found his mother, Joyce, her back to him, her shoulders a little more slumped than usual, diligently tending to a sizzling pan.

“Good evening, ’Nay,” Jeff murmured, the traditional gesture of mano – taking her hand to his forehead – a familiar comfort in this increasingly alien environment. He sighed, scrubbing a weary hand over his face. “Hay naku, ’Nay. This subdivision is something else. It’s like a fortress. Tricycles barely ever come in. Remember back home? You could flag one down in seconds, just like that. This place is… isolated.”

Joyce offered a small, almost imperceptible smile, her gaze still fixed on the stove as she stirred the contents of the pan. Her voice was calm, a soft, weary current against the rising tide of his frustration. “You’ll get used to it, son.” Her focus, Jeff noticed with a slight pang of hunger, was entirely on the surprisingly small portion of food simmering. “How was your day, ’nak?”

“It was okay, po, ’Nay,” Jeff said, his stomach emitting a loud, undeniable protest. His gaze, drawn by the faint, tantalizing aroma, fixed on the pan. A puzzled frown creased his brow. “Why are you cooking such a small amount, ’Nay? Is that just for me? I’m starving.”

Joyce finally turned, her movements slow, deliberate, and a faint sigh escaped her lips, laden with something unspoken. “No, ’nak. This is just for Jean.”

A jolt went through Jeff. His frown deepened, morphing into incredulity. “Huh? Why only for her? And where’s Manang Beth? Isn’t she supposed to be cooking tonight? What’s going on?”

“She ordered me to cook her dish for her,” Joyce explained, her voice flat, devoid of any discernible emotion, as if relaying a mundane, unavoidable fact of life. The words hung in the air, heavy with a silent history Jeff was only just beginning to grasp.

Jeff’s eyes widened, a dawning horror stealing over him. “Really? She ordered you? Then where’s ours? What about our dinner, ’Nay? We’re starving!” His voice rose, tinged with disbelief and a nascent anger. Q Before Joyce could offer another meek explanation, a sharp, imperious voice, cutting like a blade, sliced through the kitchen’s warm air. “Well, you’ll just have canned sardines.” Jean, a triumphant, almost predatory smirk on her face, had materialized silently in the doorway, her presence casting an immediate, chilling pall over the small, intimate scene. Her eyes, cold and assessing, swept over Jeff, then settled on Joyce. “That’s all you two will have for your meal. Nothing more, nothing less. Consider it your proper place.” Her words were delivered with the chilling precision of a decree.

The scene now emphasizes Jeff’s growing awareness of Jean’s cruelty and Joyce’s silent suffering. The “canned sardines” become a symbol of their diminished status.

To be continued…

Chapter 6 (A Sister’s Cruelty)

A tremor of unease rippled through the kitchen as Jean materialized, a phantom in the doorway. Her sudden appearance, as if conjured from the very air, startled Jeff, who had been focused on the simmering pot. A beatific, almost unsettling smile played on her lips, a disturbing mirth that seemed to find cruel delight in the fragile tension between mother and son. “Only sardines?” Jeff’s voice, sharper than he intended, cut through the quiet, the words laced with a burgeoning frustration.

Jean, a predator sensing weakness, began to advance, her movements fluid and deliberate. Her eyes, glinting with a cold amusement, locked onto Jeff’s. “Oh? You don’t like them?” she purred, her voice a silken whip, each word designed to sting. “You should be eternally grateful there’s even a morsel for you to put in your mouths. So don’t you dare complain. This paltry meal wasn’t bought with your precious, non-existent money.”

A slow, burning fire ignited in Jeff’s gut. He mirrored her aggressive posture, stepping closer, his own voice dropping to a dangerous, controlled whisper. “Hold on a minute,” he warned, his gaze unyielding. “Watch your tongue when you speak to us. First, let me be clear: I wasn’t complaining. We are well accustomed to simple meals. And second, if you were to greedily devour every last scrap of food in this house, I wouldn’t bat an eye.”

A derisive, almost triumphant laugh bubbled from Jean. “Accustomed? Is that why you’re here, then?” Her gaze, a dismissive raking motion, swept over him. “You’re clinging to us, aren’t you? Forcing yourselves upon our hospitality because there’s absolutely nothing left for you at your own place.”

The sharp retort was already forming on Jeff’s lips, a venomous response ready to be unleashed. But then, a surprisingly firm hand clamped down on his arm. His mother, Joyce, stood beside him, her presence a silent plea. “Son, please,” she murmured, her voice a raw, desperate whisper. “Don’t speak back.”

Jean’s smile widened into a triumphant sneer, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Your mother’s right, Jeff. Don’t bother. No matter what elaborate explanations you try to concoct, that’s still the undeniable truth of why you’re squatting here.” Her gaze, sharp and commanding, flicked to Joyce. “Is my food ready yet?”

“Almost,” Joyce replied, her voice barely a breath.

“Just call me when it’s done, okay?” Jean ordered, a dismissive wave of her hand a clear signal of her authority. “I’m going back to my room.” With a dramatic swirl of fabric, she turned on her heel and ascended the stairs, leaving an unsettling stillness in her wake, a vacuum of cold air where her presence had been.

Jeff remained rooted to the spot, a statuesque figure, the shock of the encounter still radiating through his very bones. After a long, drawn-out moment, his mother’s hand gently, tentatively, touched his arm again. “Come on, son,” Joyce said, her voice soft, imbued with an unbearable weariness that etched itself into her features. “Go change in our room so we can finally eat.”

Jeff’s eyes lingered on his mother, a silent, unspoken question hanging heavy in the air between them. “Mom, why did you stop me?” he finally asked, the words barely a whisper.

“Don’t antagonize her, son,” his mother replied, her voice filled with a familiar, deep-seated ache, a burden she had carried for too long. “We’re just guests in their house.”

“Guests?” Jeff’s voice cracked, incredulous, disbelief etched onto his face. “But they were the ones who begged us to live here, weren’t they? They asked for our help!”

“That’s enough, son,” his mother insisted, her tone firm, final, brooking no further argument. “Just be quiet.”

A tempest raged within Jeff, a desperate, almost primal urge to confront Jean, to unleash the torrent of anger and humiliation she had ignited. Yet, his mother’s quiet plea, her unspoken weariness that transcended words, held him captive, binding him tighter than any physical restraint. With a heavy, defeated sigh, he turned and disappeared into their shared room, the door closing softly behind him, offering a fleeting moment of quiet solitude to shed the layers of resentment and swallow the bitter pill of their current reality.

---

The meager light filtering through the window of their borrowed room seemed to mock the oppressive weight Jeff carried. The moment he crossed the threshold, he allowed himself to surrender, collapsing onto the thin mattress. His hands, almost on instinct, reached for the laces of his worn shoes, untying them with a weary efficiency, followed by the soft sigh as his socks peeled away. He stretched out, a deep, bone-weary ache settling into every muscle, a testament to a day spent not just in the rigorous halls of academia, but in the unseen, relentless battle against the casual cruelty of his stepsister, Jean. She was a constant, insidious drain, leaving him feeling frayed and brittle.

A desperate longing for connection, for anything that felt like his, propelled him to retrieve his phone from the depths of his bag. The smooth, cool plastic was a small, tangible comfort in a world suddenly devoid of his own anchors. He navigated to Riley’s contact, the familiar name a beacon, and pressed the call button, listening to the rhythmic hum before the connection solidified.

A crisp, almost too-perfect voice answered, “Hello. This is Riley Kristoffer Dechavez speaking. How may I help you, sir?” The formality, even in Riley’s playful attempt at professional detachment, felt oddly jarring against the chaos of Jeff’s reality.

A faint, weary smile, a ghost of his usual humor, touched Jeff’s lips. “Babe, come on,” he managed, the words laced with a longing for their easy banter. “You’re still playing jokes?”

A light, airy chuckle, like the tinkling of wind chimes, drifted through the line. “Hehe. Sorry, babe. Actually, I’m literally on my way to work. Have you eaten yet?” The question was a simple one, yet it held a tenderness that made Jeff’s chest ache.

“Not yet,” Jeff admitted, the truth heavy. Then, the real confession, the one that transcended hunger, caught in his throat. “Babe…?”

“Yes?” Riley’s voice was soft, laced with an intuitive concern that always seemed to cut through Jeff’s defenses.

“I just… I miss you, babe,” Jeff confessed, the words a raw, unfiltered admission of his profound loneliness. It wasn’t just physical absence he grieved, but the absence of peace, of safety, of a place where he didn’t feel constantly on edge.

“Miss you too, my baby,” Riley replied, and the warmth that spread through the phone line was a palpable balm. “Even though we just saw each other earlier. Hehe.” The familiar, self-deprecating humor was a small anchor in the storm.

A sudden, suffocating silence descended upon Jeff. The easy levity of their exchange had vanished, replaced by the daunting, insurmountable weight of his unspoken troubles. How could he possibly articulate the venomous words, the sharp, deliberate slights that Jean inflicted? How could he make Riley understand the suffocating atmosphere of this house without sounding weak, or worse, ungrateful?

“Babe?” Riley’s voice, now tinged with undeniable concern, sliced through the quiet. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, babe,” Jeff lied, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. “Just a small problem, but I can handle it.” He needed to be strong, to project an image of capability, even when he felt like he was drowning.

“Are you sure?” Riley pressed, his doubt a subtle, insistent hum beneath his words.

“Yes. I’m sure,” Jeff insisted, forcing a conviction he didn’t quite possess. “I just missed you. I just wanted to hear your voice, babe.” He yearned for the comforting normalcy of their conversations, a brief, precious escape from the unrelenting pressure cooker that was his new home.

“Wow. My babe’s so sweet,” Riley’s voice brightened, momentarily distracted by the affection. “Alright, babe, so what now? I’ll see you again tomorrow, okay? I’m at the office now. Gotta work for our future.” The mention of “their future” was a potent promise, a shimmering dream that Jeff clung to amidst the present bleakness.

“Okay, babe. Take care.” The words were automatic, a well-worn path of affection.

“Okay,” Riley said, his voice brimming with a palpable tenderness. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The words were a lifeline, a silent promise to himself that he would endure.

With a soft, almost inaudible click, Jeff ended the call, the lingering warmth of Riley’s voice a faint echo in the quiet room. He slipped the phone beneath his pillow, as if to keep the connection, the love, physically close. Almost immediately, a gentle, yet insistent, knock sounded at the door, and his mother, Joyce, entered, her presence a soft, tired shadow.

“Son, dinner’s ready,” she announced, her voice carrying a weary tenderness that spoke of her own burdens. Her gaze, filled with concern, swept over him. “You haven’t even changed yet?”

“Yes, Mom. Just a moment. Go ahead, I’ll follow,” Jeff replied, pushing himself up, the brief, fragile respite from the day dissolving like mist in the morning sun.

“Okay. Hurry up, then.” Joyce’s voice, though soft, held an unspoken urgency, a quiet command to rejoin the fray.

As he emerged from the sanctuary of their room, the scent of a simple meal—rice and, no doubt, the ubiquitous sardines—wafted from the dining area, a fleeting promise of sustenance. But the illusion of peace shattered the moment his eyes landed on Jean. She was already seated, a formidable figure at the head of the dining table, presiding over the meager fare like an unchallenged queen on her throne. Jeff instinctively moved towards his usual spot, the right side of the table, his body aching for the simple comfort of food. But a sharp, cutting voice, like a precisely aimed dart, stopped him dead in his tracks.

The air in the grand dining room, moments ago thick with the promise of a meal, fractured under the impact of Jean’s voice. “Hey! What are you doing?” Her words, as rigid and sharp as a honed blade, sliced through the already tense atmosphere, freezing Jeff mid-stride as he approached the table.

“Eating, obviously,” Jeff shot back, the familiar taunt a deliberate spark against Jean’s flinty resolve. The words, however, were laced with a raw, suppressed irritation that simmered just beneath his skin. “What do you think I’m doing? Sleeping?”

Jean’s eyes narrowed, thin slits of contempt. Her patience, always a brittle thing, was visibly fraying. “Can you please answer me properly, Jeff? Don’t be a smart aleck.” Her command hung in the humid Iloilo air, cold and unforgiving, a decree rather than a request.

“I am answering you properly,” he retorted, his jaw tight, a muscle twitching near his temple.

“Whatever…” Jean dismissed him with a contemptuous flick of her hand, then circled back, her gaze chillingly direct, piercing him like ice shards. “Why are you sitting here? Go eat at the helper’s table with your mother. That’s where you both belong.” The final words were delivered with a venomous sweetness, a deliberate barb meant to sink deep.

The insult, a bitter, metallic pill, burned in Jeff’s throat. He swallowed it, forcing a strained, almost painful smile that felt more like a grimace. Every fiber of his being screamed in protest, urged him to lash out, but he forced himself to push away from the polished table. He wouldn’t give her the perverse satisfaction of witnessing his anger.

The shift from the formal dining room to the cramped, utilitarian space of the dirty kitchen felt like crossing a threshold into a different, grittier reality. Here, the air was thick with the scent of cooking and the humid breath of Iloilo, far from the false veneer of politeness. He found his mother, Joyce, already hunched over her plate, her shoulders slumped with a weariness that went beyond physical exertion. Their meal, as expected, was a single, humble can of sardines, its humble presence a stark, glaring contrast to the slightly more varied spread he’d glimpsed in the main dining area. Jeff paid the meager dish no mind; his hunger was overshadowed by a different, more profound ache. He simply sat down, the worn stool groaning softly under his weight, and prepared to eat.

“Finally, you’re here, son. I’ve been waiting for you,” Joyce murmured, her voice a soft, almost imperceptible caress. “I went ahead and ate because I was so hungry.” Her gaze, however, quickly softened as it fell on the deep furrow in his brow, the irritation etched into every rigid line of his face. “Why the frown? Is there a problem again?”

“You know, Mom. I’m really getting annoyed with Jean,” Jeff burst out, his voice tight, his breathing quickening with each word as his anger, barely suppressed, resurfaced. “One more time she does this to us, and I swear I’m going to confront her. I won’t hold back.”

“What did she do to you?” Joyce asked, her own expression clouding with deepening concern.

“She told me to leave the table and said we should eat out here,” he explained, gesturing vaguely around the cramped, humble space. “That’s what’s making me so angry, Mom. That woman is only brave because her parents aren’t here.”

“Jeff. Calm down, okay?” Joyce advised, her voice a soothing balm against his fury, a familiar plea that carried the weight of countless past skirmishes. “This is their house, and we’re just staying here. We need to respect their decisions. Don’t be angry.” Her words, though gentle, were a familiar refrain, a constant, painful reminder of their precarious, dependent position.

“Respect? Mom… they’re the ones who should know about respect! They were the ones who asked us for the favor of living here. And then their nasty daughter treats us like this? That’s not fair.” The injustice of it all burned in his chest, hot and undeniable, a corrosive acid eating at his composure.

Joyce reached across the small, scarred table, her hand gently rubbing Jeff’s back, a silent, comforting gesture meant to quell the storm raging within him. “Just eat, son,” she urged, her voice softening further, laced with a desperate plea. “You’re the one who needs to understand your sister, because first of all, you’re older than her, and you understand what’s happening more.” Joyce sighed, a heavy, resigned sound that seemed to carry the weight of all her unspoken burdens. “Can I still count on you, Jeffrey?”

Jeff could only manage a curt nod in response to his mother’s heartfelt, weary plea. There was nothing else he could do. It was her request, a silent, profound understanding passing between them, a shared burden that had become their daily bread. He would swallow his pride, bitter as it tasted, solely for the sake of his mother’s desperate, enduring wish to keep their fragmented family whole, or at least, appearing so in the face of such chilling disdain.

---

The oppressive heat of an Iloilo Friday afternoon pressed down on the school grounds, but within the small, sun-dappled pocket where Jeff, Alvin, and Jacqui sat perched on a worn bench, a different kind of heat simmered. Their conversation, as it invariably did these days, spiraled back to the thorny subject of Jean, Jeff’s stepsister.

“There’s something… mysterious about Jean, Jeff,” Alvin mused, his brow furrowed, a thoughtful hand stroking his chin. “She’s like a locked room, isn’t she?”

Jeff, already weary from another morning navigating the treacherous currents of Jean’s disdain, just sighed. “Why do you say that?” he asked, though a part of him dreaded the answer, knowing it would only unearth more layers of his own frustration.

“Well, what’s her reason for acting that way towards you two?” Alvin pressed, his gaze earnest. “There has to be one. People don’t just… hate for no reason.”

“I wish I knew,” Jeff admitted, the words heavy with genuine confusion. “She just seems to have it in for us, like we personally offended her the moment we stepped into that house.”

Jacqui, ever the astute observer, leaned forward, a speculative glint in her eyes. “Maybe she’s insecure,” she interjected, her voice thoughtful, almost conspiratorial. “Because she thought she was the one-and-only child in the family. She probably didn’t realize she suddenly had siblings.”

Alvin’s eyes widened. “Really? Are you sure?” he asked, genuinely surprised by the psychological angle.

“Not really. It’s just my theory,” Jacqui countered, shrugging, but a confident smile played on her lips. “But maybe, right? It would explain a lot.”

“Hmm. I don’t know about her,” Jeff muttered, dismissing the idea with a weary wave of his hand. “Honestly, I’m not interested in her life drama. Just want to survive it.”

Jacqui, sensing a shift in the conversational winds, pounced. “Changing the subject, buddy. How’s their house, anyway? Is it really that big? Like, really big?” Her eyes, bright with an almost childlike wonder, shone at the prospect of opulence.

A faint hint of awe, despite himself, crept into Jeff’s voice. “Super… It’s like a mansion.”

“Really? Let’s go there, buddy!” Jacqui exclaimed, her excitement palpable, her voice rising in pitch. “I’ve never seen a mansion in person before! Imagine, in Iloilo, a real one!”

Jeff recoiled, the idea preposterous, almost laughable in its absurdity. “Huh? Are you serious? Jean and I aren’t even on good terms, and you want me to bring guests over? She’d have a meltdown!”

“What’s wrong with that?” Jacqui countered, her logic surprisingly sound. “You’re the owner’s son, aren’t you?” A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she reminded him of his surprising, if complicated, status.

“Oh, come on,” Jeff grumbled, running a hand through his hair. “Even so. She’ll probably twist it, use it against me somehow. She might even tell her dad, and I’ll be in even deeper trouble.” He could already envision Jean’s manipulative tactics, the way she’d spin the innocent visit into an act of defiance.

“Oh, you’re such a buzzkill,” Jacqui pouted, her lower lip jutting out in a dramatic, theatrical display. “Come on, buddy. Please?” Her voice transformed into a sweet, coaxing whine.

“No, I said no. You’re so persistent!” Jeff insisted, his patience wearing thin, the fine line between annoyance and reluctant amusement blurring.

“Is that how it is?” Jacqui’s voice took on a hurt tone, a calculated move designed to guilt-trip him, “Can you really resist your super beautiful friend? It’s only once I’m asking for a favor, and you’re refusing? Fine, if that’s what you want. I won’t force you anymore.” She paused, letting her words hang in the air, then delivered the final, devastating blow. “But next time you ask for help, I won’t help you either.”

“Ugh!” Jeff groaned, throwing his hands up in a gesture of utter defeat. The combined weight of her theatricality and his underlying affection for her was too much to bear. “Oh, fine. Alright. Let’s go!”

“Yay! Thank you, bestie! Love na love talaga kita!” Jacqui cheered, her face lighting up with genuine delight as she threw her arms around him in a tight hug. “Just be quiet already. You’re so loud,” Jeff grumbled, but a small, undeniable smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He knew he’d been played, but a part of him didn’t entirely mind. “Let’s go. You’re getting me into trouble.”

The three of them piled into a waiting taxi, the worn seats and familiar hum of the engine a small comfort as they headed towards Jeff’s new, temporary residence. As they stepped out of the vehicle and into the grand, imposing entrance of the house, a collective gasp escaped their lips. Their reactions were identical: mouths agape, eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and utter awe, utterly dumbfounded by the sheer, overwhelming grandeur of what lay before them. It was a sight unlike anything they had ever witnessed, a stark, breathtaking monument to a life far removed from their own.

“Wooow! This house is so big!” Jacqui’s voice, usually a lively mezzo, now soared with an affected dramatic flair, echoing slightly in the grand entrance hall. Her arms spread wide, encompassing the cavernous space as if to embrace its sheer enormity. The morning light, filtered through the ornate window panes, seemed to dance across the polished marble, adding to the almost dreamlike quality of the moment.

“Yeah, Jeff… the house truly is huge. I never would’ve imagined your dad was this rich,” Alvin added, his eyes wide, still taking in the soaring ceilings and gleaming floors, a stark contrast to the more modest homes they were accustomed to in Iloilo City. A playful grin touched his lips. “Could I get adopted, too? Hehe.”

“Oh, please. You just want to live with him so every morning is happy when you wake up,” Jacqui quipped, nudging Alvin with her elbow, a sly glint in her eyes. She glanced conspiratorially at Jeff, checking if he’d caught Alvin’s thinly veiled admiration, but Jeff’s face remained impassive, betraying no reaction. Jacqui quickly mumbled a low “Sorry, Alvin” for her babbling, a brief moment of self-correction. “Hey, friend,” she then whispered, poking Jeff’s side, her voice dropping to a theatrical stage whisper, “Where is your wicked half-sister?”

“I don’t know…” Jeff mumbled, a weariness seeping into his tone. “Probably upstairs, cooped up in her room, like a vampire in her coffin, avoiding the sunlight and everyone in it.”

“Good thing she’s not down here,” Jacqui muttered, her teeth grinding together with a sound that was almost audible in the vast silence of the hall. “If she were here… she’d really get a taste of my nastiness… ugh! Just you wait!”

“Oh really? You’d probably freeze up solid if she were actually here, like a fish out of water,” Alvin countered, a smirk playing on his lips, enjoying Jacqui’s bluster, knowing it was largely for show.

“No way!” Jacqui retorted, defiance flashing in her eyes. “If you want, I’d even pull her hair out!”

“Shhh… quiet down, both of you,” Jeff hissed, his voice low and urgent, a frantic wave of his hand accompanying the command. “She might hear you. You know how sharp her hearing is; even from afar, she catches everything. She’s got some aswang blood in her, I swear.” His attempt at humor was thin, but it held a kernel of truth about Jean’s unnerving awareness.

“Hold on, Jeff… let me ask you something…” Alvin interjected, his curiosity piqued by Jeff’s ominous description. “Doesn’t she ever leave her room? Like, at all?”

“She does come out…” Jeff explained, a sigh escaping him, heavy with resignation. “When it’s time to eat, then she goes straight back to her lair once she’s done, like a creature retreating to its cave after feeding.”

“Aba! So she lives like a princess, that animal!” Jacqui exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief, echoing slightly in the vast hall, the very idea of such idleness galling to her.

“Are you talking about me?” A voice, chillingly familiar and laced with a predatory softness, drifted from directly behind them. Jeff’s blood ran cold. He spun around, a jolt of dread shooting through him. It was Jean. She stood framed in the grand doorway, having just arrived home from school, her uniform impeccably neat, her gaze sharp and intelligent, assessing them like specimens under a microscope. Jeff’s friends, especially Jacqui, visibly stiffened, their faces paling dramatically at the sudden, unexpected appearance of his stepsister, their previous bravado evaporating like morning dew.

“No. No, we weren’t talking about you,” Jeff quickly stammered, the lie feeling flimsy, transparent even to his own ears. He cursed his luck, his momentary lapse in vigilance.

“Really?” Jean retorted, one eyebrow arching in a perfect, disdainful arc, her eyes sweeping slowly, deliberately, over Jeff’s companions, a silent, disdainful appraisal that stripped them of their composure. “Then why is that one so pale?” she asked, her finger pointing directly at a now-ashen Jacqui. “Looks nervous.”

“So what if she’s pale? Can’t she just be feeling unwell?” Jeff shot back, the words a reflex, a desperate, futile attempt to defend his friend, to inject a semblance of normalcy into the abnormal situation. “I don’t know…” Jean sighed, a sound of utter indifference, a dismissive breath that spoke volumes of her contempt. Then, without another word, she turned and walked towards the grand staircase, her posture radiating disdain, each step a deliberate, amplified statement of her dismissal.

Jeff chose to ignore his stepsister’s typical rudeness, the familiar sting almost dulled by now, replaced by a dull ache of resignation. He forced a strained, brittle smile, trying to salvage some semblance of politeness as he attempted to introduce his friends to Jean’s retreating back. “Jean, I’d like to introduce you to Jacqui and Alvin. They’re my frien—”

“—I really don’t care who they are,” Jean interrupted, her voice cutting him off mid-sentence, devoid of warmth or curiosity, a brick wall to his attempts at civility. She paused on the first step, turning slightly, her eyes like chips of ice. “I just want to tell you two that it is absolutely forbidden to steal anything from our house. And if you’ve already taken something, please put it back.” The accusation hung heavy in the air, a vile, baseless insinuation.

A collective gasp escaped Jeff’s two friends, their faces a mixture of shock and outrage at Jean’s blatant, unprovoked attack. Jeff, however, fought a fierce, internal battle to keep his own rising fury in check, the quiet echo of his mother’s plea – don’t engage her – ringing in his ears like a solemn vow.

“They didn’t take anything, Jean. Actually, we just got here,” Jeff managed, his voice strained, every word a struggle, a desperate attempt to defend the innocent.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Jeff. So please, be quiet,” she snapped, her eyebrow arching imperiously as she looked at her stepbrother, a silent, chilling dare in her gaze. “And when you’re done touring our house, you can leave, okay? I want to rest.” With that, she turned fully and continued her ascent, each step an amplified statement of her disdain, her superiority.

Jeff was seething, a volcano of suppressed rage boiling within him, threatening to erupt. But he fiercely suppressed his anger, adhering to his mother’s desperate instruction, her unspoken fear for their precarious future. He simply looked at his friends, his eyes conveying a silent apology and a desperate dismissal he couldn’t vocalize to Jean. “It’s probably best if you just head home now. Go on, go out first, I’ll follow.”

Both Alvin and Jacqui, recognizing the tightrope Jeff walked, their awe of the mansion instantly replaced by a visceral desire to escape the suffocating hostility, quickly agreed. They made a hasty retreat towards the grand, ornate door, their footsteps quickening. Jean, meanwhile, paused halfway up the staircase, a silent, judgmental sentinel, watching their hurried departure with a fixed, cold stare. They rushed to exit, their escape almost complete, but just as they reached the threshold, their path was suddenly, unexpectedly, blocked by someone entering, casting a new, ominous shadow over their already fraught afternoon.

The harsh Iloilo sunlight, typically so relentless, softened for a moment, catching the entering figure in a brilliant halo. His fair complexion seemed to glow, and as he stepped into the grand hall, a deep, captivating dimple appeared on his cheek, etched by the effortless smile that graced his lips. He was the embodiment of a fresh, breezy morning in Western Visayas, a stark contrast to the stifling tension within the house.

Jean, who moments before had been a tempest of disdain, found herself utterly disarmed. It was as if love at first sight, a cliché she’d always scoffed at, had blindsided her. The bitter anger she’d harbored against Jeff and his friends simply vanished, replaced by an unfamiliar, exhilarating giddiness that made her head spin. Her carefully constructed world, so rigid and controlled, seemed to slow, then blur, as if caught in a cinematic dream sequence, the sounds of the bustling city outside fading into an ethereal hush. All that mattered was the sight of him entering, his polite greeting washing over her like a warm, unexpected wave.

“Good afternoon,” Riley said, his voice a rich baritone, warm and polite, a stark contrast to the acid tones that usually filled the house. His gaze, friendly and open, swept across the group. “Is Jeff here?”

“Good afternoon to you too,” she managed, her voice a little breathy, almost a whisper, her gaze still fixed on Riley. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, completely mesmerized. “May I know your name?”

A soft chuckle, charming and genuine, escaped him. “Sorry… my manners… hehe. I’m Riley… Riley Kristoffer Dechavez…” He quickly, almost unconsciously, wiped his right hand on the pristine fabric of his shirt – a casual, unthinking gesture that only added to his down-to-earth allure – before extending it towards Jean for a handshake. Jean, still caught in a daze, accepted his offer immediately, her fingers brushing against his, sending a strange, thrilling current through her. “What’s yours?”

“I’m… in… Heaven…” she answered, the words escaping her lips like a dreamy, faraway murmur, more confession than introduction. Her usual sharp wit and calculated demeanor had completely abandoned her.

Riley blinked, a hint of genuine confusion flickering in his bright eyes. “I’m sorry?”

“That’s Jean. You know her, right?” Jeff’s voice, startlingly normal, cut through Jean’s daze, pulling her back to the harsh reality of her surroundings. He had materialized from behind her, moving to stand casually beside Riley, a familiar ease in their proximity that Jean instantly, fiercely resented.

“Ahh. Yes… So you’re Jean,” Riley said, his smile broadening, radiating an easy charm that could disarm almost anyone. “So you’re Jeff’s half-sister. Am I right?”

“Hmmm. Oo eh,” Jean replied, a coy gesture as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her usual sharp edge replaced by an almost girlish flirtation she hadn’t known she possessed. “He told you about me, then? Ahmm… because you know my name, right?” Her voice took on a deliberate, almost purring tone, an unspoken invitation.

“Yup.” Riley’s answer was simple, direct, yet it seemed to carry a world of unspoken meaning to Jean’s infatuated mind.

“Really? Am I that interesting and beautiful that you two talk about me?” she pressed, angling her body slightly, her chest swelling with an eager, almost desperate need for validation.

Jeff had to visibly restrain himself, his jaw tightening as he bit back the laughter threatening to erupt. ‘Feeler talaga,’ he thought, the Filipino slang for ‘so full of herself’ echoing in his mind, a sharp, private jab at Jean’s inflated ego, a stark contrast to the vulnerable girl he saw before him, utterly smitten.

“Yes… he actually told me you’re beautiful, sexy, and a very kind sister…” Riley began, his eyes twinkling with mischievous amusement, a subtle, almost imperceptible hint of sarcasm underlying his words, audible only to Jeff. “And Jeff wasn’t lying… everything he said about you was true.” He glanced at Jeff, a shared secret passing between them, a silent challenge in his eyes.

Jeff subtly elbowed Riley, a firm, warning jab that he was sailing dangerously close to the wind, his over-the-top compliments for his stepsister bordering on outright parody. “That’s enough, babe. That witch’s head will get even bigger,” Jeff whispered, his lips barely moving, trying to keep his words from being obvious, a silent communication between them, an appeal for caution.

“It’s fine, babe. Just play along,” Riley whispered back, his own lips barely forming the words, his eyes still fixed on Jean’s rapt expression, clearly enjoying the unexpected turn of events. He was an artist, and Jean, unknowingly, his willing canvas.

To be continued…

Chapter 7 (Accusations and Hidden Truths)

The flush that spread across Jean’s cheeks and the pleased grin that touched her lips were undeniable. Riley’s words had struck a chord, igniting a spark of delight that seemed to make her face burn with a charming blush.

“Hehehe… Oh, you!” Jean giggled, playfully dismissing his compliment, though her eyes danced with a different truth. “It’s nothing, really… just a small thing.” She then extended a warm invitation, her gaze encompassing Riley and Jeff’s two companions who still lingered by the doorway. “By the way, why don’t you all take a seat?”

Jeff, ever the picture of gracious hospitality, immediately guided his three guests toward the comfortable expanse of the sofa. Jean, however, remained rooted to her spot, her gaze fixed on Riley. A palpable giddiness seemed to radiate from her, an invisible current that charged the air around them.

Jacqui, whose eyes missed nothing, leaned in conspiratorially toward Jeff. “Looks like the old witch has completely fallen for your Riley, huh?” she whispered, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes. “You’ve definitely got a rival now, bestie.”

Jeff leaned closer, his own voice dropping to a murmur. “Yeah, she has,” he agreed, a hint of surprise in his tone. “Turns out this one has a surprisingly wild side hiding beneath all that primness.”

Engrossed in their hushed commentary and the shared amusement that rippled between them, none of them noticed Jean’s quiet, almost imperceptible ascent to her room.

Jeff then playfully nudged Riley, a hint of accusation in his eyes. “And you, too, for that matter…”

Riley raised a questioning eyebrow. “Oh, me? What have I done?”

“You know she’s practically throwing herself at you, but you’re acting completely unfazed,” Jeff pointed out, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. Riley’s smile widened, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Of course, babe. I need to cultivate a certain ‘image’ for her, don’t I? As they say, ‘first impressions last’.” He then gestured grandly towards Jacqui and Alvin, his voice laced with amusement. “Unlike these two, who were immediately pegged as common thieves!” His laughter, rich and resonant, filled the air.

Jacqui’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. “Wait. You actually heard that?”

“Yup… I’ve been lurking just outside for a while now,” Riley confessed, his grin turning more sly. “Listening to your every juicy word… hehe.”

“And she didn’t see you?” Jeff questioned, his brow furrowed in genuine disbelief. “And you didn’t just come right in?”

“Nope… she arrived before me,” Riley explained, a subtle air of triumph about him. “I was just biding my time, waiting for the perfect moment to make an entrance. I had a strong feeling something… interesting… was about to unfold.”

“Your boyfriend is an absolute menace, bestie,” Jacqui declared, though a smile played on her lips, betraying her underlying amusement. “But seriously, Alvin and I were genuinely offended by what Jean said earlier. She truly takes the cake.”

“Oh, you don’t even know the half of it,” Jeff interjected, shaking his head. “That was just her warm-up act. Trust me.” Jacqui’s eyes widened even further. “Really? So she’s even worse when she’s in full-blown ‘beast mode’?”

“You bet your bottom dollar,” Jeff affirmed with a nod. “Wait, babe…” He turned his gaze to Riley, a question forming on his lips.

“Yes, babe?” Riley responded, his attention now fully on Jeff. “How in the world did you even find this house?”

“I simply followed you,” Riley clarified, a hint of playful innocence in his tone. “I saw you leaving your school. We were supposed to meet, weren’t we? I kept texting you, but you were completely unresponsive.”

“Oh, crap. Sorry, babe. It completely slipped my mind,” Jeff apologized, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “It was all their fault; they practically dragged me here, and I completely forgot about our plans.”

“It’s alright, babe. At least I’ve now seen your Dad’s house,” Riley said, pulling Jeff into a tight, reassuring embrace.

“Alright, that’s enough of that… your eyes are practically disappearing again, you know… hehe.”

“Oh, come on… we’re practically drowning in a sea of sweetness over here,” Jacqui exclaimed, feigning a look of utter disgust.

Just then, the doorbell chimed, a perfectly timed interruption. Jeff promptly opened the door to reveal his mother, who had just returned from her grocery run. He quickly opened the main gate, relieved her of her heavy bags, and respectfully kissed her hand in a gesture of filial piety.

As they entered the house, Jeff began the introductions.

“Oh, Mom, these are Jacqui and Alvin,” he announced, gesturing to his friends. “My closest pals.”

“Ahh… so you’re the crazy friends my son keeps telling me about,” Joyce teased, a warm, genuine smile gracing her lips.

“Hehehe… not too crazy, Tita. Hehe,” Jacqui replied, a blush creeping up her neck, her voice a little breathless. “Just a little… hehe.”

“Hehehe… well, you all make yourselves at home. I need to change and then I’ll start dinner,” Joyce said, excusing herself with a pleasant nod.

“Alright, Tita,” Jacqui and Alvin chorused obediently. Meanwhile, Jeff, ever the attentive son, trailed his mother into their room.

“Mom. What are you cooking?”

“I don’t even know the name, son,” Joyce confessed with a shrug. “Jean just asked me to buy the ingredients for it.”

“Really?? So it’s just for her, then??” Jeff’s voice held a note of disbelief.

“Yes, son.”

Jeff let out a dramatic sigh, his shoulders slumping in resignation as he turned away from his mother. “Fine, Mom. We’ll just eat out then.”

He rejoined his friends and Riley, who were clearly immersed in their own delightful conversation, their laughter echoing like a spring.

“What’s so funny?” Jeff asked, his curiosity piqued as he settled comfortably beside Riley. “Let me in on it…”

“Oh, no, bestie. You definitely don’t want to join this one,” Jacqui warned, a twinkle in her eye that hinted at mischief. “But why?”

“Just because…” Jacqui replied evasively, a playful smirk on her face.

“Seriously? That’s just like you,” Jeff grumbled, a feigned pout on his face. “Anyway, guys, how about we just eat out?”

“Why, babe?” Riley asked, his attention now fully on Jeff.

“Because there’s no food here for us,” Jeff explained, a hint of exasperation in his voice. “Jean practically dictated to Mom what to buy and cook just for her. So, yeah, that meal is exclusively hers.”

“Is that so?” Jacqui muttered, a hint of indignation creeping into her tone.

“Don’t even bother complaining. Let’s just eat out.”

And so, the four of them ventured out to the nearest fast-food chain. They ordered a colossal bucket of crispy fried chicken, six steaming cups of perfectly cooked rice, and four refreshing glasses of soft drinks.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, a symphony of shared laughter and easy camaraderie, particularly between Jeff and Alvin. They were in stitches, clearly relishing their shared anecdotes and the comfortable rhythm of their inside jokes.

“Jeff… remember back in high school?” Alvin prompted, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he recalled a distant memory.

“Which one?” Jeff asked, a smile already playing on his lips.

“When you slipped… at the school park’s hut,” Alvin recounted, a wide, triumphant grin spreading across his face.

“Ahh. Oh, yeah. I slipped twice that day. So incredibly embarrassing.”

“Hahaha. You certainly did. Good thing I was the only one who saw you then.” Alvin’s laughter, loud and boisterous, filled the air.

“Wait… where was I during all of this?” Jacqui interjected, her curiosity piqued.

“You were in the bathroom then. You really, really had to pee,” Alvin explained, chuckling.

“Ahh. Okay. I remember now, bestie. That’s why your eyes were still watering when we were back in the classroom.”

“Yeah, that’s why…” Jeff chimed in, a mock aggrieved expression on his face. “Alvin just laughed at me then. He didn’t even bother to help me. He’s so mean.”

“Hahaha. Of course. Who wouldn’t laugh when you slipped twice?” Alvin roared with laughter, relishing the memory.

“See? He’s so happy now,” Jeff deadpanned, feigning a wounded expression.

“Oh, the baby’s sulking now…” Alvin teased, slinging a playful arm around Jeff’s neck.

Riley remained conspicuously silent throughout the exchange, his body trembling almost imperceptibly. A sharp pang of jealousy had pierced him, leaving him uncertain of how to react to the easy, affectionate camaraderie between the two. He felt a tremor of something akin to fear, realizing the depth of his unexpected emotion.

Their meal concluded, and Alvin and Jacqui decided to head home, their laughter echoing as they departed. Riley, meanwhile, drove Jeff back to the grand house where he was temporarily residing, the quiet hum of the engine doing little to soothe the tension building between them.

“Finally. I’m stuffed,” Jeff announced, pushing open the ornate gate and stepping into the expansive yard. He turned, a casual invitation on his lips. “Oh, babe? Aren’t you coming in?”

“No, I won’t,” Riley’s voice was a cold blade, sharp and immediate, cutting through the comfortable evening air. Jeff froze, the casual smile dissolving from his face. The shift in Riley’s demeanor was palpable, a sudden, arctic chill replacing the warmth of their earlier intimacy. “Babe? Are you okay?” he asked, a knot of unease tightening in his stomach.

“Does it look like it?” Riley’s voice was a low growl, laced with venomous annoyance. His eyes, usually warm and expressive, were now glacial, fixed on Jeff with an intensity that made him recoil. “Does it look like I’m irritated by the person you were practically flirting with earlier?”

Jeff stared, bewildered. “Flirting? Who?” “Alvin… obviously!” Riley’s voice was a sudden, explosive accusation, cutting through the quiet like a whip.

“Why him? What exactly did we do earlier?” Jeff demanded, his confusion quickly morphing into defensive anger. The casual banter with Alvin had been just that—casual.

“Flirting, of course. What else could it be?” Riley’s words were spat out, each syllable loaded with contempt.

“Ha? We were just talking earlier. That’s already flirting?!” Jeff’s voice rose in disbelief, incredulity warring with a rising tide of fury.

“Jeffrey, for God’s sake, don’t play dumb!” Riley’s voice escalated, raw and ragged with suppressed rage. “You know exactly what I mean!”

“I’m sorry… I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jeff shot back, his own voice now loud, a prickle of indignant heat rising on his skin. This was unfair, a baseless accusation that felt like a deliberate attack.

“You really don’t know? Fine, I’ll enlighten you!” Riley’s chest heaved, a raw, ragged breath escaping his lips. “His hug. The way he practically clung to you. You two looked sickeningly sweet, and those lingering, suggestive glances he kept giving you… don’t even try to deny it!”

“Is that all this is about??” Jeff retorted, his voice now laced with exasperation and a sharp edge of anger. “Riley, come on! Alvin and I have been friends since forever! You have absolutely nothing to be jealous of, okay?” He tried to project an air of calm reason, but the effort felt futile against Riley’s escalating fury.

“Yes… you’re friends… so what if he secretly has feelings for you?” Riley’s voice was a low, dangerous growl, a venomous whisper that sent a shiver down Jeff’s spine.

“No! I assure you! He doesn’t! And can you please, for the love of God, stop being paranoid?!” Jeff’s frustration boiled over, his voice now a desperate plea amidst the rising storm.

“Ughh!! Don’t you see his eyes burning into you with malice?! Don’t you see his every move, practically seducing you?! Do you not see or even feel it?! Or do you know it and you’re just not avoiding him because you secretly want it too?!” Riley’s voice exploded into a furious, unhinged scream, each word a brutal, lacerating whip across Jeff’s soul. Jeff was stunned into absolute silence, the accusations stinging deeply, leaving him feeling utterly exposed, violated, and insulted beyond measure. “Oh, what?! Why can’t you answer?! I’m right, aren’t I?! You want it!”

“How dare you speak to me like that, Riley!” Jeff finally choked out, his voice raw with a fresh, stinging pain. The accusations were a direct assault on his character.

“It hurts because it’s true… because you’re a flirt… you absolute BASTARD!” Riley’s final word, a guttural roar, hung in the charged night air, a venomous, unredeemable echo.

“How dare you call me that! And this is all I have to say to you: I am not the kind of person you think I am! And above all, don’t you ever dare put malice between Alvin and me! We’re just friends, and you know that!” With that, Jeff, his own rage now a roaring inferno, slammed the heavy gate shut with a deafening thud, leaving Riley outside, his eyes still burning with a terrifying, uncontained fury. “Now get out of here. You’re late for your job. And I’m sure your precious Fred is just waiting for you there!”

“What?! Why is Fred even part of this conversation?!” Riley shrieked, his voice filled with a fresh wave of outrage and disbelief. “Do you think something’s going on between me and that person?! Do you?!”

“Why? Is there…?” Jeff countered, his voice low and laced with a deliberate, cold challenge, throwing the question back like a poisoned dart.

“Fine, live your life! Go to hell! I’m leaving!”

Riley spun around, his temper flaring like a raging bonfire, and stormed away from the house with brutal, angry strides, the harsh, scraping sound of his receding footsteps a violent drumbeat in the sudden, deafening silence. Just then, a shadow materialized from the doorway; Jean.

“I heard that… all of it. Your entire pathetic conversation and miserable fight,” Jean announced, a smug, triumphant expression plastered across her face, her eyes gleaming with a malicious, almost gleeful satisfaction. “So, it’s you and Riley, huh? Haaaayyy! How utterly pathetic… you sickening faggot! You deserve each other.”

Jeff immediately whirled around, his own fury reignited, his eyes blazing. He stormed towards Jean, his voice trembling with barely suppressed rage. “Really? You heard everything? Well, then, CONGRATS… you’re not deaf! Now get out of my sight!” he retorted, his voice dripping with venom, before storming back into the house, leaving Jean to revel in her cruel victory.

Jeff went straight to his bed, collapsing onto it with a weary groan, the emotional turmoil of the past few minutes a crushing weight on his chest. Just then, his mother, Joyce, entered the room, her presence a soft, comforting warmth that felt like a fragile hope in the aftermath of the storm.

“Son, you’re here,” she said, her voice soft and soothing as she sat gently beside him. Joyce stroked her son’s hair, her touch a tender balm to his frayed nerves. “Are you okay, son?”

“I’m okay, Mom,” Jeff mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow, a lie he couldn’t quite convince himself of.

“Are you sure?” Joyce pressed, a hint of concern, a quiet knowing, in her tone.

“Yes, Mom…” he insisted, his voice barely a whisper.

“I know you’re not okay,” Joyce’s voice was firm yet empathetic, a quiet certainty that cut through his denial. “I heard you two shouting outside. Every word.”

“Huh? Even you, Mom? You heard it? You’re just like my witch of a sister,” Jeff joked, a weak, almost forced smile playing on his lips, a desperate attempt to lighten the suffocating atmosphere. “Maybe you’re her real mother.”

“Jeff… I’m not joking. What was all that about?” Joyce’s voice held a gentle sternness, urging him, quietly but firmly, to open up.

He fell silent for a long moment, then slowly pushed himself up from his prone position, the weight of the confession heavy on his tongue. “It’s Riley, Mom. He’s jealous of Alvin.”

“Huh? Why would he be jealous?” Joyce’s brow furrowed in confusion, her gaze gentle but probing.

“I don’t even know, Mom. He knows we’ve just been friends since high school.” Jeff felt a surge of frustrated weariness as he reiterated what felt like a self-evident, unshakeable truth.

“Maybe there’s something to be jealous of…” Joyce mused, her gaze thoughtful, her words a subtle, unsettling tremor.

“What do you mean, Mom?” Jeff asked, his voice laced with a sudden, sharp curiosity, a flicker of unease igniting within him.

“You know, son. He wouldn’t react like that if he didn’t notice something between the two of you.” Joyce’s words hung in the air, a quiet revelation that struck a discordant note in Jeff’s mind.

“Ugh. There’s nothing, Mom. Alvin is just my friend.” Jeff felt a familiar, almost instinctual wave of denial wash over him, a desperate clinging to a comfortable reality.

“But have you asked Alvin what you are to him?” Joyce probed gently, her eyes searching his, a quiet challenge in her gaze.

“Hmmmm. No,” Jeff sighed, his gaze distant as he considered the question for the very first time. The realization was a quiet, unsettling tremor in his mind. “But I know Alvin only sees me as a friend.” He tried to convince himself, to solidify the fragile foundation of his belief.

“How can you be so sure?” Joyce’s voice was unwavering, a gentle insistence that chipped away at his conviction.

“Ahmmm… Just because, Mom. I just know.” Jeff’s answer was evasive, a flimsy shield against the uncomfortable truth, his certainty suddenly feeling less solid, more like a desperate hope. Joyce simply smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes, at her son’s transparent attempt at denial. “Alright. It’s up to you, Jeff. Just don’t brush off Riley’s jealousy, okay?” Her words were a quiet warning, a ripple in the calm surface of his thoughts.

“Okay, Mom…” Jeff murmured, his mind already drifting, pondering his mother’s unsettling words about Alvin. The seeds of doubt had been sown, taking root deep within his subconscious.

“Alright then… go to sleep.” Joyce said, rising from the bed and leaving him alone with his swirling, unsettled thoughts.

Monday dawned, a fresh week unfolding with the promise of new beginnings, though for Jeff, it felt more like the aftermath of a storm, leaving behind a lingering unease.

After their classes concluded, the trio of friends converged at their usual haunt, the internet shop, the familiar hum of computers a small comfort against the persistent throb of the recent argument. As they clicked and typed, immersed in the digital world, Jeff, his voice laced with residual frustration and a lingering sense of hurt, recounted the tumultuous events that had transpired between him and Riley on Friday night after they had parted ways. He needed to talk about it, to air the toxic air that had built up within him, to find some semblance of clarity.

“Wow… he’s really something else. He called you a ‘bastard’ straight to your face,” Jacqui exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief, her voice a mix of shock and genuine sympathy. “That must have really stung.”

“Yeah, it did. I was genuinely stunned when he said that to me.” Jeff’s voice was low, carrying the sharp, heavy weight of the insult, a raw wound in his memory.

“But why would he be jealous of Alvin? There’s absolutely nothing for him to be jealous of, right?” Jacqui added, glancing pointedly towards Alvin, who remained engrossed in the glowing screen of his computer, a subtle tension in his shoulders. “Right, Vin?”

“Huh??” Alvin mumbled, finally tearing his gaze from the screen, his face a mask of feigned innocence that didn’t quite convince. “Oh. Yeah. Nothing at all.” His answer was quick, almost too quick, a subtle tremor underlying the forced casualness.

“That’s exactly what I told him, but he still refused to believe me,” Jeff said, a note of exasperation in his voice, rubbing a tired hand over his face. The repetition of the argument, even in recounting it, was exhausting.

“Seriously? He’s truly something else,” Jacqui muttered, shaking her head in disbelief, her own anger simmering, a protective instinct rising for her friend.

“You know, bestie. When I get jealous, you never hear me say anything hurtful. But when it’s him… it’s just painful.” Jeff’s voice was laced with a deep, weary hurt, a raw admission of vulnerability that hung heavy in the air.

“Maybe he was just surprised, bestie,” Jacqui offered, her voice soft, attempting to offer a conciliatory perspective, though she knew, deep down, it rang hollow.

“Surprised? That’s quite the way to show it,” Alvin interjected, his voice tinged with indignation, a flicker of something unreadable, almost pained, in his eyes. “I wouldn’t even say that to you, and we’re friends… much less him, your boyfriend?”

Jeff was silent for a long moment, the implications of Alvin’s words settling over him like a heavy shroud. His gaze drifted to Alvin, the person Riley was so fiercely jealous of, the person who had just defended him with such vehemence. A fresh wave of suspicion, fueled by his mother’s earlier words, washed over him, a cold dread seeping into his bones. “Vin…?” he finally called, his voice barely a whisper, a tremor of an unspoken question in the air. Alvin immediately met his gaze, a subtle tension in his posture, a flicker of apprehension, almost fear, in his eyes. “Tell me the truth, Alvin. Is what Riley believes about you having feelings for me actually true?”

Alvin’s breath hitched, caught completely off guard by Jeff’s direct, piercing question. He stammered, his mind racing, desperately searching for a way out. He wasn’t ready. Not yet. He couldn’t reveal the truth, the raw, inconvenient truth, to his best friend. His heart pounded against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence.

“No… Riley’s suspicion about me is wrong… It’s all wrong… Why would you even ask that?” Alvin’s voice was a little too quick, a little too firm, a desperate plea for belief, betraying a subtle tremor beneath the forced calm.

“Nothing… I just asked if it was true,” Jeff replied, his gaze unwavering, searching Alvin’s eyes, trying to discern the truth from the careful facade. “So, he’s really wrong in his suspicion about us?”

“Yes… he’s wrong… completely, utterly wrong,” Alvin insisted, his voice now almost desperate in its denial, his eyes pleading for Jeff to believe him, to let this go, to escape the suffocating weight of the unspoken.

“So, what’s your plan regarding Riley?” Jacqui interjected, sensing the escalating tension and skillfully, almost desperately, steering the conversation away from the precipice, away from the truth that hung so precariously in the air.

“I don’t know. It’s just a small argument. I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Jeff said, his voice laced with a forced optimism, a desperate hope that felt increasingly fragile, like glass about to shatter.

“What if you’re not?” Jacqui’s question hung in the air, a stark, unwelcome possibility, a chilling premonition that pierced the fragile optimism.

“You’re so negative. We’ll definitely be fine because I love him,” Jeff asserted, his voice filled with a conviction that felt increasingly hollow, a defiant declaration against the storm clouds gathering on his emotional horizon.

Jacqui simply sighed, a silent acknowledgment of Jeff’s unwavering decision, even though her expression clearly conveyed her profound disagreement, her concern etched deep in her features. “Well… whatever you decide, bestie, we’re here for you,” Jacqui reminded her friend, her voice soft but resolute, a promise of unwavering, unwavering support, no matter what shattered pieces might be left.

Jacqui then looked at Alvin, a silent, pleading agony in her eyes, as if urging him, begging him, to finally confess the truth to Jeff. But Alvin merely offered her a faint, unreadable smile in response, his secret still tightly guarded, a ticking time bomb beneath the surface.

The tension between Jeff and Riley has escalated dramatically, leaving Jeff reeling from the intensity of his boyfriend’s jealousy and the brutal accusations. Adding to this, his mother’s cryptic words and Jacqui’s silent communication have sown a deep seed of doubt about Alvin’s true feelings. How do you think Jeff will cope with this crushing weight of doubt and the unraveling of his perception of his friendships and relationship?

Chapter 8 (Trust and Treachery)

The afternoon sun streamed into the quiet house, but Jeff, just back from school, found it strangely empty. His calls for his mother echoed unanswered as he searched their room and the kitchen. A soft, rhythmic splashing drew him to the backyard, where he finally spotted her, engaged in the familiar chore of hand-washing clothes. A small sense of relief washed over him as he approached.

“Mom, I’m home,” Jeff announced, dutifully performing the mano gesture, his hand lightly touching her knuckles to his forehead—a silent acknowledgment of respect.

Joyce, momentarily pausing her work, looked up. “Oh, have you eaten already? You might be hungry, right?” She gestured towards the house. “There’s food on the table; just help yourself.”

“It’s okay, I’ll eat later. I’m still full,” Jeff replied, his voice flat, a noticeable lack of his usual youthful enthusiasm.

“Son?” Joyce probed, her brow furrowing slightly, sensing the subtle shift in his demeanor.

“Yes?”

“How are things between you and Riley?”

Jeff sighed, the sound barely audible above the gentle sloshing of water. “I don’t know, Mom. We haven’t spoken in three days. Not since Friday night.” His voice held a hint of weariness, a quiet weight he seemed to carry.

“Ah, is that so?” Joyce nodded with understanding. “Just give Riley some time. You two will make up, I’m sure of it. He loves you, you know.”

“I hope so,” Jeff murmured, the words laced with a fragile uncertainty. “Oh, son. What’s wrong with you? Are you doubting his love for you?” Joyce’s tone was gentle but firm, a mother’s instinct picking up on her child’s unspoken anxieties.

“Not really. But it’s just that—”

“Don’t interrupt,” Joyce gently interjected, cutting him off before he could delve deeper into his troubled thoughts. Her gaze was kind, yet resolute. “What truly matters is that you both love each other.” Jeff offered a weak, tight-lipped smile in response, a silent acknowledgment of her words. “Alright, son. Go change in your room and get some rest.”

“Okay,” Jeff conceded, turning back towards the house. He entered the living room, the quiet hum of the air conditioner filling the space. He switched on the television, a familiar comfort in the stillness, and sank onto the sofa, hoping to find a brief escape from his turmoil. A drama unfolded on screen, a couple embroiled in a bitter argument over infidelity. Jeff found himself strangely drawn in, a ripple of empathy washing over him. He felt a surge of irritation at the “other woman,” her audacity seemingly outweighing the legal wife’s claim.

Meanwhile, outside Riley’s house, the air hung heavy with a different kind of tension. Riley sat deep in conversation with his friend, Fred, their voices low and intense, the weight of their words almost palpable.

“Why don’t you just call him?” Fred urged, his voice laced with genuine concern. “Maybe you should apologize. What you said really hurt him, you know.”

“But it’s his fault!” Riley countered, a stubborn edge to his voice, his arms crossed defensively. “He flirts with anyone, indiscriminately.”

“Hey, stop that,” Fred reprimanded, his tone firm, a slight frown creasing his brow. “You’re taking this too far.”

“But it’s true!” Riley insisted, doubling down on his accusation.

“How can you be so sure?” Fred’s voice was calm but held a challenging undertone.

“I just feel it. I see it in Alvin’s eyes—that raw desire for Jeff,” Riley asserted, conviction hardening his features. “And Jeff, well, he seemed to enjoy Alvin’s hugs a little too much.”

“Didn’t Jeff tell you they’re just friends?” Fred pressed, a flicker of disbelief in his eyes. “Don’t you believe him?”

“No,” Riley stated flatly, his jaw tight.

“No?” Fred repeated, the word hanging in the air. “So, you don’t trust him.”

Riley’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Huh? Why would you say that?”

“Didn’t you just say you don’t believe Jeff’s explanations?” Fred elaborated, his voice still calm but pointed, like a surgeon’s scalpel. “Doesn’t that mean you don’t trust him?”

“I love him, okay?” Riley retorted, a hint of desperation, almost a plea, in his voice.

“You know, Riley,” Fred began, his tone somber, a sudden shift in the atmosphere. “For a relationship to truly thrive, it’s not just about love. It needs trust, understanding, and mutual respect. And right now, you don’t seem to have any of those three.”

A sharp pang of hurt crossed Riley’s face, as if physically struck. “That hurts.”

“It’s the truth,” Fred replied, his gaze unwavering, compassionate but firm. “Be more sensitive, Riley. I feel for him. Don’t do to him what you did to me.” Fred’s voice cracked, and he lowered his head, quickly wiping away a tear that had escaped. “Sorry, I just remembered how you led me on back then.”

“Fred…” Riley began, his voice softening, a rare vulnerability in his tone.

“Yeah, I know. I know. You only ever saw me as a friend. Sorry again.” Fred pushed himself up from his seat, the subtle movement signaling his departure.

“Where are you going?” Riley asked, a touch of panic creeping into his voice, fearing abandonment.

“I’m going home. To sleep. Maybe the pain in my heart will finally subside.”

“Fred, please. We were having such a good conversation earlier. Don’t leave me now.” Riley’s voice was tinged with a desperate plea.

“There’s nothing left for us to discuss, Riley,” Fred said, walking towards the gate, his steps resolute. “Talk to him. Discuss your problems calmly. This won’t lead anywhere if you both let your pride get in the way.” With that, Fred turned, walked out the gate, and disappeared from view, leaving Riley alone with his troubled thoughts.

Meanwhile, lost in the captivating drama on television, Jeff hadn’t noticed he’d drifted off to sleep. His peaceful slumber on the sofa was abruptly shattered by a sharp, jarring kick to his foot.

“Wake up!” A familiar, exasperated voice cut through his grogginess, jarring him back to reality. “What are you doing on our sofa, and why is the TV on?” It was Jean, her voice sharp with indignation, a storm cloud brewing on her face. “Living the good life, huh? Prince Charming, indeed! Now, GET OUT!” Jeff, still reeling from the sudden assault and the shock of being woken, couldn’t form a coherent reply, his mind a hazy muddle. “Oh, what? Cat got your tongue?” Jean sneered.

“Why? Do I have to answer?” Jeff retorted, his voice still thick with sleep and annoyance. He pushed himself off the sofa and headed towards their room. “You didn’t even tell me you were coming.”

“You’re rude, you know that! Get out of our living room!” Jean fumed, her voice rising in pitch.

Jeff changed into more comfortable clothes and collapsed onto his mother’s bed, seeking solace. Just as he settled in, his phone vibrated, a persistent buzz. He picked it up, his gaze fixing on the caller ID: Riley. A fierce longing to answer warring with the sting of Riley’s recent actions, a fresh wave of hurt washing over him. In a decisive, almost defiant move, he ended the call, turned off his phone, and tucked it under his pillow, as if burying his unresolved feelings. He drifted off to sleep, the nagging pang of hunger from his skipped dinner a minor inconvenience compared to the ache in his heart.

The following morning, at the breakfast table, an uneasy quiet lingered in the air.

“Manang?” Jean called to Joyce, her tone deceptively sweet, casting a sidelong glance at Jeff, who was diligently helping his mother prepare their meal. He’d offered to help with breakfast, a small attempt to distract himself from the lingering sting of his argument with Riley.

“Yes, dear?” Joyce replied, her gaze warm and gentle.

“Hmmm… do you have any idea about your son’s true gender…? And what he and Kuya Riley really are?” Jean’s words were a carefully placed bomb, delivered with a smug, almost demonic grin. Jeff froze, his movements halted, his body tensing imperceptibly. He looked up at Jean, a silent question in his eyes.

“Yes, I know everything,” Joyce answered calmly, her voice steady, unyielding. “His gender and his relationship with Riley.”

“As I expected,” Jean mused, her smile widening into a triumphant smirk. “But does Daddy know about this yet?”

“Not yet. I haven’t told your Daddy about Jeff,” Joyce confirmed, her expression unreadable.

“Really…? So he still doesn’t know that his son is GAY?” Jean’s words hung in the air, sharp and pointed. Jeff remained impassive, continuing to prepare the food, his hands moving with practiced efficiency, his mind still replaying the painful events of Friday. “I wonder what Daddy’s reaction will be when he finds out his son is a ‘goddess’? We’ll find out when I spill the beans,” Jean threatened, a triumphant glint in her eyes, enjoying the perceived power she held. “Exciting, isn’t it?”

“Do whatever you want. I really don’t care, Jean,” Jeff replied, his voice flat, devoid of emotion, a shield against her words.

“Oh, I will. I’ll make sure Daddy gets angry at you and disowns you as his child. And I can also assure you that you won’t get… or should I say… ‘STEAL’ any inheritance from Daddy.” Jean’s voice was dripping with malice, a venomous promise.

Jeff simply smiled at her threat, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips, a glint of defiance in his eyes. “Do what you want. I’ll even help you if you like.” His calm dismissal only fueled Jean’s frustration.

By midday, the familiar hum of computers and hushed conversations filled the Internet Shop as the friends reconvened to tackle their homework. Jacqui, ever observant, noticed Jeff’s phone persistently vibrating, Riley’s name flashing across the screen.

“Bes, Riley’s calling,” Jacqui nudged Jeff, a worried frown on her face. “Why don’t you answer it?”

“Just ignore it. He’ll stop eventually,” Jeff mumbled, his gaze fixed on his screen. “Are you two still not okay?” Jacqui pressed, her voice gentle.

“Not yet,” Jeff admitted, a flicker of pain in his eyes.

“So what are you waiting for?” Jacqui asked, her voice rising slightly in exasperation. “Didn’t you say you love him?”

“Yes…”

“Well, there you go!” Jacqui exclaimed, gesturing emphatically. “Answer it. You won’t sort things out if you don’t talk.”

“I’m just not ready to talk to him yet,” Jeff confessed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “And I never said I forgave him… I just said I still love him.”

“Precisely my point,” Alvin interjected, chiming in, his voice thoughtful. “If you love him, you can forgive him for whatever he did to you, right? Like, for example, your mom and dad. Auntie Joyce still forgave your dad despite what he did to her… that’s true love.”

“Hold on. Why is that man part of our conversation? He’s not the topic, is he?” Jeff snapped, his annoyance palpable, his gaze flicking between his two friends. Jacqui and Alvin exchanged a quick, knowing glance, a silent acknowledgment of his discomfort.

“Oh, right,” Jacqui clarified, sensing his irritation, trying to diffuse the tension. “But I was just giving you an example. No big deal, okay?” Riley’s calls persisted, a relentless vibration. Jacqui saw his phone light up again. “Riley’s still calling… just answer it, bes,” Jacqui urged, her voice firm. And with a sigh, a reluctant acceptance of the inevitable, Jeff finally answered.

Riley: “Hello, babe?… Babe?!… Can you hear me?… I’m so sorry if I said anything hurtful… please, I’m really sorry for what I said to you.” His voice was a frantic rush of words, laced with desperation.

Jeff: “Okay.” His reply was clipped, emotionless.

Riley: “I’m sorry, okay? I was just surprised… are you still angry?”

Jeff: “You… if I called you flirty and a bitch… would that be okay with you?” His voice was cold, a cutting edge to each word.

Riley: “Of course not, babe… please, I’m so sorry?”

Jeff: “Okay.”

Riley: “I want to talk to you in person… can you meet now?”

Jeff: “Okay… Where?”

Riley: “Just at your house… I’m on my way now… Is that okay?”

Jeff: “Not okay.”

Riley: “Why not again, babe?” A hint of exasperation crept into Riley’s voice.

Jeff: “I’m not home right now. I’m at school.”

Riley: “Who are you with? Alvin?” The question hung in the air, a subtle accusation.

Jeff: “Yes… and Jacqui. Why? Are you getting jealous again?” Jeff’s voice was sharp, a challenge.

Riley: “No, babe… hmmm… I’ll just wait for you at your house… Okay?” His voice had a forced lightness, trying to regain control.

Jeff: “Okay.”

It was around six in the evening when Jeff finally arrived at his father’s house. The living room was quiet, and a sense of unease settled over him. He found Riley fast asleep in their room, curled up on the bed.

“Hi, son,” his mother greeted him softly as she entered the room, her presence a comforting anchor.

“Why is Riley sleeping here, Mom?” Jeff whispered, a mix of surprise and concern in his voice.

“He was sleepy earlier while waiting for you,” Joyce explained, her voice low. “I couldn’t leave him alone in the living room; I was worried about what Jean might do to him. He’s been waiting for you since around three in the afternoon.”

“Huh? Really? He told me earlier that he was just on his way here… that was around five, I think.” Jeff’s brow furrowed, a new layer of confusion settling in.

“I don’t know about him, son. He’s just been waiting for you,” Joyce shrugged, a hint of resignation in her tone.

“Okay… hmmm… can you leave me and Riley alone for a bit?” he pleaded with his mother, his voice a low murmur. “Don’t worry, Mom, we won’t do anything bad, hehe.” A small, nervous chuckle escaped him.

“Are you sure? Hehe.” Joyce teased, a knowing glint in her eyes.

“Yes, Mom, we just need to talk.” Jeff insisted, a slight flush rising to his cheeks.

“Hehe… alright, son, I’ll go.” Joyce smiled, understanding the need for private conversation, and quietly slipped out of the room.

Jeff offered a small, toothless smile, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. He gently roused the sleeping Riley, who slowly stirred and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Oh, babe… you’re here already…” Riley mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

“Yes, I’ve been here for a while, and you’ve been waiting for me for a while,” Jeff replied, his voice holding a subtle note of reproach. “Why didn’t you tell me when we were talking on the phone?”

“I just didn’t want you to worry about me, babe.” Riley’s voice was soft, a hurried explanation.

“What do you think now? Am I not worrying about you?” Jeff asked, his voice softening, a touch of pity for Riley’s perceived vulnerability. “That’s your problem, you always assume things about my actions…”

“I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry anymore,” Riley said, offering a small, hopeful smile, reaching out a hand.

Jeff exhaled slowly, a deep sigh of resignation, his anger melting away like ice in the sun. “Okay. I forgive you. You know that one smile from you, and my anger just melts away.”

“Hehe. Yay! Thanks, babe. I love you.” Riley’s face lit up, a joyous relief washing over him.

“I love you too, babe.” Jeff’s voice was warmer now, a genuine affection returning.

“Just promise me you’ll forgive me for saying those harsh things, okay?”

“Yes, yes. You’re so persistent,” Jeff chuckled, a playful exasperation in his tone. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Promise. Never again,” Riley declared, pulling Jeff into a tight, comforting embrace. “I missed you so, so much.”

“I missed you too.”

“Really?? Mwah!” Riley punctuated his words with a quick, soft kiss. “Then why didn’t you answer my calls?” he asked, still holding him close, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“I did answer, didn’t I?” Jeff retorted, a playful challenge in his voice.

“Yes, you did. But you made me wait,” Riley countered, his face alight with a mischievous grin.

“Are we going to argue again? Fine, if that’s what you want,” Jeff said, a feigned annoyance.

“Oh, there he goes again… my babe’s getting angry again… come here,” Riley cooed, pulling Jeff into an even tighter hug, as if to squeeze the last remnants of anger out of him. “Don’t be too stubborn, babe, it’s not good… okay?”

“Okay.”

“There he goes again… so brief when talking…” Riley teased.

“It’s because of you… you keep bringing it up even though it’s over…” Jeff mumbled, a smile now playing on his lips.

“I was just teasing you, hehe. That’s enough, your eyes are disappearing from smiling so much.”

“Hmmph…” Jeff playfully huffed, a happy sound.

“Hehe… mwah… mwah… mwaah… mwaaah!… You’re so good to kiss… You smell so nice. Like a baby,” Riley showered him with kisses, the words soft endearments.

“Babe, stop… someone’s knocking at the door…” Jeff whispered, a blush rising. “Come in!” The bedroom door opened, revealing only Joyce, a knowing smile on her face.

“Son, go eat…” Joyce invited them, her eyes twinkling. “Enough of your cuddling.”

“Mom, come on… haaisst… Yes, we’re coming.” Jeff groaned good-naturedly.

Riley stayed for dinner, joining Jeff, Jean, and Joyce at the dining table. The atmosphere, though initially tense, had settled into a fragile peace. Jean, however, still cast venomous glances at the couple, their affectionate displays clearly irking her, a storm brewing beneath her seemingly calm demeanor.

“How’s the food, Kuya Riley?” Jean suddenly asked, her voice sweet as honey, but with a sharp undertone.

“Hmmm… yummy. Adobo is my favorite,” he replied, truly savoring his meal, oblivious to the underlying tension.

“Really?… Food truly tastes better when it’s your favorite dish, doesn’t it?” Jean continued, her smile widening into a predatory grin. “It really whets your appetite…”

“Of course…” Riley agreed, still innocently enjoying his dinner.

“But sometimes it gets boring if you eat it all the time… it’s nice to look for SOMETHING ELSE…” Jean finished, her gaze, sharp as daggers, fixed on Jeff. The implication hung heavy in the air.

“Excuse me??” Riley interjected, his fork hovering mid-air, a flicker of irritation in his eyes.

“Another dish, I mean,” Jean clarified, her smile innocent, even as her eyes gleamed with malice. She took another spoonful of rice and viand, savoring the moment. Jeff, however, remained impassive, continuing to eat, his expression unreadable, a stone fortress against her barbs. “By the way, Jeff, Mommy called earlier. They’re coming home next Thursday.” Still, Jeff offered no response, his focus seemingly fixed on his plate, refusing to engage. “Haaay… I’m so excited. Especially about Daddy’s reaction when he finds out about you. And if I were you, you should start packing your bags, because you’re going back to where you really belong.” Her voice was a triumphant sneer.

“And why should I?” Jeff finally spoke, his voice surprisingly calm, almost a whisper, yet firm with defiance.

“Because I’m definitely going to tell Daddy so he can disown you as his child!” Jean declared, her voice rising in triumph.

“Oh, please! All talk,” Jeff scoffed, without even looking at Jean, his contempt clear in his tone.

“What? What did you say?” Jean’s face contorted in anger, her voice shrill.

“Why? Did I say anything? I don’t think so, did I?” Jeff retorted, a faint, mocking smile playing on his lips, leaving Jean fuming, her carefully crafted plan dissolving in the face of his unyielding composure.

To be continued…

What do you think will happen next, with Jean’s threats and Jeff’s surprising calm?

Chapter 9 (Lorena’s Fury)

It was just past six o’clock in the evening, the Iloilo City twilight painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. The lingering aroma of their shared dinner—perhaps a hearty batchoy or succulent grilled liempo—still clung to the air as Riley and Jeff, hand in hand, sought the quiet solace of their room, a brief respite from the day’s easy rhythm. Riley settled comfortably onto the soft bed, his back finding purchase against the cool headboard, while Jeff, seeking an intimate comfort, gently lowered his head onto Riley’s lap, his eyes drifting towards the ceiling. Riley’s gaze, soft and adoring, shifted to Jeff’s face. He noticed the slight furrow in Jeff’s brow, the distant quality in his eyes, fixed on the ceiling as if deciphering constellations only he could see. A quiet murmur escaped Riley’s lips. “Babe?” he whispered, his voice a gentle inquiry, a loving prod into Jeff’s thoughts.

Jeff stirred, a soft hum escaping him as his eyes finally met Riley’s. “Yes, babe?” His voice was a sleepy, contented rumble.

“What’s on your mind?” Riley asked, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on Jeff’s hair. “You seem to be in deep contemplation, lost in your own world.” A heavy, almost imperceptible sigh escaped Jeff’s lips, a subtle shift in the peaceful quiet. “I was just thinking about what Jean told me earlier, babe,” he admitted, his voice laced with a lingering concern. “What if he doesn’t accept me?”

A delicate crease appeared on Riley’s brow. “Who are we talking about now, love?” he asked, a touch of confusion mingling with the soft worry in his tone.

“William. My dad,” Jeff clarified, the name a soft echo in the quiet room. A tremor, barely perceptible, ran through his voice. “What if he disowns me, Riley?”

Riley’s brow furrowed more deeply, a flicker of irritation crossing his features before it softened. “Why are you still letting that worry you, Jeff? You told me you didn’t care about your dad. You said you were angry with him, remember?” There was a gentle chiding in his voice, an attempt to pull Jeff from the whirlpool of his anxieties.

“It’s just… I can’t help but worry,” Jeff confessed, a slow, deep breath filling his lungs. “He’s still my dad, after all, no matter what has happened between us. I just don’t want to be judged or, worse, publicly shamed and scolded for the choices I’ve made. You know how some people are, babe. They’re not exactly open-minded about this kind of lifestyle, especially here.” He gestured vaguely, encompassing the unspoken societal norms.

“But what if he does accept you?” Riley countered, a hopeful glint, like a distant star, appearing in his eyes. He tried to steer Jeff towards a more positive outcome.

“Then that would be wonderful,” Jeff mused, a small, tentative smile touching his lips. He then noticed Riley’s playful grin, a hint of mischief dancing in his lover’s eyes. “Oh, why that look? What’s so funny, babe?”

Riley chuckled softly, the sound like wind chimes. “Hehehe. Nothing, babe. You’re just incredibly cute when you’re stressed. It’s endearing.”

Jeff pushed himself up, his eyes now level with Riley’s, a flicker of mock exasperation on his face. “Babe, I’m serious.”

Riley’s grin persisted, a mischievous glint in his eyes, but then, with a swift, loving motion, he pulled Jeff closer, enveloping him in a tight, comforting hug. “Sorry, babe,” he murmured into Jeff’s shoulder. “Don’t dwell on what Jean said, okay? She probably just said that to get to you, to stir up some drama.”

“Okay, babe. I’ll try,” Jeff mumbled, leaning into the warmth of the embrace, finding solace there.

“What do you mean, ‘try’? Just do it!” Riley playfully broke away from the hug, his hands still on Jeff’s shoulders. He then stood up, pulling Jeff to his feet with a gentle tug. “Come on. Let’s go out for a bit. Fresh air, a change of scenery.”

“Why? Where are we going?” Jeff asked, his surprise evident, his mind still slightly clouded by his earlier worries.

“Just come along. I have a surprise for you,” Riley teased, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, the secret held close to his heart.

“What kind of surprise?” Jeff pressed, intrigue now outweighing his earlier anxieties.

“You’ll see!” Riley’s grin widened, a promise of something special.

Before they left, Riley quickly informed Jeff’s mother, Joyce, of their plans to step out for a few hours. Joyce, understanding their need for a break and seeing the warmth in Riley’s eyes, readily gave her consent, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

They stepped out into the still-warm evening, the hum of Iloilo City surrounding them. They hailed a taxi, their destination a mystery to Jeff. After a short ride through familiar streets that were now bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, they disembarked in a narrow, quieter alley, the sounds of the main thoroughfares receding into a gentle background hum. They walked a short distance, the air a little cooler here, until they reached a modest, unassuming house, its windows glowing with a soft, inviting light.

“Babe? Whose house is this?” Jeff asked, his voice tinged with curiosity, a slight frown of confusion creasing his brow.

“Our house, babe,” Riley replied, his smile widening, his eyes shining with a deep affection.

“Huh? Why are we here, babe?” Jeff’s surprise was palpable, his gaze sweeping over the humble facade.

“Why?” Riley’s voice was soft, almost a caress, as he took both of Jeff’s hands in his, his gaze warm and earnest. “I’m going to introduce you to my Mom.”

Jeff froze, his heart skipping a beat. His mind reeled, trying to process Riley’s words. Meeting Riley’s mother had been a silent dream, a hopeful whisper in his heart, a longing he hadn’t dared to voice aloud. “Babe… I don’t know how I’m supposed to react… I’m kind of nervous.” The words tumbled out, laced with a sudden, overwhelming mixture of excitement and apprehension. Riley’s smile was infinitely reassuring, a beacon in Jeff’s sudden surge of nerves. He gently lifted Jeff’s right hand, still clasped in his own, and kissed it deeply, a silent promise, a physical manifestation of his unwavering support. “Then don’t be,” he murmured, his voice a comforting balm. “I’ll be right here with you every step of the way when we go inside. Just don’t be nervous, okay?” He squeezed Jeff’s hands, a silent message of unwavering love and protection.

---

The gentle knock on the worn wooden door, three soft taps, was answered almost immediately. Standing in the soft, inviting glow of the threshold was a woman, her presence radiating warmth. Her complexion, a rich, sun-kissed brown, spoke of years spent under the Philippine sky, and though her face bore the gentle marks of time, her eyes held a profound, welcoming kindness. Plump and comforting, she radiated a maternal grace. She stepped back instantly, creating a generous, silent invitation for them to enter her modest, yet clearly loved, home. Her gaze, however, lingered on Jeff, a quiet, discerning look that held no judgment, only a deep, almost tangible warmth. A slow, genuine smile spread across her face, mirroring the quiet welcome in her eyes. Jeff, instinctively understanding the unspoken invitation, returned her smile, a shy yet heartfelt gesture that bridged the unfamiliarity between them.

“Oh, by the way, Ma,” Riley began, his voice brimming with a boyish excitement, the kind that bubbled up when sharing something truly precious. He gently guided Jeff forward, stepping fully into the cozy living area. “This is Jeff. The beloved person I’ve been telling you everything about,” he added, a hint of playful exaggeration in his tone.

Jeff, ever mindful of courtesy, offered a respectful nod of his head. “Good evening, Tita, and it’s truly a pleasure to meet you.” The woman’s smile deepened, crinkling the corners of her eyes. “Good evening to you too, Jeff. My son has truly filled my ears with tales of you. He says you’re a good and loving son to your own parents…” Her words carried the weight of genuine admiration.

Jeff chuckled, a touch of humble self-deprecation in his voice. “Not that much, po. But thank you for the compliment, Tita.”

“You’re very welcome, Jeff,” she replied, her voice as comforting and familiar as the soft hum of the ceiling fan.

“Oh, and babe,” Riley interjected, a playful glint dancing in his eyes as he gestured grandly towards his mother, “this is Mama Lorena, the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth.”

Lorena playfully rolled her eyes, a good-natured scoff escaping her lips that signaled years of enduring such affectionate teasing. “Sus… you’re just flattering me, ‘Rai-Rai’,” she chided, the nickname delivered with the easy familiarity of a lifetime.

Riley groaned dramatically, a theatrical sound of utter mortification. “Ma, come on… don’t embarrass me in front of my loved one… Ugh! Seriously, Ma!”

“What’s so wrong with that, Rai-Rai?” his mother countered, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “That’s what I’ve always called you, isn’t it?”

“It’s embarrassing in front of my beloved, you know,” Riley muttered, still feigning agony, though a faint smile played on his lips.

Jeff, who had been quietly observing the heartwarming exchange, now chimed in, a genuine, warm grin spreading across his face. “‘Rai-Rai’ is really your nickname? That’s quite cute, actually.”

“Yes, Jeff,” Lorena confirmed, her gaze softening on her son’s partner. “Please forgive me if I still baby Riley. He’s my only child, after all.”

“It’s perfectly fine, Tita. It is cute,” Jeff assured her, his smile unwavering, understanding the deep bond between mother and son.

Lorena’s attention then shifted, settling on the timeless rituals of Filipino hospitality. “Wait… have you two eaten yet?”

“Yes, Tita. We just finished,” Jeff replied, already anticipating the generous offering, his voice respectful. “We ate at our house before coming here.”

“Ah… is that so?” she mused, a hint of maternal disappointment that she couldn’t immediately offer them food, but ever resourceful. “Would you like to have a snack then? I’ll make you some juice.”

“No, thank you, Tita. We’re still quite full,” Jeff politely declined, his gratitude clear in his tone.

“Hmm… alright. I won’t force you,” she said, her smile returning, warm and understanding. Jeff reciprocated, feeling a deep sense of ease settling over him in her unassuming presence. “Please have a seat, Jeff. I apologize if our chairs aren’t soft. They’re just made of bamboo, you see…”

“It’s quite alright, Tita,” Jeff assured her, settling onto the sturdy, smooth bamboo chair. “Thank you. We’re actually used to sitting and even sleeping on harder surfaces anyway,” he hinted subtly, a quiet nod to his own family’s more modest circumstances.

“Ahh. That’s good then,” she responded, a new layer of understanding dawning in her eyes. She then called out, “Oh, Riley! Serve your guest here! Where are you, you child!” Riley’s playful disappearance into the bathroom had gone unnoticed in the comfortable flow of their conversation.

“Yes, Ma! Just a moment!” Riley’s voice echoed from what sounded like the small, tiled bathroom.

“Oh, my goodness… that child…” Lorena muttered good-naturedly, shaking her head with a fond exasperation. “Please bear with my son, okay? He’s really like that…” she confided to Jeff, a shared, conspiratorial twinkle in her eye. Lorena then turned her full attention back to Jeff, her expression growing more serious, a deep, thoughtful gaze settling upon her son’s partner. “Jeff?”

“Po?” Jeff responded, sensing the subtle, yet profound shift in her tone.

“Thank you, okay?” Her voice was softer now, tinged with a raw, unexpected emotion.

“Thank you for what, Tita?” Jeff asked, genuinely puzzled, his brow furrowing slightly.

“For loving my son.” As Lorena spoke the words, a dam seemed to break. Memories, likely of Riley’s past heartbreaks, the silent struggles she’d witnessed, flooded her mind, and suddenly, her eyes welled up, glistening as tears began to trace paths down her weathered cheeks. “You know… before you two met, he used to bring a lot of people here to the house. Different men whom he never introduced to me, and they just went straight to his room, no preamble, no conversation.”

“Really, po?… Wow,” Jeff murmured, genuinely surprised by the candid revelation.

“Yes… but I never asked him who he brought into his room.”

“Why didn’t you ask, Tita?” Jeff’s curiosity was piqued.

“To give my son some privacy… and I understood what it meant when they went straight to his room, right?” she said, a bittersweet wisdom in her voice, acknowledging the unspoken truths of a mother’s understanding.

“That’s true…” Jeff replied, a succinct answer as he processed her words, the weight of Riley’s past settling upon him.

“But that was then, okay… before you two met,” she gently reminded him, emphasizing the crucial distinction, the passage of time.

“I know that, Tita,” Jeff assured her, his voice tender, full of understanding. “Riley also told me about what he went through back then… and I understand.”

“Do you also know that you’re the only person he’s ever introduced to me?” Lorena’s voice caught, a small, tearful smile gracing her lips as she reached out, her hands gently enveloping Jeff’s. “YOU are the only one who changed my son’s behavior, Jeff. He’s become so responsible and so much more mature in his thinking now. And for that, I am truly, deeply grateful to you. I don’t know what your parents fed you to make you such a kind person. But they are truly lucky to have a son like you.” Her words were a torrent of heartfelt appreciation, a mother’s blessing.

“Thank you, Tita,” Jeff managed to reply, his own throat tightening with emotion, unsure what adequate words could convey the depth of his feelings in response to such a profound expression of gratitude.

“No, Jeff… THANK YOU,” she countered, her gaze unwavering, brimming with emotion. “May I hug you?”

“Yes, po… you may,” Jeff whispered, his voice thick with emotion, and in that powerful moment, Riley’s mother and Jeff embraced tightly, a comforting solace shared between them as Lorena’s tears continued to flow freely, a silent, eloquent testament to her profound gratitude and boundless love for her son, now reflected in the warmth of his partner.

Lorena finally broke the embrace, her hands reaching up to wipe the lingering tears from her cheeks, a faint smile replacing her emotional expression. “Let’s stop this drama now,” she said, a touch of her earlier lightness returning to her voice. “Oh, by the way, Jeff… if I may ask something else…”

“What is it, Tita?” Jeff asked, his curiosity returning, sensing another intriguing revelation.

“Are you pure Filipino?”

“Uhm… no, po,” Jeff replied, a slight frown of curiosity creasing his brow. “Why do you ask?”

“Your eyes are quite slanted, you see… so what’s your mix, Jeff? Chinese?”

“Yes, po… my father is pure Chinese.”

“Ahh… that explains it.” Lorena’s expression became distant for a moment, lost in thought.

“Why, Tita?” Jeff pressed, sensing there was more to her question than simple observation.

“Hmm… nothing, Jeff… I just remembered something, and I don’t know if I should tell you this. Even my son doesn’t know about it.” Lorena hesitated, a clear conflict warring in her eyes – the desire to confide, battling with the weight of an old secret.

“Go on, Tita… tell me,” Jeff coaxed playfully, leaning slightly forward, sensing a deeper, perhaps poignant, story. “I can keep a secret, you know.”

“Alright,” Lorena said, her voice softening as she made her decision, the secret too heavy to keep. “I just remembered the man I loved a long time ago.”

“Riley’s father?” Jeff ventured, a quick, intuitive guess.

“I loved him, but we never became a couple…” Lorena continued, her gaze distant, lost in the shadows of the past, without directly answering Jeff’s question, the unspoken pain evident in her voice. “And he got me pregnant, and when he found out… he just vanished like a bubble, disappeared without a trace.”

“That must have been so painful, Tita,” Jeff said, his voice filled with genuine sympathy, a shared understanding of abandonment resonating within him.

“Yes… it was truly painful, yet I still love him even now, despite what he did to me.” Her words held a profound, enduring sadness.

“So where is he now, Tita?” Jeff asked softly.

“Hmm… I heard he’s married now, has children, and returned to his hometown.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know because I never asked him where he was from… all that mattered to me back then was his love, nothing else, not his background or where he came from.”

“My father is like that too, Tita,” Jeff confessed, a raw, bitter edge entering his voice, a mirror to his own past pain.

“Why?” Lorena asked, her full attention now focused on him.

“Because he also left my mother and found a younger and sexier woman to marry,” Jeff answered, a flicker of lingering anger in his eyes when he spoke of his father, the wound still fresh. “They have children now, too.”

“Really?… That’s probably just how men are,” Lorena sighed, a weariness in her tone, a universal lament. “Treating us women like animals… getting us pregnant and then abandoning us…”

“Not all of them, Tita,” Jeff interjected, shaking his head, a fierce defense in his voice. “I’m sure there are good men out there who are loyal to their wives… maybe you and my mother were just unlucky because you ended up with womanizers and worthless men.”

“Hmm… you have a point, Jeff,” she conceded, a small, acknowledging smile playing on her lips, seeing the wisdom in his words. “If I may ask you again… are you still angry with your father?”

“I don’t know, Tita,” Jeff admitted, the honesty raw, a complex knot of emotions.

“I understand because I know exactly how you feel right now,” Lorena said, her voice filled with deep empathy, a shared burden of parental abandonment. “But it would be better if you learned to forgive because he’s still your father, after all.”

“Yes… my mother and my friends also told me the same thing,” he confessed, his gaze meeting hers, “But I am trying, Tita.”

“That’s better than nothing,” she affirmed, a gentle encouragement in her voice, accepting his effort.

“Yes, Tita. You’re right,” Jeff agreed, a faint hope for future healing rekindled within him.

Lorena extended her hand, her fingers gently stroking Jeff’s cheek, a gesture of profound affection, of acceptance, and of a nascent bond. “I’m happy to have met you, Jeff. Oh, by the way, what’s your full name?” Her question hung in the air, opening a new chapter in their unfolding connection.

“Jeffrey Alba-Dy po, Tita”

The quiet intimacy of the room shattered as Lorena, her face a mask of sudden, cold fury, abruptly rose. The casual warmth that had embraced them just moments before vanished, replaced by an invisible wall of ice. “Excuse me,” she announced, her voice strained, each word clipped and sharp, “I need to go prepare dinner.” Her retreat to the kitchen wasn’t a gentle exit but a sharp, cutting dismissal, leaving behind a silence so sudden and profound it felt like a physical blow.

A few moments later, Riley returned to the living room, a soft apology ready on his lips, oblivious to the abrupt shift in the atmosphere. He found Jeff sitting motionless, the earlier warmth in the room having evaporated, leaving a chilling void.

“Sorry, babe,” Riley began, a touch sheepish. “I just changed into my uniform for work later.”

“It’s okay, babe,” Jeff murmured, his voice flat, still dazed by the sudden transformation in Lorena.

“So, how was your chat with Mama?” Riley asked, his tone still light, innocent of the storm that had just passed.

“It was fine, babe,” Jeff replied, the words feeling brittle, a fragile attempt at normalcy. A persistent tremor of confusion lingered in his voice, a silent question he couldn’t yet articulate.

Suddenly, a voice, sharp as a cracked whip, lashed out from behind them, making both young men jump. Lorena stood there, a formidable presence, her eyes blazing with an unreadable fury that transformed her gentle features into something alien and terrifying. “It’s good that you’re here, Riley,” she declared, her voice devoid of its earlier warmth.

“Yes, Ma. I just finished changing,” Riley explained, a flicker of confusion crossing his face at his mother’s sudden, unsettling demeanor.

“Good,” she responded, her gaze hardening as she turned fully to her son, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “Now, take him outside. It’s getting late.” Her tone brooked no argument, a direct order that sliced through the air.

“But Ma, he’s not leaving unti—” Riley began, a desperate plea in his voice.

“—I said, take him outside,” she interrupted, her voice gaining a dangerous edge, a barely contained roar that made Riley flinch. Her eyes, filled with a sudden, chilling contempt, then fixed on Jeff. “Thank you for coming, Jeff. But I cannot accept you as my son’s boyfriend. I’m sorry, and goodnight.” Her words were delivered with a cold, absolute finality, each syllable a hammer blow. Without another glance, she spun on her heel and slammed the door to her room shut with a resounding thud that echoed through the stunned silence, a violent punctuation mark to her pronouncement.

Jeff and Riley were left gaping, rooted to the spot, their minds reeling from the sudden, dramatic shift in Lorena’s mood. “What did I do to her, babe?” Jeff whispered, his voice laced with disbelief, a desperate plea for understanding. “Our conversation was going so well just a moment ago.”

“I don’t know either, babe…” Riley admitted, a deep crease of worry etched between his brows, his own face a mask of bewilderment. “Maybe she just remembered some problem. Try to understand her.” His voice was strained, a forced optimism he didn’t feel.

“Okay, babe. I just hope your mom isn’t angry with me,” Jeff murmured, the words feeling heavy on his tongue.

“What are you talking about?” Riley exclaimed, attempting a brave front, though his forced smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “She’s not mad at you, no way. She loves you because she knows we love each other.” He put an arm around Jeff’s shoulder, the gesture meant to be comforting but feeling stiff, almost performative. “Come on. I’ll take you home, babe. It’s really late now, and I have work.” The urgency in his voice was undeniable, a desperate need to escape the suffocating weight of his mother’s sudden rejection.

Riley drove Jeff back to his father’s house, the silence in the car thick with unspoken questions and a lingering sense of shock. As Jeff stepped out of the car and walked towards the front door, he found Jean standing nearby, a sentinel of judgment. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, and one eyebrow was arched in a haughty, superior curve. She was clearly waiting, poised to strike.

“So… where have you been? And where’s Kuya Riley?” Jean interrogated, her voice dripping with a venomous sweetness, her tone already climbing.

“At their house… Why?” Jeff retorted, a weariness seeping into his voice, too tired to engage in her usual games.

“At this ungodly hour,” Jean sneered, her voice rising, growing sharper with each word. “Your mother actually lets you leave and go to their house just to fool around?” Her shrill tirade continued, a relentless assault of cutting remarks, but Jeff merely stood there, silent, enduring her biting words, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. “She really condones your GAYNESS, doesn’t she?… VERY GOOD MOTHER,” Jean clapped her hands together, the sound sharp and mocking, a sneer twisting her lips. “Just be careful, okay… you might get raped by addicts outside.” The thinly veiled concern was utterly transparent, a cruel jab meant to wound.

“Thank you for your concern, Jean… but I can take care of myself… and it’s only 9 p.m. Don’t be so overly dramatic.” Jeff’s voice was remarkably calm, though his jaw was tight.

“HAHA… and you actually took that seriously? OH. EM. GEE… You really feel like a girl, don’t you?” Jean scoffed, her laughter harsh and grating, but Jeff merely offered her a faint, knowing smile, a subtle defiance that spoke volumes, refusing to rise to her bait.

Without another word, Jeff simply ignored his sister’s continued taunts. He pushed open the front door, stepped inside the house, and headed straight for their room upstairs, leaving Jean fuming, her impotent rage sputtering by the door.

To be continued…

Chapter 10 (The Weight of a Secret)

The house was still, but the silence was a fragile thing, shattered by Riley’s booming “Ma!… Ma!!” that hammered against Lorena’s bedroom door.

Lorena shot upright in bed, her heart a frantic drum against her ribs. She flung the door open, her voice a furious whisper. “What is your problem?! Why are you making such a racket? I was already asleep!” Her eyes flicked towards the thin walls, imagining the neighbors stirring, judging. “It’s embarrassing, Riley, shouting like this at this hour!”

But Riley didn’t care about embarrassment. Her eyes, usually so gentle, blazed with a raw, almost desperate anger. “I don’t care what they say!” she screamed, her voice shaking with a tremor that spoke of barely contained fury. “All I want to know is what happened with Jeff earlier?! What was your problem with him??”

A cold mask of disdain settled over Lorena’s features. “Oh! Is that all this is about? He’s the sole reason you’re standing here, screaming at me, disrespecting me right now?” She stepped closer, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re humiliating your own mother because of him? It just proves I was right not to accept him. He’s a poison, a bad influence on you!”

Riley flinched as if physically struck, her anger momentarily overshadowed by a bewildered pain. “What bad influence are you even talking about, Mom? He loves me…”

A harsh, derisive laugh escaped Lorena’s lips, chilling the air. “Loves?? Oh, you think he loves you? You didn’t see what he did earlier… But of course, you were conveniently holed up in your room!” she snarled, sinking onto a nearby plastic chair, her gaze fixed on her daughter with an unnerving, almost predatory intensity.

“I was getting dressed, Mom!” Riley retorted, her voice cracking, a desperate edge to her words.

“Well! Because of that, you missed him insulting me, disrespecting me in my own home!” Lorena’s voice rose, laced with bitter accusation.

“But… he said you two were having a pleasant conversation earlier,” Riley stammered, confusion warring with a burgeoning dread in her eyes.

Lorena’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, a menacing glint in their depths. “Is that what he told you??” she spat, her voice a low, venomous growl. “Then he’s a liar, Riley. A manipulative, deceitful liar. He spoke back to me. He insulted me. He showed me no respect whatsoever.”

A tremor ran through Riley’s hand as she clenched her fists, her gaze dropping to the floor, unable to meet her mother’s accusations. “I don’t believe you, Mom,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, yet edged with a defiant certainty. “You’re just saying that because you hate him. Tell me the real reason. The true reason.”

“I told you the reason, Riley! He disrespected me. He disrespected your mother!” Lorena’s voice rose, edged with a desperate frustration, a hint of genuine hurt beneath the anger.

“The real reason, Mom,” Riley insisted, her head snapping up, her eyes pleading for honesty, for a truth beyond the accusations.

A profound, weary sigh escaped Lorena, deflating her fury into something akin to resignation, a deep-seated weariness. “Why don’t you believe me??” she murmured, her voice now a low, cutting whisper. “What has he fed you that you always take his side? Riley… it hurts. It truly hurts that you defend that man more than your own mother. You don’t love me anymore, do you?”

The dam broke. Tears welled in Riley’s eyes, hot and stinging, tracing paths down her flushed cheeks. “I love you, Mom,” she choked out, her voice thick with emotion, raw with conflicting loyalties. “But I love Jeff too.” Her gaze hardened, a devastating decision forming behind the pain, a look of profound sorrow mixed with resolve. “But please, don’t ask me to choose between the two of you. You’ll only get hurt.” With that final, heartbreaking declaration, Riley spun on her heel, leaving her mother alone in the dim light of the hallway, the echoes of their confrontation hanging heavy in the still air as she disappeared into the night.

---

Next morning.

The morning light was already a harsh, unforgiving glare as Riley finally stepped into the quiet gloom of their home, the echoes of his demanding night shift at the call center still ringing in his ears. It was well past ten, and the city outside was wide awake, but inside, a different kind of stillness, taut and expectant, hung in the air. His mother, Lorena, was a solitary figure on the bamboo sofa, her posture rigid, a silent sentinel who had clearly been waiting. Riley, his face a mask of exhaustion and grim resolve, offered no greeting, no acknowledgment, simply walking past her as if she were part of the furniture, heading directly for the sanctuary of his bedroom.

“Riley… we need to talk,” Lorena’s voice, usually soft, now cut through the silence, a sharp, unyielding command that stopped him dead in his tracks.

He didn’t even turn. “There’s nothing left for us to talk about, Ma,” he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion, a stark line drawn in the sand. “I’ve already made my decision.”

Lorena’s breath hitched, a sharp gasp of disbelief. “What’s your decision? To keep pursuing that relationship with him? That’s just utter foolishness, Riley!” Her words were laced with a desperate plea, a desperate judgment.

Riley finally turned, his hand on the doorknob, his weary eyes igniting with a defiant spark. “Yes. You’re right, because I love him… Call me a fool, then. Foolish or not, I love him.” With that, he stepped into his room, the door slamming shut with a resounding thud that vibrated through the quiet house, a harsh punctuation mark to their escalating war.

“Riley! Get back here!” Lorena shrieked, her voice cracking with a raw blend of fury and desperation. “I’m talking to you! Don’t you dare turn your back on me and shut that door! Is this what Jeff taught you? To disrespect your own mother?! Get out here!”

Her pleas, her commands, her rage—they all met the cold, unyielding silence of the closed door. Lorena stood there, trembling, helpless. All she could do was wait, her gaze fixed on that defiant barrier, willing it to open.

Six agonizing hours crawled by, each minute stretching into an eternity. The house remained hushed, save for Lorena’s restless movements, her silent vigil. Then, finally, the door to Riley’s room creaked open. But her relief was short-lived. He emerged, fully dressed, his movements purposeful, clearly on his way out again. “Where are you going?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, dread twisting in her gut.

“Where else, Ma? To Jeff…” His tone was devoid of apology, a stark statement of unwavering intent.

A raw sob tore from Lorena’s throat, a sound of profound anguish. “Don’t do this to me, son. Don’t you love me anymore? You’d choose that PERSON over your own mother?” Tears streamed down her face, a torrent of pain and betrayal.

Riley’s jaw clenched, a muscle twitching. “The PERSON you’re talking about is also the Person who accepted and loved me completely, without judgment or doubt… If you’re just going to stop me from loving him, it’s better if you just kill me.” He turned, attempting to walk away, but Lorena, with a desperate surge of strength, threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around him from behind, clinging to him as if her very life depended on his presence.

“Please, Rai-Rai… don’t leave me. Don’t be like the men who abandoned me before. You’re all I have left…” she sobbed into his back, her voice thick with anguish, her grip tightening.

“Ma…” Riley’s voice was rough with emotion as he turned back to face her, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You know how much I love you, right? But… I also love Jeff, because he’s the only person who accepted me for everything I did before.” He wiped the tears from his cheeks, his voice gaining a fierce, unwavering conviction. “He loved me, Ma! Truly! And you want me to leave him for just a small reason? I really can’t, Ma… I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Lorena was utterly silenced, the raw honesty of his words piercing through her heart like a cold blade. He was undeniably right. Only Jeff had seen past the wreckage, accepted him for all his flaws and his dark past, loved him so deeply, so unconditionally. A past so ugly, so fraught with regret, that even Riley himself struggled to forgive what he had done.

It had all begun years ago with his first serious relationship, a girlfriend he had deeply loved, dreamed of marrying, building a future with. But she had left for Dubai, chasing a job, chasing a dream. Riley had waited, year after year, clinging to hope, believing she would eventually return to him, to their life in Iloilo City. Until one devastating day, the news reached him: she had married another Filipino, also stationed in Dubai.

He couldn’t cope. The betrayal, the brutal shattering of his dreams, plunged him into a dark, self-destructive spiral. He drowned himself in alcohol every night, his life crumbling around him piece by agonizing piece.

Riley’s world grew even darker when he was 23. That’s when he first tasted illegal drugs, a desperate escape from the suffocating pain, and quickly spiraled into a debilitating addiction. His self-destructive path deepened as he also became addicted to sex, sleeping with anyone and everyone—men, women, even his mother’s partners. No one was off-limits in his desperate, destructive quest for oblivion, a desperate attempt to feel anything but the crushing weight of his past.

“And if you have nothing more to say, I’m leaving.” Riley’s voice was sharp, cutting through the heavy silence that had fallen between them. He didn’t wait for a response, didn’t spare another glance for his mother’s tear-streaked face. The door clicked shut behind him, a final, definitive period to their fractured conversation. His footsteps receded quickly, determined, heading straight for the only place he felt understood: the school where Jeff would be.

Lorena stood there, her own tears blurring the familiar contours of her living room. The silence that followed Riley’s departure was not empty, but filled with the suffocating weight of her unspoken truth. If only you knew, Riley. If only you knew my true reason. You would understand me, she whispered to the empty air, the words a bitter echo in the stillness. A secret, heavy and complicated, pressed against her heart, a secret she believed would make all the difference, yet one she couldn’t bring herself to reveal.

---

Riley sank onto the cold, hard bench at the school’s entrance, the late afternoon sun doing little to warm the chill seeping into his bones. He pulled out his phone, the glowing screen confirming what he already knew: 4:35 PM. Twenty more minutes until Jeff’s last class let out. Twenty agonizing minutes. Impatience, a familiar demon, began to gnaw at him. It had been a hellish morning, a brutal confrontation with his mother, and he desperately needed the comfort of Jeff’s presence.

Minutes stretched into an eternity. He couldn’t wait. His fingers flew across the keyboard, a text message dispatched into the digital ether: ‘Babe… gonna be long? I’m already here at the bench.’

Almost instantly, Jeff’s reply pinged back: ‘Malapit na babe, w8 lang’.

Riley scoffed, a dry, humorless sound. ‘You’re taking too long. I’ll just come to you. What’s your room?’

‘here at NV210 babe’, Jeff replied, a touch of amusement in the digital words.

‘ok.coming’, Riley typed back, his impatience overriding any lingering weariness.

He found Jeff’s classroom, NV210, just as the bell shrilled, signaling the end of the day. Students poured out, a vibrant river of chatter and laughter. Then he saw Jeff, emerging from the throng, his face lighting up. But Jeff’s smile faltered slightly as he took in Riley’s haggard appearance.

“Hello babe,” Jeff greeted him, Jacqui and Alvin, his usual companions, trailing behind him. Riley’s gaze, however, wasn’t on Jeff. It locked onto Alvin, a tense, silent staring match that seemed to stretch indefinitely, a raw nerve exposed. It was only Jeff’s voice, cutting through the sudden tension, that broke the spell. “Hey babe… are you okay?”

“Yeah, babe… I’m fine,” Riley clipped, his voice tighter than he intended.

“Are you sure? You look like you’re glaring,” Jeff pressed, his brow furrowing with concern.

“I said… I am fine… OKAY?” Riley snapped, the irritation bubbling over.

“Okay… you’re so rude…” Jeff mumbled, a wounded expression crossing his face.

“You’re just so persistent… ugh.” Riley ran a hand through his hair, exasperated.

“Okay…” Jeff simply replied, the single word heavy with unspoken hurt. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the classroom, his friends following, leaving Riley momentarily stunned.

“Babe!!” Riley called out, the sudden fear of Jeff pulling away spurring him into action. He quickly pushed through the remaining students, catching up to them in the bustling hallway.

“Oh, why?” Jeff asked, his tone still distant.

“Where are you going?”

“Probably going home. Why?”

“I thought we were going out. Don’t you want to?” Riley pressed, a hint of desperation in his voice.

“I do. But…” Jeff started, glancing at his friends.

“Then let’s go…” Riley invited him, his voice softening, a plea in his eyes. “I missed you.”

Jeff exchanged a quick, silent look with Jacqui and Alvin. They gave subtle nods of understanding, and Jeff turned back to Riley. “Okay.” He quickly bid his friends goodbye, and within minutes, he and Riley were heading for the mall, their destination a movie theater.

Inside the cool darkness of the cinema, Riley felt a sliver of the day’s tension begin to ease. His left arm draped protectively around Jeff’s shoulders, pulling him close, a silent embrace.

“Babe?” Jeff’s voice was a soft whisper, a tentative question in the dim light.

“Hm? What, babe?” Riley murmured, tightening his hold.

“What’s wrong?” Jeff asked, his voice laced with genuine concern. “You’ve been in a bad mood since you got here. Is it Alvin again?”

“No… it’s not Alvin.”

“Then who? Is it your Mom again, and what happened last night?”

Riley hesitated, a deep breath filling his lungs. “Yes.”

“What’s really your Mom’s problem, and why did her attitude towards me suddenly change, babe?” Jeff’s voice grew more insistent, a genuine confusion in his tone. Riley didn’t answer right away. He just looked into Jeff’s eyes, then reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers. “I want to be honest with you, Babe. No matter what happens, I still love you so much, and even if Mom doesn’t like you, I’ll fight for you until death.”

Jeff was silent, his mouth suddenly dry. He took a deep, shuddering breath, his gaze fixed on Riley. “So, your Mom doesn’t accept me?” he finally managed, his voice barely a whisper. Riley nodded, a painful affirmation. “But… why? We were talking so deeply last night. She even told me she approved of me as your partner. Then suddenly it all changed? I really don’t get your Mom.”

“She said… you disrespected her. Is that true, babe?” Riley asked, his eyes searching Jeff’s for any flicker of deceit.

“Disrespected? No way! We had a great conversation last night,” Jeff replied, genuinely baffled by Lorena’s claim. “Wait, did you two talk?”

“Yes, babe, we talked… but don’t worry, babe. I’ll talk to Mom again later. Who knows? Maybe I can change her mind later.”

A wave of relief washed over Jeff’s face. “Thanks, babe. Thank you so much.” He leaned in, pressing a soft, grateful kiss to Riley’s lips.

“Anything for you, babe. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Jeff whispered back, his voice thick with emotion.

After the movie, they left the mall, the day’s drama temporarily forgotten in the shared warmth of the cinema. Riley dropped Jeff off at his father’s house in Iloilo City, then, with another long night shift looming, he headed straight for work, the unresolved tension with his mother still a heavy weight in his heart.

The following morning, a pall hung over the usually bustling home. Riley, driven by a gnawing curiosity and an unspoken tension, returned from his early errands. The moment he stepped through the door, the scent of simmering stew, a familiar comfort, felt laced with an unsettling unease. He found his mother, Lorena, at the stove, her back rigid as she stirred the pot, a silent sentinel over their midday meal. Without preamble, Riley approached, his voice hushed, yet firm.

“Ma,” he began, the honorific a practiced habit, “what exactly is your problem with Jeff?” The question hung in the air, thick with unspoken accusations and unresolved emotions.

Lorena’s stirring ceased. Her shoulders, usually relaxed in the rhythm of domesticity, tensed further. Without turning, her voice, a low murmur, carried the weary indignation of a mother scorned. “Is that how you greet your Mama? After I’ve spent the entire day consumed with worry for you, ever since you just… left, and now you finally deign to return?” The words were not just a rebuke; they were a lament, echoing the deep-seated concern and unspoken disappointment that often characterize Filipino maternal affection – a love that can be both fiercely protective and subtly guilt-inducing.

“Please, Ma,” Riley countered, his own patience fraying, “don’t beat around the bush. Just answer my question.” The command in his voice was uncharacteristic, a sign of his desperation. In a culture where filial piety is paramount, such directness was a departure, a testament to the magnitude of the mystery surrounding Jeff.

Suddenly, with a sharp, almost violent gesture, Lorena flung the wooden ladle she was holding. It clattered against the tiled floor, the sound shattering the domestic quiet like a gunshot. She spun around, her eyes, usually soft and nurturing, now blazing with a raw, fierce emotion. “Do you truly wish to know the truth, Riley?” Her voice was a low growl, a challenge thrown into the expectant silence.

“YES..!!” Riley’s response was immediate, a desperate cry for clarity. But just as the word escaped his lips, the fire in Lorena’s eyes flickered, replaced by a deep-seated weariness. The sudden shift in his mother’s demeanor sent a shiver down Riley’s spine. Lorena bent slowly, retrieving the discarded ladle, her movements heavy with a hidden burden. She rinsed it under the faucet, the running water a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil bubbling beneath the surface. It was a deliberate, almost ritualistic act, as if washing away not just physical grime, but the stains of a painful past.

“Well? You threw the ladle, you asked if I wanted to know… I’ve been waiting…” Riley’s voice, now a frustrated whisper, pressed against his mother’s retreating form, his words carrying the unspoken weight of the delay.

Lorena turned back to the stove, her shoulders still hunched. “Never mind… I just… I can’t. I don’t want to see you hurt.” Her voice was barely audible, a fragile admission of her own fear and concern. In the intricate web of Filipino family dynamics, protecting loved ones from pain, even at the cost of honesty, is a deeply ingrained instinct.

“What is it, Ma? Please, I’m begging you,” Riley pleaded, his voice cracking, his desperation palpable. The intensity of his mother’s reticence only fueled Riley’s growing anxiety.

“No, I can’t. Just go get changed and try to rest,” his mother instructed, her voice regaining a semblance of authority, attempting to reassert the maternal control she felt slipping away. “I’ll wake you when lunch is ready.” It was a futile attempt to impose normalcy, to push the troubling questions away with the mundane rhythms of daily life.

“PUCHA NAMAN OH!!” The expletive, raw and unrestrained, burst from Riley, a stark contrast to his usual respectful demeanor. It was a cry of pure frustration, born from the suffocating secrecy.

Lorena’s head snapped up, her eyes flashing. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that! I am your mother!” The retort was sharp, a testament to the unwavering reverence expected of children in Filipino households, even in moments of extreme emotional duress.

“You’re not telling me the truth!” Riley retorted, his voice rising, “It’s like you’re deliberately drawing this out, Ma! Just tell me, so we can stop this fighting!” The accusation hung heavy, highlighting the breach of trust that the unspoken secret had created between them.

Lorena finally turned, her shoulders slumping as if under an unbearable weight. His face was etched with a profound sorrow, and her eyes, brimming with unshed tears, locked onto Riley’s. Her voice, when it came, was a barely audible whisper, yet it resonated with the force of a bomb detonating in the quiet room. “I can’t, because he’s your brother!”

The words hung in the air, a devastating revelation that shattered Riley’s world. As the truth sank in, a wave of shock, confusion, and a profound sense of betrayal washed over him. Tears, hot and uncontrollable, streamed down his face, blurring the familiar contours of his mother’s face, blurring the very foundation of his understanding of his family and his own identity. The carefully constructed facade of their lives had crumbled, revealing a secret that would forever alter the course of their future.

To be continued…

Chapter 11 (Monthsary Gift)

The humid air felt impossibly heavy, each breath a struggle against the suffocating weight of a truth that had just ripped Riley’s world apart. His vision swam, not just from the blinding rush of tears, but from the dizzying, nauseating sensation of reality dissolving beneath his feet. Jeff. His Jeff. His beloved, his anchor, the man who had looked into the deepest, most guarded corners of his soul and loved him without question, was his brother. The word echoed in the empty chambers of his mind, a monstrous, discordant clang that threatened to shatter what little remained of him. “Impossible…” The sound was a ghost, a raw, broken whisper barely escaping lungs that suddenly felt too small to hold the crushing grief.

Lorena, his mother, a figure of profound despair, crumpled at Riley’s feet. Her sobs, raw and guttural, intertwined with his own silent, tearing torment as she desperately clung to his legs, a flimsy lifeline in a suddenly bottomless ocean of despair. “My child,” Lorena choked out, her voice thick with tears, “forgive me. Please, forgive me. I should have told you. I never meant for this… this agony.”

Riley’s head thrashed back and forth, a furious, desperate denial of the words that had just irrevocably twisted his life into an unrecognizable knot. “No! You’re just playing a cruel, twisted joke, Mom! You’re only saying this to tear us apart, to rip away the only happiness I’ve ever known!”

“What I told you is true,” Lorena insisted, her voice raspy with emotion, her grip tightening on Riley’s trembling legs as if she could physically hold him to this devastating reality. “Please, Rai-Rai, you have to believe me. This isn’t a lie. I swear to you, it’s not.”

“You’re so incredibly, unbelievably unfair, Mom!” Riley’s voice rose, a thin, sharp wail of pure, unadulterated pain. “You just can’t bear to see me happy, can you? So you weave these monstrous, vile stories to destroy everything that matters to me!”

“Forgive me, my child, but I am not fabricating anything,” Lorena pleaded, her eyes mirroring Riley’s profound agony, brimming with a sorrow that matched his own. “I swear, I only just discovered this myself, just learned that you two were siblings when Jeff and I finally spoke.” The revelation, delivered with such pained sincerity, offered no solace, only deeper despair.

Tears, hot and relentless, carved searing paths down Riley’s pale cheeks. His body, from the tips of his numb fingers to the soles of his suddenly leaden feet, trembled uncontrollably, a tremor that began deep within his shattered soul. “I don’t know what to do, Mom,” he whispered, his voice a broken thing, splintering with every syllable. “This feeling… this unbearable ache… it’s like a scream caught in my throat, a desperate urge to run until I collapse, until my lungs burn out, to just explode into a million pieces because of this overwhelming pain. It hurts, Mom, it hurts so much because I love Jeffrey. What you’re saying… it’s utterly, impossibly cruel!”

“I know you truly love him, my child,” Lorena conceded, her voice a balm of shared sorrow that could offer no healing. “And for that, I am truly, truly sorry. But you both have to stop this… your love for each other. It’s wrong,” she implored, her voice breaking, the word ‘wrong’ a crushing weight. “It’s profoundly wrong, and Jeff needs to know this too. He has to know.”

“No!” Riley cried, a primal, guttural rejection of the bitter truth. He shook his head with the desperate, unreasoning defiance of a child whose most cherished possession, whose very heart, had been brutally snatched away. “It can’t be. He mustn’t know this! I can’t bear for him to know!”

“But Riley…” Lorena began, her voice a desperate, pleading whisper, a mother’s agony laid bare.

“No, Mom, he can’t!” Riley roared, an unfamiliar, raw fury in his voice, fueled by a grief so profound it twisted into rage. “Jeff and I love each other, and no one, no one, can stop us! Not even this!”

“My God!” Lorena shrieked, her own carefully contained anguish finally erupting into a furious, heartbroken scream. “You and Jeff are siblings! What you’re doing is wrong! It’s utterly, undeniably IMMORAL!” The word hung in the air, a stark, damning judgment that echoed the chaos within Riley’s mind.

“Why?” Riley shot back, his gaze piercing, his pain twisting into a sharp, retaliatory anger that sought to wound as he was wounded. “Wasn’t what you did back then immoral? Selling yourself, selling pleasure to different men…?” The accusation, hurled with the brutal force of years of unspoken resentment and present despair, hung heavy in the stifling air. Lorena gasped, a sharp, choked sound, then her hand flew up, striking Riley’s cheek with a resounding slap that echoed in the quiet room, a physical manifestation of their shared, unbearable pain.

“I am not the issue here, Riley!” Lorena screamed, her face contorted with a fury that mirrored Riley’s own, a fury born of helplessness. “It’s you and your half-brother, Jeff! If you truly love Jeff, if you truly care for him, then you will tell him the whole truth. It’s the only way to spare him from even greater, unimaginable pain later!”

“I won’t,” Riley stated, his voice a chilling, unyielding stone, devoid of all warmth. “And do you honestly believe, Mom, that he won’t be utterly destroyed when he finds out we’re half-siblings? Do you truly think that revelation will bring him anything but the most profound, crushing pain?”

“But—” Lorena began, her voice a ragged sigh of utter desperation, her arguments dissolving into the abyss of his grief.

“Please, Mom!” Riley shrieked, cutting her off with a furious, dismissive wave of his hand. “I said I don’t want to tell him. That’s it! That’s FINAL!” And with that final, defiant shout, a raw, broken sound that echoed the shattering of his world, he spun on his heel and stumbled into his room, leaving Lorena alone in the oppressive, ringing silence, the unbearable weight of their shattered lives pressing down on her, a monument to their shared, enduring sorrow.

---

On a mundane Monday morning, the typical school-day hum provided the backdrop for Jacqui and Jeff’s conversation. Perched on their usual bench, a comfortable silence settled between the friends until Jacqui, with a playful glint in her eye, shattered the quiet.

“Hey, bes,” she began, a hint of a smile playing on her lips, “when’s your monthsary with Riley again?”

Jeff, usually quick-witted, let out a weary sigh. “Tomorrow,” he mumbled, almost to himself, the word heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Jacqui’s eyebrows shot up. “Already? Seriously? So, what grand plans have you two cooked up for the big day?” Her tone was light, teasing, but beneath it lay genuine curiosity.

Jeff’s response, however, was a shrug, a gesture of helplessness. “I don’t even know, Jack.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Jacqui pressed, her brow furrowing in concern. “No plans at all?”

He shifted uncomfortably, picking at a loose thread on his worn jeans. “I honestly don’t know. It always comes down to him. He’s the one who always plans everything, and he always pays for it too.”

Jacqui’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Wow. Really? You should really chip in with the expenses. That’s incredibly unfair to him, don’t you think?”

“I tell him that constantly,” Jeff countered, a defensive edge creeping into his voice, “but he refuses. He’s just insistent on always covering the costs.”

“Is that so?” Jacqui mused, a thoughtful expression replacing her earlier surprise. “Hmm. Well, then, why don’t you surprise him with a gift this time?” A spark of an idea ignited in her eyes. “This could be the perfect moment for you to finally treat him, right?”

Jeff considered the notion, a flicker of hope in his gaze. “Maybe… but what would I even get him?”

Jacqui threw her hands up in exasperation. “I have no idea, that’s your problem! You need to figure out what he’d like. He’s not my boyfriend, you know.”

“Oh, come on!” Jeff groaned, a wry smile spreading across his face. “You make a brilliant suggestion and then leave me with a complete riddle!”

“It’s just that it won’t be as special if I think of it, bes,” Jacqui explained patiently, her voice softening. “It’ll be much sweeter and more meaningful if it comes directly from you, don’t you agree?” “Hmph! Fine. I’ll think about it,” Jeff conceded, already beginning to ponder the impossible task.

As the final bell chimed, marking the end of another school day, Jeff found himself trailing after Jacqui and another friend, their destination the bustling mall. He had, with a touch of embarrassment, confessed his predicament and enlisted their help in his quest for the perfect monthsary gift.

They navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the mall for what felt like an eternity, an hour ticking by without a single promising find. Jacqui, ever the pragmatist, finally broke the silence.

“We’ve been circling for ages,” she observed, a hint of weariness in her voice. “Have you actually found anything yet?”

“Not really,” Jeff confessed, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “I honestly don’t know what he likes. I saw a wallet and a bag earlier, but I’m not sure if they’d be right for him.”

“And why’s that?”

“He just bought a new wallet, and he’s not really the type to carry a bag,” he explained, a flicker of defeat in his eyes.

“Ah, I see,” Jacqui said, her voice softening with understanding. “So, what’s the plan then?”

“I don’t know, Jack. Maybe I’ll just skip the gift altogether.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Jacqui exclaimed, her patience finally wearing thin. “Then why did you drag us all the way here in the first place?”

“Good question,” Jeff mumbled, his gaze fixed on some distant point.

“To help you, obviously! And you’re the one who practically begged us to come along!” she reminded him, a playful nudge to his arm.

“Oh, right. Sorry. I completely forgot,” Jeff replied sheepishly.

“You really are something else,” Jacqui sighed, but a small smile played on her lips. “Listen to me: What’s something he would absolutely not expect from you?”

Jeff’s brow furrowed in concentration. He thought, and thought, and thought some more, but his mind remained stubbornly, frustratingly blank. “What could it be? Hmmm. I genuinely have no idea.”

“What do you mean, you have no idea?” Jacqui prodded, her voice firm. “Come on, cooperate! Think about it carefully!”

“There’s really nothing. Seriously. My brain is completely fried right now.”

“Wow. Really?” Jacqui said, shaking her head. “Alright, let’s take a break. My feet are starting to protest from all this walking.”

They found a mercifully vacant spot in the bustling food court, sinking onto the chairs with a collective sigh of relief. Jacqui settled in, then gestured for Jeff to continue his mental struggle.

“Okay,” Jacqui began, “let’s rest here for a bit… and you,” she pointed at Jeff, her expression unwavering, “you better start thinking hard while you’re resting.”

“You’re so demanding,” Jeff grumbled, rubbing his temples. “I’m tired too, you know.”

“We are not leaving this spot until you’ve come up with a gift for him,” Jacqui declared, her voice leaving no room for argument, a silent challenge in her gaze. “Wow. You’re so strict,” Jeff complained, his voice laced with mock pain. “My head already hurts.”

“Just stop complaining,” Jacqui said, her voice softening slightly, a hint of encouragement in her tone. “YOU CAN DO IT!”

Jeff fell silent then, his gaze distant, his mind already plunging into the depths of thought. ‘Hmmm. What kind of gift would truly surprise Riley?’ he wondered, the question echoing, insistent and unyielding, in the quiet corners of his mind.

Under the soft glow of the mall lights, the memory of October 3, 2008, a Friday, played out vividly in Jeff’s mind. It was the day everything shifted, the day they became official.

He remembered seeing Riley approach, a figure bathed in the soft glow of the mall lights. Riley was wearing a simple lavender t-shirt and jeans, and Jeff’s gaze was drawn to his face, a captivating smile that highlighted the charming depth of his dimple. As Riley walked towards him, the world around Jeff seemed to slow, the usual mall chatter fading into a distant hum. He felt a strange lightness, an inability to move, as if time itself had paused just for them.

“Hi…” Riley’s voice was a gentle melody that cut through Jeff’s daze. “Are you Jeff?”

“Yup. I am. Nice to meet you. Riley? Right?” Jeff managed, a surprising tremor in his voice.

“Yup,” Riley confirmed, his eyes sparkling with a friendly warmth. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Not yet, but I’m still full,” Jeff admitted, a blush creeping up his neck. He’d been too nervous to even think about food.

“Is that so? Uhm. Do you want to walk around the mall first?” Riley suggested, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

“Sure…” Jeff started, then hesitated, a sudden concern washing over him. “Are you? You might get tired, you know.”

Riley chuckled softly, a sound that sent a pleasant shiver down Jeff’s spine. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Jeff returned the smile, a delightful flutter in his chest. “I’m fine. Don’t worry,” he repeated, the giddiness bubbling up inside him.

“Alright, let’s go,” Riley invited, his hand gently finding its way to Jeff’s back, a warm current passing between them. “You’re actually cuter in person, Jeff.” Jeff’s heart swelled at the unexpected compliment. “Thanks. You are too. You look like a celebrity.” He couldn’t help but return the flattery.

Riley feigned a modest shrug, a charming pretense. “Really? Not really.”

“Ohh… looks like he likes being praised too,” Jeff teased, a playful glint in his own eyes.

“Not really. Maybe I’m just humble,” Riley retorted, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, betraying his amusement.

“Wehh??” Jeff scoffed playfully, his laughter ringing out, unrestrained and genuine, as Riley stared at him, amusement dancing in his gaze.

“You have such a cute laugh, your slanted eyes disappear,” Riley observed, his voice soft, a tender observation that made Jeff’s cheeks flush even more.

“Cute? You’re the cute one,” Jeff countered, shaking his head, a playful disagreement.

“Oh, okay. We’re both cute. I love you,” Riley declared, his voice filled with an unexpected tenderness that took Jeff’s breath away.

“I love you too,” Jeff whispered back, the words feeling utterly right, perfectly aligned with the beat of his heart, as they walked side-by-side through the bustling mall, their hands finding each other, fingers intertwining, a silent pact of their burgeoning affection.

“So, we’re really together now?” Riley asked, his thumb gently stroking Jeff’s hand, a question that sought to solidify their new reality.

“Ha? I thought we were together yesterday?” Jeff replied, a quizzical look on his face, feigning confusion.

“Yes. But it’s better if we become a couple when we meet in personal, right?” Riley explained, his gaze earnest, seeking to imbue their union with a special significance. “Like this…”

“Why?” Jeff pressed, genuinely curious about Riley’s reasoning.

“To make our first day as a couple more memorable,” Riley affirmed, his eyes gleaming with the thoughtfulness of his intention.

After a leisurely stroll through the mall, their appetites finally caught up with them. They decided to eat, joining the lively queue at a popular fast-food chain. The aroma of fried food filled the air, a comforting scent on their first official date.

“Babe, I’ll handle this,” Riley said, his voice firm but gentle, taking charge. “Just find an empty seat inside. What do you want?” “Hmm. Just the fried chicken, babe. The spicy one, okay?” Jeff replied, his stomach rumbling in anticipation of the flavorful meal.

“Okay,” Riley smiled, a charming, almost cute expression that made Jeff’s heart flutter, a subtle acknowledgment of their playful dynamic.

Jeff returned the smile, a hint of playful defiance in his eyes. “I’ll pay you back later when we’re done eating,” he hinted, ever the considerate partner, not wanting to impose.

“Pay? This is my treat for you,” Riley dismissed, a dismissive wave of his hand, a clear signal that he was taking care of their meal.

“But…” Jeff started to protest, still wanting to contribute.

“Haist. No more complaints. Okay? Go find an empty seat there,” Riley commanded, a touch of mock sternness in his tone, but his eyes twinkled with affection.

“Hmp. Fine. Whatever you say,” Jeff conceded, a grin spreading across his face, recognizing the futility of arguing with Riley’s generosity.

“I love you,” Riley murmured, almost inaudible amidst the cheerful chatter of the restaurant, a private declaration of affection. But Jeff heard it, and with a silent ‘I Love You Too’ mouthed back, he went to find them a table, a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the spicy chicken he was about to enjoy. It was the warmth of a new beginning, a love story unfolding.

Jeff settled into an available seat, his gaze sweeping the bustling food court in anticipation of Riley’s return. It wasn’t long before he appeared, navigating the crowd with a tray laden with their lunch: a classic spaghetti and soft drink combo for him, and for Jeff, a spicy fried chicken with his own accompanying soda.

“Let’s eat, babe,” Riley chirped, his voice a melody of hunger, “I’m starving.”

A comfortable sigh escaped Jeff. “Me too, actually.”

Riley’s brow furrowed playfully. “But you said you were still full a while ago?”

Jeff chuckled. “That was then. All that walking around really took it out of me.”

“Ah, I see.” His eyes, full of a gentle curiosity, traced the contours of Jeff’s face as Jeff began to eat. Riley noticed the slight shift in Jeff’s expression, a hint of self-consciousness.

“What?” Jeff asked, a piece of chicken halfway to his mouth. “Do I eat badly?”

Riley’s smile widened. “No, silly. I was just watching you. You’re really so cute.”

Jeff scoffed good-naturedly. “Cute? No way. I’m ugly, and I’m the ugliest among all my siblings.”

“I doubt that,” Riley countered, then changed the subject. “Speaking of siblings, how many of you are there?”

“Four of us,” Jeff replied, “I’m the youngest.”

“And how many boys and girls?”

“One girl and three boys,” Jeff clarified.

“Are they all ‘chinito’ and ‘chinita’ too, like you?” Riley probed, referring to Jeff’s distinct East Asian features.

“Yup,” Jeff confirmed. “We have Chinese blood.”

“Really? That explains it then…”

“Explains what?”

“Nothing,” Riley demurred, a teasing glint in his eye. “Roughly what percentage of Chinese blood do you have?”

Jeff pondered the unusual question. “Percentage, huh? Hmm. About 50%. My dad was Chinese. But he’s not around anymore.”

Riley’s expression softened. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Jeff interjected, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “You didn’t do anything.” His voice then took on a more somber tone. “He was one of the people who died in the plane crash headed here to Iloilo, 18 years ago.”

A sudden realization dawned on Riley. “Wait, you’re 18, right? So you never even got to meet your dad?”

“Nope,” Jeff confirmed, a slight shrug . “That’s so sad,” Riley murmured, his own mood now tinged with melancholy. “You know, babe, it sounds like we’re pretty similar, actually. I never knew my dad either. He’s probably passed away too.”

“Really?” Jeff’s eyes met Riley’s, a shared understanding passing between them. “It’s truly heartbreaking not to have a father, isn’t it? No one to guide you. I always envied my classmates who had their dads.”

Riley reached across the table, his hand gently covering Jeff’s. “Don’t be sad, babe. I really do understand. But we have to move on with life. There’s nothing we can do about it now, right? We should just be grateful that we’re alive. That’s what really matters.”

“I guess so…” Jeff conceded.

“Exactly. Come on, babe. Let’s finish this food.”

“Alright,” Riley agreed, and in comfortable silence, they finished their meal, lingering at their table long after the last bite.

A while later, they rose and resumed their exploration of the mall. As they ambled along, Jeff noticed Riley’s gaze fixated on a particularly dazzling ring in a jewelry display.

“Babe? Look how beautiful,” Riley whispered, pointing. A dreamy quality entered his voice. “Someday. I’ll buy that for us.”

Jeff broke the comfortable silence that had fallen over Alvin and Jacqui, a sudden spark of inspiration in his eyes. “I know now,” he declared, the words carrying a new conviction.

Jacqui sighed dramatically, a hand pressed to her chest. “Finally! You’ve actually come up with something.” Her impatience, though playful, was evident. “Well, spill it! What’s the brilliant idea?”

“Rings.”

Jacqui blinked, a slight frown creasing her brow as if the mall’s ambient noise had swallowed his words. “Huh?”

“Rings,” he repeated, his voice softer now, tinged with a fond recollection. “I’m going to buy us a couple rings. It’s what he always wanted, you know? The very first thing Riley mentioned wanting for us.” A warm smile touched Jeff’s lips. “He said that someday, he’d buy them for us, but it just hasn’t happened yet. So, I’ll be the one to do it.”

A wave of admiration washed over Jacqui. “Wow, that’s incredibly sweet, Jeff. It’s a perfect idea, really. I’m absolutely certain Riley will adore it.”

“He will,” Jeff affirmed, a confident glint in his eye.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the trio made their way through the bustling Iloilo City mall, heading straight for the jewelry store. The display cases glittered with countless options, but Jeff, with Riley firmly in his thoughts, quickly spotted the perfect pair. They were understated yet elegant, a fitting symbol of their connection. Not content with just the rings themselves, Jeff arranged for a special touch: their names, Jeff and Riley, to be delicately engraved on the inside of each band. A private, intimate detail, a secret promise held close to their skin.

“Wow,” Jacqui murmured, watching the transaction unfold with wide eyes. “You really just went for it, didn’t you? You’re so rich!”

“Rich? Not at all,” Jeff retorted, a slight flush rising to his cheeks. The comment, though common, always struck a nerve. Alvin, ever the playful instigator, cut in with a mischievous grin. “Oh, come on, you’re going to deny it? What’s wrong with your dad being the richest businessman in town?”

Jeff’s jaw tightened, his voice dropping to a low, warning tone. “Hey, no. This isn’t from him. This is my own money.” His gaze sharpened, a clear boundary being drawn. “And can you two please, for the love of all that’s holy, leave that person out of our conversation?”

“Sorry, Jeff. Just kidding around,” Alvin said quickly, clapping a reassuring hand on his friend’s back.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine. I’m not mad anymore,” Jeff mumbled, though a trace of lingering annoyance remained in his expression.

“Oh, by the way, Jeff,” Alvin chimed in, smoothly changing the subject. “Are you absolutely sure about Riley’s finger size?”

“Yes, Vin,” Jeff replied, a confident smile returning. “We already had it checked when we first met.”

Jacqui’s eyes widened in genuine surprise, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Wow. You two were really prepared from the very beginning, weren’t you?”

To be continued…

The rings, now carefully wrapped, represented not just a purchase, but a quiet evolution in their relationship. What will happen when Jeff presents them to Riley?

Chapter 12 (Fourth Monthsary)

The evening hours had deepened to around seven o’clock when Jeff finally made it home. The familiar sounds and smells of his house were a comfort, a gentle transition from the day’s hustle. He found solace on his bed, a small, velvet box nestled in his palm. Inside, a pair of rings gleamed faintly in the gathering twilight of his room. He turned them over, examining their intricate design, his gaze unwavering, a radiant smile spreading across his face. This wasn’t just any purchase; it was a tangible symbol, a precious gift he was finally ready to bestow upon the one who held his heart. He traced the smooth, cool metal of the rings with his fingertips, each touch a silent testament to his affection. A soft sigh escaped him, followed by a whispered, “I love you, babe,” the words hanging delicately in the air like a hopeful breath. Just as the sentiment settled, the gentle click of his bedroom door broke the quiet. His mother, Joyce, stood there, her eyes immediately drawn to the object in his hand.

“Son, what is that you’re holding?” she inquired, her voice a soft murmur.

“It’s a ring, Mom,” he replied, a touch of boyish excitement in his tone. Without a word, Joyce stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind her, and approached his bedside.

A knowing smile played on her lips as she leaned in slightly. “Are you going to give that to Riley?”

Jeff’s smile deepened, a genuine warmth radiating from him. “Yes, Mom. This is truly all I can give him for everything he’s done for me, for all his kindness and support.”

“You really love Riley, don’t you?” His mother’s observation was more a statement than a question, one that required no verbal affirmation as Jeff simply offered another tender smile. “I hope your love lasts, son. May your bond strengthen and endure through time.”

“I hope so too, Mom,” he confessed, a vulnerable honesty in his voice. “He’s the only one who has loved me so completely, so unconditionally, even though he’s also a man.”

His mother reached out, her hand gently patting his arm. “Love doesn’t concern itself with gender, my son, does it? What truly matters is the love you share, the genuine connection that binds your hearts.” As she spoke, she noticed his increasing restlessness. His eyes kept darting towards his phone, a silent plea for it to light up.

“Are you waiting for a call, dear?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly with concern.

“It’s Riley, Mom,” he admitted, his voice tinged with anxiety. “He’s not answering my calls or texts. I just want to tell him that tomorrow, June 10th, is our fourth monthsary.”

“What time is it now?” she inquired, her gaze drifting towards the window where the darkness had fully embraced the surroundings.

“It’s already ten o’clock at night, Mom,” he replied, a touch of frustration creeping into his voice.

“Oh, he’s probably at work by now, son. He works hard, you know. Don’t disturb him. I’m sure he remembers that tomorrow marks four months for you two.” Jeff remained silent, a quiet acknowledgment of her sensible words. He simply slid his phone beneath his pillow, the unread messages a quiet testament to his hopeful longing. “Now, get some rest, son. You have an early start tomorrow.”

---

Riley, his eyes glued to his phone, sat hunched on the sofa. Jeff’s incessant calls and texts vibrated in his hand, a constant reminder of the bombshell that had dropped: Jeff, his half-brother. The news had left him reeling, unsure of how to navigate this sudden, complicated truth.

“Why aren’t you at work?” a voice cut through the silence, announcing the arrival of an uninvited guest.

Riley glanced up, then just as quickly returned his attention to the screen. “Just feeling lazy,” he mumbled, the words flat and unconvincing.

Fred, ever persistent, settled onto the sofa beside him. “Lazy? Or is something else bothering you?” His voice was laced with concern, but also a hint of something more, a subtle eagerness that Riley couldn’t quite place.

Riley sighed, a weary sound. “I’m fine, really.”

“No, you’re not,” Fred countered, his voice firm. “Your aunt called me. She told me everything. About you and Jeff… about you being brothers.”

Riley’s brow furrowed. “So, you know. Why are you even asking, then?”

“Because I want to hear it from you, Riley. I’m here for you.” Fred’s hand hovered near Riley’s arm, a silent offer of comfort, or perhaps something else entirely.

Annoyed, Riley pushed himself to his feet. “I don’t need you, okay? Just leave me alone.”

Fred, however, remained rooted to the spot. “After a heartbreak like this? You think I’d leave you? Never.” His gaze intensified, a predatory glint in his eyes.

“What do you want, Fred? Why are you here?!” Riley’s voice was sharp, a desperate attempt to push him away.

“I’m here for you, Riley. I want you to be okay. It tears me apart to see you in pain.” The words were tender, but the way Fred’s eyes lingered on Riley’s lips sent a jolt of something unexpected through Riley’s body. “Thanks for the concern, but you can go now. I don’t need you,” Riley insisted, trying to sound dismissive, but his voice wavered slightly. Fred rose, closing the distance between them. “Believe me, Riley. You need me. I’m here to make your problems disappear right now.” His face drew closer, his breath warm on Riley’s skin, a tantalizing whisper. “To make you happy again. I’m ready to give myself to you, Riley.” “Sorry, but I’m taken,” Riley managed to stammer, a strange heat building within him. Fred’s lips curved into a smirk. “Taken? He’s your brother, isn’t he? What could possibly be wrong with us… with something happening between us?” The words, laced with dark temptation, struck a chord. A primal heat surged through Riley as Fred’s lips, full and inviting, drew nearer. He’s right, a voice whispered in his mind. There’s nothing holding me accountable to Jeff. We’re brothers. With a sudden, desperate hunger, Riley seized Fred, his mouth crashing down in a searing kiss. Without another word, they stumbled toward Riley’s room, consumed by a shared, urgent need.

An hour bled into a silent, awkward aftermath. The lingering scent of their recent intimacy hung heavy in the air, a physical manifestation of the decisions made in a haze of confusion and desperation. Riley, still tangled in the sheets, felt the exhaustion seep into his bones, a profound weariness that went beyond the physical. His voice, when it came, was a mere whisper against the quiet hum of the room. “Was this… right?” The question wasn’t just directed at Fred, but at himself, a desperate plea for absolution he knew wouldn’t come.

Fred, ever the picture of languid ease, shifted beside him, his fingers idly tracing patterns on Riley’s arm. “Of course it was, darling. You haven’t done anything wrong. You and Jeff are siblings, after all.” His tone was smooth, almost hypnotic, designed to soothe, to justify. But the words, intended to alleviate guilt, only sharpened the edges of Riley’s despair. Siblings. The word, once a comfort, now felt like a brand, searing the truth of their forbidden connection into his very soul.

Riley turned, his eyes locking onto Fred’s, a desperate plea for understanding shimmering within them. “But I love Jeff, Fred. I really do. I don’t want to hurt him.” The admission felt like a confession, a raw wound exposed to the harsh light of their complicity. The thought of betraying Jeff, of shattering the fragile world they had built, was a torment.

A subtle shift in Fred’s expression, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, gave Riley pause. Fred’s hand stilled on his arm. “Isn’t what you’re doing right now already hurting him?”

The brutal honesty of the question struck Riley like a physical blow. He recoiled, pushing himself upright, the blanket pooling around his waist. “What?!” His voice was sharp, laced with outrage, a desperate attempt to deflect the blame. “You’re the one who tempted me, aren’t you?”

Fred’s expression softened, a practiced innocence replacing the earlier flicker. “That’s not what I meant,” he corrected gently, his gaze dropping from Riley’s accusing eyes to the vulnerable expanse of his bare chest. “…I meant the fact that you haven’t told him the truth yet.”

The fight drained out of Riley, replaced by a cold, creeping dread. The truth. The insurmountable wall of the truth. “No. I won’t tell him we’re siblings, Fred,” he insisted, his voice hardening with a desperate, almost pathetic resolve. The words were a shield against an unbearable reality. “I can’t lose him. I’m terrified that if he finds out, his love for me will just disappear. I can’t let that happen, Fred.” His eyes, wide and pleading, sought validation, reassurance, anything to avert the impending disaster. The thought of Jeff’s reaction, of the profound hurt and betrayal in his eyes, was a torment Riley couldn’t bear to face. The deeply ingrained Filipino value of hiya (shame/loss of face) weighed heavily on him, the idea of exposing such a complicated and potentially scandalous truth.

Fred’s face became an unreadable tableau, a perfectly crafted mask that revealed nothing. “So, what’s your plan then?” His voice was calm, almost detached, leaving Riley to grapple with the impossible weight of his own desperate evasion. The question hung in the air, a chilling echo of the inevitable reckoning.

---

The glow of the late afternoon sun was fading, replaced by the amber streetlights. It was almost six, and Riley, perched on a worn bench, was growing restless, the minutes stretching into an unbearable eternity. His gaze kept drifting towards the lecture hall, where Jeff’s last class of the day stubbornly refused to end, each passing moment a dull ache in his chest. Finally, a rush of students spilled from the classroom. Among them, Jeff emerged, a buoyant smile on his face, his eyes immediately finding Riley. He practically bounded over, radiating an innocent joy that, to Riley, felt like a cruel mockery of his own internal turmoil.

“Hey, babe. How’ve you been?” Jeff asked, his voice laced with cheerfulness, completely oblivious. Riley remained unusually quiet, a subtle, almost imperceptible tension in his shoulders that Jeff, in his excitement, failed to notice. “Everything okay, babe?” Jeff pressed, his brow furrowing slightly, a hint of concern finally creeping in.

“Yeah. I’m okay,” Riley mumbled, his voice flat, devoid of its usual warmth.

Unaware of the shift in Riley’s mood, Jeff’s smile broadened, a genuine, hopeful gesture. “Happy Fourth Monthsary,” he declared, extending a small, crimson box. Riley took it, his movements stiff, almost reluctant, and popped open the lid. Inside, nestled on a plush velvet cushion, lay two shimmering rings, their polished surfaces catching the dimming light. Jeff had chosen them yesterday, a secret mission, a labor of love, meant to symbolize everything.

“What… what are these?” Riley’s voice was barely a whisper, laced not with confusion, but with a sharp, bitter edge that made Jeff’s heart clench.

“Rings, babe. Why? Don’t you like them?” Jeff’s initial excitement began to wither, replaced by a cold knot of dread. “I bought them because they’ll be our symbol of forever. Hehe. A bit cheesy, I know…” He trailed off, his attempt at lightness falling flat in the suffocating silence.

But Riley’s reaction was far from amused. His heart, though briefly touched by the gesture, was now clenching with a different, more potent emotion – a mixture of betrayal and simmering resentment. “Yes, I know they’re rings. But aren’t they expensive? JEFF, seriously! You wasted money on something completely worthless!” His voice began to rise, a raw, furious edge entering it, each word a lash. “I thought you were supposed to be smart with your money?”

Jeff recoiled as if struck, stunned into a painful silence. The joyful anticipation he’d felt just moments before evaporated, leaving a hollow ache. He’d misjudged this so profoundly. He thought Riley would love them, cherish them as much as he did. “I just… I just bought them for our monthsary today because Jacqui said—” Jeff began, his voice barely a whisper, a desperate plea for understanding.

“AH-HA! ‘Jacqui said’!” Riley cut him off, his voice now a full-blown shout, raw and unbridled, echoing cruelly in the emptying hallway. “Is she the one making decisions for us? Is she the one spending the money? And if she is, then why don’t you two just be together? BE TOGETHER, BOTH OF YOU!”

The venom in Riley’s words was palpable. Jeff’s jaw tightened, his eyes glazing over with unshed tears. “Why are you so hot-headed, huh? You’ve been like this since Friday. Do you have a problem?” His voice cracked, a plea for answers, for the Riley he knew to return.

“I don’t have a problem, Jeff,” Riley retorted, his voice vibrating with barely contained fury. “You’re the one with the problem because you’re throwing money away on meaningless things!”

“They’re not meaningless, though!” Jeff cried out, desperation coloring his tone. “I just bought them because I remembered you once said you liked them, that you wanted us to get them sometime. I thought this would be special, for us!”

“Oh, really?! So you couldn’t wait?!” Riley’s voice was a furious crescendo, a public spectacle, drawing curious, lingering glances from the few remaining students. “You’re trying to get ahead of me? What’s that supposed to mean? That I don’t have money to buy something this expensive?” He stepped closer, his eyes blazing, a cold, hard anger radiating from him. “The problem with you, Jeff… YOU’RE A SNOB!”

The word hung in the air, a devastating blow. Jeff’s mouth fell open, a silent scream caught in his throat. He hadn’t anticipated such a cruel, unfounded accusation, a complete distortion of his intentions. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut, his breath stolen. “That really hurts, Riley. What did I do wrong? I just bought these as a gift for you… for us.” His voice was a raw, wounded whisper, filled with an agony that tore at his very soul. “And now I’m the one who’s in the wrong? That’s so unfair, Riley.” His hand trembled as he reached out, his fingers brushing against Riley’s, and gently took the small box with the rings, still clutched in Riley’s rigid grasp. “If you don’t want them, I won’t force you.” His voice, though quiet, was filled with a profound, unbearable hurt, the weight of a broken heart. “Thanks for waiting, anyway. I’m going home.”

He turned, every step an effort, leaving Riley standing alone amidst the echoes of his own anger, the two rings now a bitter, useless reminder of a monthsary gone tragically, irrevocably wrong. The light of their love, it seemed, had just flickered out.

Riley stood frozen, the harsh fluorescent lights of the park doing little to dispel the gloom that had descended upon him. He watched Jeff’s retreating figure, each step taking a piece of Riley’s own shattered heart with it. A profound emptiness bloomed in his chest, a cold, aching void where his love for Jeff once resided, now twisted and distorted by the lie he’d just uttered. He was vaguely aware of the distant murmur of the city, the laughter of children, the rustle of leaves in the evening breeze – all mundane sounds that felt impossibly far away, muffled by the roaring in his ears, a cacophony of pain and regret.

His vision blurred, not from tears, not yet, but from the sheer force of the self-loathing that surged through him, an acidic tide. He tasted bile in his throat, a bitter reflection of the venom he’d just spewed. How could he have been so cruel? So cutting? The memory of Jeff’s stunned, wounded expression seared itself into his mind, a brand he knew would forever mark him, a scar on his soul. “I’m so sorry, babe,” he choked out, the words a desperate, unheard plea swallowed by the vast, indifferent expanse of the park. “I had to do this. You deserve so much more than this half-life I could offer, a life tainted by a truth that would destroy you, a truth that would turn your love for me into ash.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the image of Jeff’s face, but it only intensified, a cruel torment. The agonizing irony of his love, so pure, so all-consuming, now tainted by a devastating secret, twisted inside him like a poisoned blade. “I’m not the right person for you,” he whispered again, the lie feeling heavier with each repetition, each word a nail in his own coffin of sorrow. “I’m not the person you deserve, not when a shadow this dark hangs over us, a shadow that would consume everything we hold dear.” He could almost feel the phantom touch of Jeff’s hand in his, a warmth that now felt like a scorching brand, burning away all hope. “I’d rather bear this burden alone, carry this secret until my dying breath, than let it shatter your world into irreparable fragments.” A ragged breath escaped his lips, a broken sound. “Better you hate me now, better you resent my memory, better you curse my name, than have your love for me crumble to dust when you discover the truth: that we’re siblings.” The word hung in the humid air, a poisonous, unutterable truth that had driven him to this desperate, heartbreaking act.

The strength drained from his legs, and Riley collapsed onto the cold park bench, the rough wood a stark contrast to the tumultuous storm raging within him. He buried his face in his hands, his body finally surrendering to the grief that had been threatening to consume him, a suffocating weight. There, under the indifferent gaze of the night sky, with the distant rumble of traffic and the faint scent of the sea carried on the breeze, he finally allowed the dam to break. His body was wracked with gut-wrenching sobs that tore through him, each one a testament to the love he had sacrificed for a truth too terrible to tell, a truth that would forever keep them apart. His tears flowed not just for the love lost, but for the future that would never be, for the joy he had deliberately extinguished.

---

The twilight deepened outside, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, but for Jeff, the colors were muted by the dull ache in his chest. It was nearly seven in the evening when he finally let himself into his father’s house, the familiar quiet of home a stark contrast to the clamor of his thoughts.

Just inside the door, Jean stood, an imposing figure with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her gaze fixed on him. Her voice, when it cut through the silence, was sharp, edged with accusation. “Oh. Why are you only now getting home? And where have you been?” Her eyes, ever-piercing, narrowed slightly as they landed on his subtly reddened nose. “Wait, did you cry?”

Jeff offered a dismissive wave, a half-hearted attempt at a lie. “Nothing. Just a cold.”

But Jean was not easily fooled. “Really? But you can’t trick me. I know you cried,” she insisted, her voice unwavering. “Did you and your significant other fight again?” A surge of irritation rose within Jeff. “None of your business, okay? That’s our problem. You don’t have any right to butt in.”

Jean, however, bristled at his words. “Of course, I do have a right to butt in! You’re living here in our house,” she retorted, her voice rising in volume. “And if anything happens to you two, we’ll be responsible because you and your mother are here. It would even be my fault if anything happened to you now because of your heart condition. I don’t know you, you might take things from this house, sell them, and give the money to your boyfriend!” Her relentless tirade continued, a cascade of bitter words, but Jeff, his spirit already dampened by his earlier disappointment with Riley, found himself barely registering her accusations. “I know how you queer people operate. You’re desperate for men. Don’t you know he’s only with you for your money?”

Despite the turmoil within him, a faint, weary smile touched Jeff’s lips. “Sorry. Riley is different. He’s not like your past boyfriends who were only after your money.” With that final jab, Jeff bypassed her and retreated directly to the sanctuary of his and his mother’s room.

Inside the quiet haven of the bedroom, the soft glow of a lamp illuminated his mother, Joyce, diligently folding their clean laundry. The sight of her, so calm and comforting, was a small beacon in his storm-tossed emotions.

“Good evening, Mom,” Jeff murmured, reaching for her hand and bringing it to his forehead in a gesture of respect.

“Good evening too, son,” Joyce replied, her voice a balm to his troubled mind. “Have you eaten yet?”

“I’m still full, Mom. I think I’ll just sleep,” he lied, the thought of food unappealing in his current state.

“Are you sure you’re full?” his mother gently pressed, her gaze now fixed on his face, discerning the subtle signs of his distress.

“Yes, Mom. I’m sure,” he insisted, hoping to close the topic.

But a mother’s intuition was rarely wrong. “Are you okay, son?” Joyce asked again, her voice laced with concern as she noticed the slight puffiness around his eyes, the heavy set of his shoulders. She knew that look.

“I’m okay, Mom. Why do you ask?” he tried to sound casual, but the effort was draining.

“Your nose is red, Jeff,” Joyce observed softly. “Did you cry earlier?”

“It’s nothing,” he repeated, the lie feeling flimsy and transparent even to his own ears.

“Jeffrey… tell me the truth. What’s the problem?” Her voice was firm but gentle, an invitation to confide.

“It’s nothing, Mom. I’m fine.” He still resisted, a stubborn part of him wanting to bear the burden alone.

“Don’t fool me. I’m your mother. I know you,” Joyce reminded him, her voice a gentle command, a silent insistence on honesty. “I know that face. Is it Riley again?”

At the mention of Riley’s name, the dam within Jeff finally broke. He moved towards her, wrapping his arms around her in a desperate embrace, burying his face in her shoulder. “He picked a fight with me, Mom. I just can’t understand him.” His voice was muffled, thick with the unshed tears that now freely flowed.

“Why? What did he say?” she asked, her arms wrapping around him, holding him close.

“He said I was spending money on useless things and that I was getting ahead of myself,” Jeff confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush of hurt and confusion.

Joyce paused, then spoke, her voice filled with quiet wisdom. “Is that so? Well, he has a point. It’s true that you’re spending on things that aren’t right. You should have talked about it.”

Jeff pulled back slightly, his brow furrowed in bewilderment. “But I wanted to surprise him, Mom. Didn’t he appreciate that?”

“He probably appreciated it, but just try to understand Riley, son. He also has a point,” she gently explained, her words a soothing balm to his wounded spirit.

A long, weary sigh escaped Jeff. “Sigh. Okay, Mom. Next time, I won’t do that anymore. I’ll ask him first.” A small, genuine smile finally touched his lips, lightening the shadows on his face. “Thanks for your advice. You’ve lightened my mood. You’re truly the best, Mom.”

---

The final bell of Jeff’s last class chimed, a sound usually synonymous with freedom, but today it only amplified his growing anxiety. His phone was already in his hand, a lifeline he desperately needed to connect with Riley. Call after call, text after text, each attempt met with silence. “Babe, please. Just answer my call and text, or I’m going to lose it,” he muttered to himself, the words a strained whisper in the emptying hallway. The stress was a knot in his stomach, tightening with every passing minute.

An hour bled into the late afternoon, the sun dipping lower in the sky, painting the clouds in fiery hues that Jeff barely registered. With no response from Riley, he finally gave up and decided to head home. As he started his journey, a sudden, cold realization washed over him: it was Thursday. The day Natalie and William, his father and his new wife, returned from their business ventures in Manila.

A fresh wave of dread coiled in Jeff’s gut. The thought of facing William, especially after whatever Jean might have whispered in his ear, sent a shiver down his spine. He pictured his father’s stern face, the judgment in his eyes. Would William truly cast him out because of who he was? The closer he got to the house, the more his heart hammered against his ribs.

He braced himself for the confrontation, for the inevitable conversation about his sexuality that loomed like a storm cloud. If his father rejected him, if he was disowned, Jeff told himself he’d be okay. He was, after all, accustomed to the narrow-mindedness of some people. It wouldn’t surprise him if his father, a man known for his own indiscretions, was among them. But a flicker of hope remained. If, by some miracle, William accepted him, Jeff made a silent vow: he would forgive his father for all the pain he’d caused their family, especially his mother.

His hand trembled slightly as he turned the doorknob. The click echoed loudly in the sudden silence of the entryway, and his heart leaped into his throat. He pushed the door open, stepping inside, and there they were: William, his father, and Natalie, his new wife, seated on the living room sofa. Their gazes were fixed on him, a mixture of anticipation and something unreadable in their eyes. And then he saw Jean. She was perched on the stairs, a wicked, triumphant grin plastered across her face, like a demon observing a carefully laid trap.

Jeff’s legs felt heavy, but he forced himself forward, moving towards William and Natalie. He extended his hand, a gesture of respect, and brought it to their foreheads, a silent acknowledgment of their return. The air crackled with unspoken tension, a prelude to the words about to be exchanged. Jean’s silent, predatory smile was a clear sign that the quiet peace he had briefly found with his mother was about to shatter, leaving him vulnerable to his father’s judgment. Every fiber of his being was on high alert, anticipating the storm that was surely brewing.

To be continued…

What do you think will happen next when Jeff faces his father?

Chapter 13 (Jeff’s Rage)

The living room, usually a sanctuary of quiet comfort, now felt like a tribunal. The faint glow from a single lamp cast long, dancing shadows, distorting familiar objects into ominous shapes. Every tick of the grandfather clock in the corner was a hammer blow against Jeff’s racing heart, each second dragging him closer to what he feared would be his undoing. His entire being was a frantic tremor, a symphony of dread as he shuffled, limb by leaden limb, towards his father, William.

William stood by the mantlepiece, his back to Jeff, seemingly absorbed in the quiet mechanics of the clock. Yet, Jeff could feel his father’s presence like a physical weight, an unspoken accusation hanging in the air. When William finally spoke, his voice was measured, calm, but laced with an unsettling coolness. “Why are you only here now?” He turned, his gaze sweeping over Jeff, settling on the clock. “It’s late, isn’t it?”

The casual observation felt like a drill boring into Jeff’s very soul. “I just… I just went somewhere, Po,” he stammered, the words catching in his throat, a dry, metallic taste on his tongue. He tried to project an air of nonchalance, but the tremor in his hands, the faint sheen of sweat on his brow, betrayed him.

William’s eyes narrowed, a subtle shift that spoke volumes. “Where? And who were you with?” The questions were simple, direct, yet they felt like intricate traps, designed to ensnare him.

Panic flared. Jeff’s face, already pale, seemed to drain of all remaining color. “Just me, Po,” he whispered, forcing the lie through chapped lips. “I just hung out at the Internet Shop.” He hoped the mundane excuse would be enough, but his father’s unwavering gaze was a mirror, reflecting his own desperate lie back at him.

A slow, deliberate breath expanded William’s chest. The silence that followed stretched, taut and suffocating, until William finally spoke, his voice softer, yet somehow more commanding. “Ah. Is that so?” Then, with an almost imperceptible nod, “Sit down.”

The command was a physical blow. Jeff’s knees buckled, threatening to give way beneath him. Each step toward the plush sofa felt like an ascent, his muscles screaming in protest. As he sank onto the cushion beside his father, the proximity amplified his terror. He could feel the warmth radiating from William, a warmth that usually brought comfort, but now felt like the oppressive heat of an approaching storm.

“Why, Po?” The question was barely a whisper, a desperate plea for reprieve, as he clutched his knees, trying to still their violent shaking.

William turned, his expression unreadable, and then delivered the first true strike. “Jeff. Jean told me something earlier.” A raw, guttural swallow was Jeff’s only response. The name Jean was a poisoned dart, finding its mark. This was it. The moment of truth, the culmination of weeks of agonizing secrecy and gnawing fear. He risked a quick, furtive glance towards the staircase. There, in the shadows, Jean’s eyes, glittering with malicious triumph, were fixed on him, drinking in his torment. The sight sent a fresh wave of nausea through him. “She said you’re in a relationship with a guy. Is what she’s saying true, Jeff?”

The world seemed to tilt. Jeff. Not “anak.” Not “son.” Just Jeff. The stark formality, the absence of any affection in his father’s voice, was a confirmation of his darkest fear: his father’s disappointment, his anger at Jeff’s very nature. The thought echoed in the desolate chambers of his mind, a cold, unyielding truth.

“Oh… why can’t you answer?” William’s voice, still unnervingly calm, sliced through his internal monologue.

“Ye-yes, Po,” Jeff stammered, the confession torn from him, ragged and raw. He braced himself, every muscle tensed, awaiting the explosion, the furious reprimand, the crushing rejection. But instead, a slow, gentle smile spread across William’s face. A smile devoid of anger, tinged with something unexpected, something akin to… understanding?

“Who is he?…I’d like to meet him,” William said, and the words, so utterly out of place, so unbelievably kind, caused Jeff’s mind to reel. Riley? His father wanted to meet Riley? Why? The sheer, bewildering absurdity of it all left him speechless.

“Po?” Jeff managed, his voice thin with disbelief.

“Didn’t you hear? I said—” “Opo. I heard you, but why do you want to meet him?” Jeff interrupted, his confusion overriding his fear.

A genuine smile now touched William’s lips, his eyes sparkling with a curious, almost eager, interest. He leaned forward, his voice softening, filled with a tenderness that brought a fresh wave of tears to Jeff’s eyes. “I just want to… Is it bad? I just want to meet the lucky man my son loves now. And I’ll tell him to take care of you and love you truly because I never want to see you hurt.”

The sudden, seismic shift from terror to an overwhelming, disarming compassion left Jeff utterly stunned. The immense weight he hadn’t realized he was carrying, the crushing burden of secrecy and the pervasive fear of his father’s wrath, began to lift, replaced by a fragile, soaring hope that was almost too much to bear. It was a moment of profound relief, a turning point in the suffocating silence of their relationship.

A radiant warmth bloomed in Jeff’s chest, chasing away years of gnawing apprehension. His father’s words, so simple yet so profound, resonated like a forgotten melody finally remembered. With a raw, choked cry, he launched himself into William’s arms, burying his face in the familiar scent of his father, and there, the torrent of pent-up tears finally unleashed. They streamed down his face, hot and insistent, each drop a release of fears and doubts that had weighed him down for so long. “Thank you… oh, thank you,” he sobbed, the words barely audible, insufficient to convey the monumental shift that had just occurred within him. What could possibly encapsulate the feeling of being truly seen, truly loved, after so much silent struggle?

William’s embrace was a fortress of unconditional love, firm yet gentle, pulling Jeff closer as if to mend every fissure the years had carved between them. “I’m not angry, son, not about who you are,” he murmured, his own voice thick with unshed tears, a tremor of pure emotion. “All I’ve ever truly wanted was your happiness. You’re not stepping on anyone’s toes, Jeff, not hurting a soul. I love you, my boy, more than words can say.”

“Oh, Dad,” Jeff wept anew, clinging to his father as if he might vanish, as if this precious moment might dissolve into a dream. “Thank you, thank you again.”

William held him tighter, a fierce, protective embrace that spoke volumes of missed years and the silent chasm that had slowly, painfully, widened between them. “This,” William whispered, tears now freely tracing lines down his own weathered cheeks, “this is what it feels like to hold my son again, after all these years. To hear you call me ‘Dad’ once more…” His voice cracked with an overwhelming joy, a profound sense of completeness. “This is enough for me, Jeff. Even if you haven’t quite forgiven me yet, just feeling the warmth of your embrace… feeling you here, in my arms… that’s all I’ll ever need.”

“Thank you for taking me in, Dad,” Jeff sobbed, his voice raw with the sheer relief that permeated his very being.

“There’s nothing to thank me for, son,” William insisted, a soft, tearful smile gracing his lips. “I accept you because I love you… because you are my son.” Through the blur of his own tears, Jeff saw his father’s gentle, unconditional smile, and a lightness, so profound it was almost dizzying, bloomed in his chest. Finally, He could breathe, truly breathe, for the first time in what felt like forever. It was as if a massive, jagged thorn, lodged deep within his very soul, had at last been meticulously, gently, pulled free, leaving behind only the exquisite ache of overwhelming, undeniable happiness. The weight that had crushed him for so long lifted, replaced by a boundless sense of belonging and peace.

“Dad! What is the meaning of this?!” Jean’s furious cry ripped through the quiet house, echoing from the staircase as she descended, her eyes blazing.

William, startled, turned to face her. “What’s ‘this,’ Jean?”

“THIS!” she spat, her arm sweeping dramatically towards Jeff, “This acceptance of your gay son!” The word “gay” was laced with venom, a deliberate insult hurled like a stone. “Isn’t it strictly forbidden in our lineage to be of the third sex?”

Jeff’s jaw tightened, a tremor of anger running through him, but he forced himself to speak calmly. “I wasn’t aware there was any rule forbidding a bisexual person in our family, actually.” William nodded, a silent affirmation of Jeff’s words, which only seemed to fuel Jean’s rage.

“Shut up! I wasn’t talking to you!” Jean shrieked, her voice rising to a shrill crescendo as she rounded on Jeff.

“Jean! That’s enough! You will not be rude to your older brother. Show some respect,” Natalie interjected, stepping forward, her voice sharp with maternal reprimand for her ill-tempered daughter.

“Mom?! You too?! You’re taking his side?!” Jean’s finger jabbed accusingly at Jeff, her eyes wide with disbelief and fury. “Brother?! Or should I say SISTER? And I will never show respect to an abnormal person like him!” The fresh insult hung in the air, thick with malice. Jeff stood still, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, fighting a losing battle against the urge to retaliate, his gaze fixed on his father, knowing he had to maintain control.

“That’s it! Go to your room! And you are not to come out until I say so!” William’s voice boomed, his patience finally snapping, his gaze fixed on his daughter.

“But Dad…” Jean began, a whine creeping into her tone.

“I said go to your room!” William’s command was unyielding, leaving no room for argument.

“Fine! You want this?! You’ll regret accepting him into this family!” Jean’s threat was a chilling promise, her eyes darting between her parents. “Let’s just see what Grandpa and Grandma have to say, and what their reaction will be to you accepting that person!” With a final, seething glare directed at Jeff, her eyes blazing with an almost terrifying intensity, Jean spun on her heel and stormed away. Jeff, however, offered only a small, defiant smile in return to his volatile sister. “You won this round, Jeff. But I’ll be in the next.” The words were a low growl, a silent vow of future retribution, before she disappeared from view, leaving behind a palpable tension in the room.

William released a heavy sigh, the sound laced with a deep-seated weariness as he contemplated the sheer force of Jean’s outburst. He truly hadn’t anticipated such a volcanic reaction from his daughter towards her own brother.

“Please, talk to your daughter,” William urged Natalie, his voice strained. “She’s growing up to be so disrespectful.”

Natalie nodded, her expression grim. “I will. I’ll have a word with her later.” Then, turning to Jeff, her face softened, a small smile gracing her lips. “Oh, by the way, Jeff, where is he now?”

“Riley?” Jeff replied, a flicker of sadness clouding his features. “I’m not sure. We haven’t really been in touch, not even texts or calls.”

“Oh? Did you two have a fight?” Natalie’s brow furrowed with concern.

“Maybe,” Jeff admitted, the brief flicker of hope from his father’s acceptance dimming once more. A familiar ache settled in his chest.

William, sensing his son’s renewed melancholy, stepped in. “Hey, it’s alright, son. These ups and downs are just part of any relationship. Your mom and I went through the same thing, you know.”

“Really?” Jeff looked up, a glimmer of surprise in his eyes.

“Yes, son. Just give him some time to cool down. Try to understand his perspective,” William advised, his tone gentle and reassuring.

“Okay, Dad. Thank you for the advice,” Jeff said, a small, grateful smile forming on his lips.

“Sigh. It’s a shame, though. I was really hoping to meet him soon,” William mused, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“Don’t worry, Dad. You’ll meet Riley as soon as possible,” Jeff assured him, a newfound determination in his voice. William returned his son’s smile, a silent promise hanging in the air.

“Hmmm. Son, can I ask you a favor?” William began, his gaze softening, almost pleading.

“What is it, Dad?” Jeff asked, sensing the shift in his father’s demeanor.

“Could you and your mom possibly stay here for a few more days?” William asked, his voice filled with a rare vulnerability. “I just… I really want to spend more time with you, son. Is that okay?” His eyes, usually firm and commanding, held a desperate plea to simply prolong the precious moments of reunion.

---

Saturday dawned, but with it came a gnawing silence. Riley remained unresponsive to Jeff’s ceaseless texts and calls, each unanswered attempt deepening his worry. A cold dread settled in his stomach—what had happened to him? Why the sudden, unsettling quiet?

Joyce, Jeff’s mother, found him a figure of despair, perched on the edge of his bed, his gaze lost in the blank expanse of the wall. “Son,” she began, her voice soft, a gentle prod into his stillness. Jeff turned, his eyes still holding a profound sadness. “Why this gloom? You seem to be the only soul I know who can find sorrow even when your father has finally embraced you.”

“It’s Riley, Mom,” he confessed, the name a heavy sigh. “He still hasn’t reached out.”

Joyce offered possibilities, gentle suggestions to soothe his troubled mind. “Perhaps he’s swamped with work… or maybe he’s fallen ill.”

“I don’t know,” Jeff murmured, “or maybe… maybe he’s angry with me.”

“Why would he be angry with you?” Joyce probed, her brow furrowing with concern. “I just don’t know, Mom.”

The shadow of sorrow clung to Jeff’s face, unyielding. But then, a flicker of an idea sparked in Joyce’s eyes. With a sudden, decisive pull, she helped him to his feet. A plan, a bright antidote to his gloom, had just materialized.

“Get up and get dressed. We’re going out. “ “Where, Mom?” Jeff asked, a hint of curiosity finally stirring within him.

“To the mall, of course! I’m taking you shopping!”

Jeff’s eyebrows shot up. “Shopping? Do you have money, Mom?”

“Of course I do!” Joyce declared, a triumphant smile gracing her lips as she revealed a thick wad of one-thousand-peso bills. “One hundred thousand pesos! Your father gave it to me. He insisted I take you shopping today because he knew you were feeling down.”

Jeff’s eyes widened at the sight of the money. “That’s so much money, Mom! You should give it back. I have my own money. I don’t need that.” He waved away the bills, a new worry replacing the old. “What if my witchy sister sees it? What else will she say?”

“That’s precisely what I told him,” Joyce countered, “but your father was adamant that we take it. He even said it wasn’t enough to make up for all his past failings towards you.”

A faint smile, the first in what felt like days, touched Jeff’s lips. He finally relented, agreeing to the outing. They departed their home around eleven that morning. Natalie and William had already left for work, while Jean remained cloistered in her room.

Their shopping spree at the mall was extensive. Groceries, clothes, shoes, gadgets, and countless other treasures found their way into their bags, each purchase a small step away from the heavy silence that had begun Jeff’s day.

They arrived home just as the last vestiges of twilight painted the sky, around seven in the evening. The lingering scent of a long day’s activities clung to them as they stepped inside, only to find Jean already sprawled on the sofa, seemingly glued to some insipid television program. Her head snapped up at their entrance, her eyes, cold and calculating, instantly fixed on them. With a swift, almost aggressive movement, she uncoiled herself from the sofa and advanced, her heels clicking a sharp rhythm on the floor.

“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” Jean drawled, her voice a sickly sweet concoction laced with venom. “The ‘legal family,’ as they so proudly call themselves, back from their little daddy-charming excursion.” Her gaze, sharp and assessing, raked over their faces, then lingered with a sneer on the bags clutched in their hands. “Where have you two been gallivanting, trying to spend Daddy’s money?”

“We just went to the mall, dear,” Joyce replied, her tone carefully neutral, an attempt to douse the flames of Jean’s obvious hostility. “Just picked up a few things.”

“Oh, really?” Jean’s eyes narrowed, a cruel smirk playing on her lips as she took in the sheer volume of their purchases. “That’s quite a ‘few things,’ wouldn’t you say? Did you actually buy all that, or did Daddy just hand over his wallet like the good little ATM he is for you?”

“Of course we did,” Jeff interjected, stepping slightly in front of his mother, a shield against Jean’s relentless barbs. His jaw was tight.

A derisive snort escaped Jean. “Whose money, pray tell? Because I’m quite sure you two don’t have the kind of funds to practically empty an entire mall, do you? So, what was your method? Did you simply steal it? Or did you bat your eyelashes at Daddy until he coughed it up?”

“What’s your point, Jean?” Jeff’s voice was now a low growl, his patience having finally snapped.

“Nothing,” she purred, though her eyes blazed with thinly veiled contempt, her relentless badgering of Jeff continuing unabated. “I’m just… curious. So, out with it. Where did the money for all your ridiculously lavish little indulgences come from? Was it from Daddy, perhaps, because he feels oh-so-guilty about leaving you in the gutter for years?”

“Yes,” Jeff snapped, his control finally breaking. “It came from him. Every single peso for my things. Got a problem with that, you spoiled brat?”

With a definitive, angry turn, Jeff spun away from the venomous exchange, pulling his mother gently by the arm, and the two headed directly for their room, desperate to escape the suffocating animosity. But Jean was not finished. Her voice rose, shrill and accusatory, echoing through the quiet house like a banshee’s wail. “You two have some nerve! You’ve only just waltzed into our home, into our lives, and you’ve already plundered Daddy’s money! You’re nothing but gold-digging opportunists!” Her final words were a furious, unrestrained tantrum, leaving the echoes of her raw anger to hang heavy and acrid in the air.

Jeff’s ears burned at what he heard. He immediately brought his mother into their room and faced Jean. This was the moment he had been waiting for—to finally confront his sister.

“Stolen?? If anything, you stole from my father. You and your mother. So please, Jean, don’t act like you’re the victim in all of this.”

“How dare you insult my mother!” Jean snapped. “You used our money, and not even a cent of Daddy’s wealth belongs to you. You have no right to use it.”

“Your money? Wow. And who told you that?”

“Me. Us. Because we’re Daddy’s real family,” she shouted. “You’re just intruders!”

Jeff just laughed at Jean’s words. “Yeah. You’re right. You’re the family he’s with now, the one he comes home to. And yes, you carry his last name. But here’s something you better remember, Jean: We are still the legal family. The legal DY family. And not even a fraction of Dad’s money do you have the right to touch or use.” He looked at Jean from head to toe. “From the gadgets you use, to the clothes you wear, to this house—everything you see here belongs to us. You’re the outsiders in this house and in this family. Get that into your narrow mind!” Jeff yelled, pointing a finger to Jean’s forehead.

Suddenly, Jean slapped Jeff hard—so hard that he fell to the floor. He got up right away, gave a provoking smile, and walked back into his mother’s room.

“What now?! Feeling brave just because Daddy accepted you even if you’re gay?! Remember this—no one will ever accept you because people like you don’t belong here!” she shouted after Jeff, who was already inside the room, and threw a vase at the door. Her face was flushed. She was feeling a mix of anger and fear. She wanted to throw Jeff and his mother out of the house.

The door opened again, and Jeff came out. His mother tried to stop him, but he brushed her off and went out anyway. He was finally going to confront Jean for real.

“What did you say?” Jeff asked, as if he didn’t hear what Jean shouted earlier. “Say it again?”

“Are you deaf or just plain dumb? I said… YOU’RE GAY because you hit on women!” Jean screamed again at Jeff.

“Oh, I’m gay, huh? This is gay,” he said, and suddenly slapped Jean hard. His handprint was clearly visible on her right cheek.

“Listen carefully, woman,” he said, squeezing her cheeks with his thumb and forefinger as Jean looked terrified.

“There are women who are respected by men, loved, and married… and there are women who deserve to be confronted because of their vile behavior and sharp tongue—and you’re one of them!” Jeff continued as he kept squeezing Jean’s face. “I’ve been holding back for a long time, Jean, but I’ve had enough of your nastiness!”

Jean couldn’t say a word and just ran upstairs to her room, crying like a child. Meanwhile, Jeff’s mother made him sit on the sofa and tried to calm him down.

To be continued…

Chapter 14 (The Weight of a Broken Heart)

The next day, the mall’s relentless cheer felt like a cruel joke. Under the harsh, unforgiving lights, Riley finally faced Jeff, but the reunion they both might have hoped for was overshadowed by a chilling shift. A cold, palpable distance had settled in Riley’s demeanor, casting an immediate shadow over Jeff’s anxious anticipation.

They found a fleeting solace in a quiet corner of the food court, but even there, their hushed voices were taut with an unbearable tension. “Babe? What’s wrong?” Jeff’s voice was a desperate, almost raw plea, his eyes frantically searching Riley’s for any flicker of understanding, any hint of the person he knew. “Do we have a problem?” But Riley offered no immediate comfort, his gaze utterly vacant, fixed on some unseen point beyond the milling crowds. Jeff’s heart began to pound, a frantic drumbeat of dread. “Babe, please talk to me. Why? What did I do? Why are you like this??”

Finally, a whisper, so faint it was barely audible above the mall’s din. “Nothing. You don’t have a problem. It’s me. I’m the one with the problem.” The words, though quiet, landed like heavy stones.

Jeff reached across the table, his hand trembling as he sought Riley’s, a desperate attempt to bridge the chasm that had opened between them. “What is it? Tell me. Let’s talk about this, babe.” The familiar touch, meant to be a comfort, was instantly rejected. Riley pulled away, a stark, painful withdrawal.

“For what? So you can rub it in my face how worthless I am? Don’t bother…” A sharp, unexpected pain lanced through Jeff. His mind raced, trying to grasp at straws, to understand the source of this sudden, crushing coldness.

“Is this about the ring I bought?” he ventured, his voice cracking with a fragile hope for a simple explanation. “If that’s your only problem, then I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, babe.”

Riley’s reply was a soundless, bitter laugh that cut deeper than any shout. “It won’t happen again? You already bought it, Jeff. It’s just a waste of your money and effort.” The words were devoid of warmth, laced with an almost cruel indifference.

“Sorry, babe. I didn’t know you’d get angry,” Jeff pleaded, his voice thick with confusion and rising desperation. He was utterly bewildered, lost in the face of Riley’s icy resolve.

“You don’t ask. That’s your problem,” Riley retorted, the words sharp and final, like a door slamming shut. Without another syllable, he pushed away from the table, the screech of the chair a harsh punctuation mark. “You know what, let’s just end this. I don’t want this anymore.” Panic seized Jeff, cold and absolute. “Babe… please don’t. I love you.” He lunged, his hand closing around Riley’s wrist, pulling him back down onto the unforgiving plastic seat. His voice was raw, a desperate choke. “Are you breaking up with me?”

The answer, when it came, was a hammer blow, shattering everything. “It hurts, but yes. I want to break up with you. I’m sorry, but this is as far as we go.”

Riley stood again, but Jeff, consumed by a frantic need to hold on, refused to let him go. “Riley…” he cried, his voice breaking, a guttural sound of pure agony. He paused, turning slowly, as Jeff reached into his bag, pulling out a small, familiar box.

“If that’s your decision,” Jeff began, his voice thick with unshed tears, trembling with the weight of utter defeat, “I won’t force you. I’ll accept it, even if it tears me apart. But please, take this ring as a symbol of my love for you. Keep it. You don’t even have to wear it. Just let it be a reminder that I was a part of your life. That I loved you.”

Without a word, without a glance back, Riley reached out and took the small red box, the one containing two rings – promises now broken, dreams now shattered. He turned his back on Jeff, and with each step, he walked away, leaving Jeff utterly alone amidst the indifferent hum of the mall. Jeff crumpled back into the seat, the raw, brutal pain of their abrupt ending crushing him, a relationship dissolved for a reason that felt tragically, unbelievably shallow, leaving him with nothing but the echo of his own broken heart.

---

The moment Jeff stepped through the threshold, the silence of the house felt less like peace and more like a heavy shroud. The cheerful din of the mall had been a distraction, but here, in the cold, unyielding quiet, the weight of his reality descended, suffocating him. His stomach, a distant memory of hunger, pulled him to the dining table. He flicked on the dim kitchen light, its weak glow doing little to dispel the gloom. A glance at the wall clock confirmed the late hour: nine o’clock in the evening. No movement, no faint sounds of life. They were all asleep, oblivious, leaving him to confront the ghost of his day alone.

He found it, a covered dish, a mundane offering on the table. Menudo, his mother’s familiar stew, now utterly unappetizing. He spooned a portion onto his plate, the motions robotic. He sat, lifted the fork, but the food remained untouched, a leaden weight on his tongue. His gaze glazed over, eyes fixed on nothing, his mind plummeting into the abyss of his recent past. The breakup with Riley—raw, brutal, an open wound—consumed him, each memory a fresh stab. He felt utterly broken, adrift in a sea of despair with no anchor, no shore in sight.

A sudden, jarring creak echoed from the staircase. From the shadows, a figure emerged, descending with an unnervingly light, almost predatory step. It was Jean, her face illuminated by the faint kitchen light, twisted into a smile that wasn’t warm, but knowing, almost triumphant. It was a smile that promised pain, betraying an unsettling awareness of his shattered world.

“What’s wrong, Jeff?” Jean’s voice was a saccharine whisper, laced with barely concealed malice. “Did you and your ‘babe’ fight again? …Karma really is fast, isn’t it? And you deserve that, because you’re gay and an exploiter of our wealth.” Her words, delivered with a chilling precision, were meant to flay him alive.

Jeff’s jaw clenched, a muscle twitching violently. “You’re really not going to leave me alone, not even now, are you?” His voice was a strained rasp, barely audible, a desperate, futile plea for mercy. Jean, however, savored his agony. “Why, oh why, my brother? Are you not in the mood to argue again with your beloved and sweet little sister?” She stalked closer, her taunts a venomous stream, each word a deliberate, calculated strike.

“No. So please. Not now,” Jeff managed, his eyes burning with a silent, desperate warning.

“I don’t want to!” she shrieked, her voice suddenly piercing, laced with feigned outrage. “After you hurt me last night and treated me like a rag, now you don’t want to?! It’s good that you’re angry now so Daddy and Mommy can hear you oppressing me!” Her voice climbed, deliberately, maliciously, surely rattling the quiet house. “You started this, Jeff, so I’ll finish it!”

A red haze descended over Jeff’s vision. His ears roared, a primal anger ignited within him, threatening to consume his every last shred of control. Every instinct screamed at him to retaliate, to lash out at the cruel, mocking figure before him. But deep down, a thin thread of his broken resolve held. He pushed back his chair, the screech of metal on tile a deafening cry in the oppressive silence. He rose, slowly, deliberately, turning to face Jean, a chilling, almost predatory glint entering his eyes. “Boo!” he bellowed, a sudden, guttural roar that ripped through the quiet. Jean froze, her triumphant smirk dissolving into pure, unadulterated terror. Her eyes widened, a high-pitched yelp escaping her lips. She didn’t hesitate, scrambling backward, then turning and bolting up the stairs, a blur of panicked movement disappearing into the shadows of her room.

‘To think,’ Jeff murmured to himself, the ghost of a humorless chuckle escaping him. ‘A simple scare, and the witch is gone.’ The bitter taste of a hollow victory filled his mouth. ‘Guess that tactic actually works.’ But the fleeting satisfaction did little to ease the crushing weight in his chest, leaving him utterly alone, swallowed by the profound and silent sadness of his broken world.

---

The sterile fluorescent lights of the school’s dining hall cast a harsh glow on Monday morning. Despite the chatter of other students, a heavy quiet enveloped Jacqui and Jeff as they picked at their lunches. Their conversation, hushed and intense, revolved around the raw, still-bleeding wound of Jeff’s breakup with Riley the day before.

“I still can’t quite grasp that it’s over between us, bes,” Jeff murmured, his voice flat, devoid of its usual energy, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. Jacqui, ever the optimist, tried to offer a sliver of hope. “Maybe he didn’t mean it that way. Maybe he’s just going through something. You should try to understand him.”

“How can I understand him?” Jeff retorted, a bitter edge creeping into his tone. “He broke up with me! Just like that.”

“Well, why don’t you try to win him back?” Jacqui suggested, a faint, almost giddy smile touching her lips. “Maybe he just wants some attention from you, a little bit of tender loving care. You know, like he’s just looking for a bit of spoiling.”

Jeff looked at her, his brows furrowed in confusion. “So what exactly am I supposed to do?”

“You know where his house is, right?”

“Yeah, of course. Why?”

“Bring him some food, or maybe some sweets,” Jacqui chirped, her excitement growing. “I’m telling you, it’ll smooth things over, and you two will be back together in no time.” She leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes twinkling. “That’s exactly what she did for me yesterday, when we had our fight. She brought me chocolates.”

“Who?” Jeff asked, a sudden thought striking him. “Althea?”

“Yes, silly! Who else would I be talking about?”

“No one, I guess…” Jeff mumbled, a fresh wave of anxiety washing over him. “But what if he’s not happy about it? What if this just pushes him further away, and we break up for good?”

Jacqui rolled her eyes, her patience clearly wearing thin. “You are such a pessimist, honestly. Just agree! We’re going to your Riley’s house. Right now.” And with that, she pushed her chair back, ready to pull Jeff into action whether he liked it or not.

---

At that same moment, a world away from the bustling school, Riley sat on the wrought-iron terrace of his family home in Iloilo City, his gaze listless, fixed on the distant figures passing by their gate. The humid air of the early afternoon offered little comfort.

“You guys broke up. So, what’s your plan now?” The voice beside him, gentle and concerned, belonged to Fred.

Riley sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just rest for a while. Just… breathe.”

Fred’s hand found Riley’s, his touch warm and reassuring. “Why? I’m here for you, you know. I love you.” The confession hung in the air, a tender offering.

“Thanks,” Riley replied, squeezing Fred’s hand lightly. “Thanks for everything. Honestly, my problems disappear for a while when you’re here.” He looked at Fred, a profound sadness in his eyes. “But Fred, I’m just not ready yet. I still love Jeff. I don’t want you to be just a rebound, a stand-in for someone else.”

“It’s okay if I’m just a rebound,” Fred insisted, his voice unwavering. “Just love me, Riley. That’s all I ask.”

“I don’t know, Fred. I’m not ready yet.” Riley finally turned his head fully, his gaze meeting Fred’s, a silent battle raging in his eyes.

Slowly, carefully, Fred leaned forward from his seat, his lips drawing closer to Riley’s. It was a hesitant, almost fragile approach, yet Riley met him halfway, surrendering to the warmth, returning the kiss with a fervor that surprised them both. It was a kiss born of confusion, of longing, of a desperate need for solace.

Fred rose, pressing closer, and their kisses deepened, becoming more fervent, more desperate. Lost in the moment, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, Riley’s eyes, still half-open, drifted towards the street. And then he saw him.

Beyond the gate, a figure stood, etched against the afternoon light. It was Jeff, his face a mask of profound sorrow, tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes fixed on them, on their intimate embrace. The world seemed to tilt.

Riley pulled back abruptly, pushing Fred’s head away, the sudden movement breaking the spell. The image of Jeff, heartbroken and watching, was burned into his mind. He sprang from his seat, a sudden, desperate urge to chase after Jeff seizing him, to explain, to somehow undo what had just transpired. But Fred, quick to react, stepped in front of him.

“I’ll talk to him,” Fred volunteered, his voice steady, his eyes understanding. Riley hesitated, torn between his impulsiveness and the paralyzing guilt. He nodded, a single, decisive dip of his head. It was a silent, agonizing confirmation, giving Fred permission to step into the chasm that had just opened, to face the very person Riley had just betrayed.

---

Jeff stumbled away from Riley’s house, the image of what he’d witnessed searing his retinas, blurring the afternoon into a watery smear. Each hurried step was an attempt to outrun the pain, but it clung to him like a second skin. Then, a voice, sharp and unwelcome, sliced through his agony. “ Fred’s voice, breathless, stopped him cold.

He turned, the world tilting precariously on its axis. Fred stood there, looking unsettlingly composed for someone who had just raced after him. “Why?” Jeff choked out, his voice raw, ravaged.

“About what you saw just now…” Fred began, but Jeff cut him off, a bitter, broken laugh escaping his lips.

“…No. You don’t need to explain anything.” The scene replayed—Riley’s passionate response, the way Fred had pulled him closer. Tears, hot and stinging, welled up again, blurring Fred’s face into an indistinct shape. “So that’s why Riley had grown cold towards me. So that’s why…” The realization, though devastating, brought a twisted, agonizing clarity.

Fred, with unsettling calm, delivered the final, crushing blow. “Yes. You’re right. He’s falling in love with me again.” He paused, letting the words sink in, each one a nail hammered into Jeff’s already fractured heart. “It happened so fast, you know. It started with a kiss, then something happened between us. And then we became a couple. We realized we wanted to continue the love story we had paused before.”

A sob tore through Jeff, a ragged sound wrenched from the deepest part of his being. Yet, even through his anguish, a fragile, almost manic smile touched his lips. “I’m happy for both of you,” he managed, the words a bitter, transparent lie that tasted like ash in his mouth. “Happy because Riley found his forever.” The irony was a cruel, unbearable torment.

“Yeah, I know. Me too,” Fred replied, utterly oblivious to the storm raging within Jeff. “I also found my forever in him. We’re really lucky to have each other.”

“I hope you two stay together forever,” Jeff whispered, the words an incantation against his own despair, a desperate wish for a future he would never share. He wiped furiously at his eyes, then extended the bag of food he’d brought, the “menudo” now a symbol of his shattered hopes, a forgotten offering. “Please, just give this to him. Or you two can just eat it.”

“Thanks,” Fred said, taking the bag, his demeanor unchanged.

Jeff’s voice cracked, a final, heartbreaking plea emerging through his sobs, raw and vulnerable. “Fred? Please take good care of Riley ha. When he’s angry, just be quiet and give him time to cool down. When you think he’s okay, that’s when you should hug him tight. He really loves that. A warm hug.” Each piece of advice was a shard of his own lost intimacy, handed over to another.

Fred reached out, his hand clasping Jeff’s in a gesture of hollow comfort. “Thank you, Jeff. Thank you so much for understanding that Riley and I love each other. Don’t worry, I’ll follow your advice.”

“Thanks. Well, I’m leaving now.” Jeff pulled his hand away, the touch too much to bear, a fleeting connection severed.

“Alright. Take care. Don’t get into an accident,” Fred called after him, his voice echoing in the empty space Jeff left behind.

Jeff hurried towards the nearest jeepney stop, desperate to disappear, to vanish. As the vehicle pulled away, he buried his face in a handkerchief, the fabric quickly damp with his tears, the world outside a blur through his grief.

Back at the house, Fred found Riley still on the terrace, a ghost of his former self, restless and visibly agitated, his eyes mirroring a profound unease.

“Oh. How did it go?” Riley asked, his voice strained, thin with anxiety as his gaze searched Fred’s face for answers, for any shred of hope. “What did he say?”

Fred shrugged, a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips as he handed Riley the bag of food. “Nothing. He just gave this away.” The lie was delivered with chilling nonchalance, a casual cruelty.

“What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” Riley demanded, his confusion quickly morphing into suspicion, his voice rising.

“Nothing. He didn’t say anything because he doesn’t care about you.” Fred’s words were delivered like daggers, cold and precise.

“That’s not true, Fred. I know you’re lying.” Riley’s voice was barely a whisper, laced with desperate denial, his world already spinning.

“Oh, for goodness sake… whatever,” Fred mumbled, turning to go inside, feigning annoyance, but secretly relishing the turmoil he’d sown.

But Riley exploded. In a flash, he lunged, his hands seizing Fred’s shirt, shoving him with surprising force against the rough wood of the doorframe. Riley’s eyes, normally soft, were now ablaze with a terrifying, primal fury, as if he could devour Fred whole. “Tell me the truth, or I’ll smash your face in…!!”

“Chill out. Chill out, okay? Wait,” Fred gasped, his bravado crumbling, a deep, fearful breath rattling in his chest. The raw, untamed rage in Riley’s eyes was horrifying. He decided to abandon the pretense. “I told him we were together because we love each other. But he accepted it and just left.”

“What?! You told him that??” Riley’s voice was incredulous, a strangled cry of disbelief, pain, and dawning horror. “Yes. Isn’t it true that we love each other?” Fred pushed, a calculated risk, seeking to cement his victory.

“Are you out of your mind?! I don’t love you! I love Jeff. He’s the one I love!!” Riley’s voice was a furious roar, echoing across the terrace, a desperate confession, too late.

“You love him?” Fred retorted, his voice dropping to a low, cutting tone, designed to inflict maximum pain. “He’s your brother, Riley. No matter what you do, even if you kill me right now because of your love for him… it won’t erase the fact that you’re brothers.”

The words struck Riley like a physical blow, a bolt of lightning from a clear sky. His hands, still clenching Fred’s shirt, slowly went limp, releasing their grip as if drained of all strength. He stared, stunned into a horrifying silence, his mind reeling. Then, a chilling realization dawned, cold and stark, solidifying the nightmare. “You planned this?? All your flirting with me. Your sudden return to my life. That kiss just now because you knew Jeff was there? To take advantage of my weakness…? Huh?! Answer me!!” The questions were spat out, laced with venom.

Fred’s composure cracked, replaced by a defensive defiance, a sneer twisting his lips. “Yes!! I admit I took advantage of your weakness because I knew you and Jeff were over. But I didn’t plan for you two to be siblings. Maybe… destiny just made a way for you to be together.”

“You’re so evil…” Riley seethed, his voice a low growl of pure, unadulterated hatred. “You’re truly despicable. Get out. I never want to see you again…”

“I’m really leaving,” Fred declared, turning and walking towards the gate, his voice now laced with a cold, cutting contempt. “The thing I hate most is a hurtful person. Maybe it’s just right that Jeff left you for good because of your attitude..!”

Enraged, consumed by a blinding fury, Riley grabbed the nearest chair, a heavy wrought-iron piece, and hurled it with all his might towards Fred. But Fred was already too far, disappearing through the gate, vanishing from his life as completely and permanently as Jeff had just moments before. Riley was left alone, surrounded by the shattering echoes of his own ruin.

---

Meanwhile, the bustling sounds of the schoolyard seemed to mock Jeff as he trudged back, each step heavy with an unseen burden. His eyes, swollen and red-rimmed, were a testament to the raw pain that had just torn through him. It wasn’t long before Jacqui, perched on a sun-warmed bench, spotted her friend’s approaching figure. Her heart ached at the sight of his defeated posture, and a wave of concern washed over her.

Springing to her feet, Jacqui moved swiftly, meeting Jeff halfway. Without a word, she enveloped him in a warm, comforting hug, pulling him close as if to absorb some of his anguish. “Shhh… Stop crying, bes,” she whispered, her voice a soft balm against his shattered resolve.

But Jeff’s grief was too profound to be easily silenced. His words, choked with tears, tumbled out in a desperate torrent. “I want to die,” he sobbed into her shoulder. “I don’t want to live anymore. I just want this pain to disappear.”

Jacqui gently pulled back, her hands cupping his face, forcing him to meet her gaze. “What are you even saying, bes? What happened? Tell me everything.”

A fresh wave of tears welled in Jeff’s eyes. “That’s why… that’s why he’s been so cold to me,” he choked out, the realization still a fresh wound.

“What do you mean?” Jacqui pressed, her voice laced with urgency. “Spit it out!”

“He has someone else, Jack. He loves Fred,” Jeff confessed, his voice barely a whisper, the name tasting like ash in his mouth. He clung to his friend, the raw confession tearing at him anew. “That’s why I felt something off about Fred from the very first time we met.” A deep, shuddering sigh escaped him, laden with the weight of belated understanding.

Jacqui said nothing, her own heart aching for her friend. Instead, she simply held him, her hand moving in gentle, rhythmic strokes across his back, a silent promise of support in the face of his heartbreak. She knew words were futile in the immediate aftermath of such pain; only presence and comfort would do.

Minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity, the silence punctuated only by Jeff’s ragged breaths as he slowly, agonizingly, composed himself. Finally, the storm within him began to subside. They settled back onto the bench, the worn wood a familiar comfort, and Jeff, with a newfound, fragile calm, recounted every excruciating detail of the betrayal to Jacqui.

“It hurts, bes. It truly does,” Jacqui said softly, her voice filled with a quiet sympathy that bordered on indignation.

She felt a surge of anger towards Riley, a silent curse forming on her lips. “But you have to accept that his heart belongs to someone else now.” She shook her head, a hint of exasperation in her tone. “Men, honestly… whether they’re straight or gay. Sometimes you just want to knock some sense into them!”

“It’s just so hard to accept, Jack. I love him so much,” Jeff confessed, the admission a raw ache in his chest. Q “You love him, yes, but he loves someone else. Not you,” Jacqui countered gently, her words a necessary dose of harsh reality. “You know, what you need is to find someone who will not only love you back but whom you can love just as deeply.”

Jeff looked at her, a flicker of despair in his eyes. “Where would I even find someone like that?”

Jacqui smiled, a small, hopeful gesture. “I don’t know, bes. But you just have to wait. I’m sure there’s someone out there, just waiting to find you.”

To be continued…