Chapter 1

Not many people walk down the streets of New York drunk especially in the middle of the day. They usually rush along and across the streets trying to race with time to earn more money.

But not Cassandra.

She was taking her precious time wandering around, struggling to walk in a straight line.

Trying to keep her smile to herself, she looked around her, wondering why these people wore blurry, poker faces as they talked on their phones while walking briskly down the street. She was thankful she was self-employed—well, as what she would call it.

Cassandra took a deep breath, the taste of beer still lingering in her mouth. She had been drinking since lunch time for no apparent reason. She just felt like drinking. She squeezed her eyes for a better vision as she slowly walked while trying hard not to drop on the ground every time a passerby bumped into her with their darting eyes and wrinkled nose as they took her state and smell. She felt her way to the wall and leaned against it, breathing heavily. She shouldn’t have drank that much, she thought. Her hands were getting numb, her feet losing their strength .

I’m going to faint right here if I don’t find somewhere to rest , she thought. Hope abandoned her when she saw the long crowded street. Even her blurred sight was a hindrance. She knew the street very well and she was pretty aware that there was not a place to rest.

Fine, anywhere will do then . Squinting one eye, she walked toward the nearest store and dropped on the bottom step, trying to keep her head high. If she dropped it any lower, she’d definitely puke right there and then. Her phone started ringing again. She didn’t answer. She knew it was her father and he had been asking to see her since last week. She thought she should call him tomorrow, once she was back to her sober self just to get it over with.

Cassandra didn’t have a problem—really, she didn’t. She was just like that. She did anything that came to her mind without thinking. When she had ordered her first bottle, she reasoned she wanted to celebrate her upcoming exhibit. When the second one came, she thought she was celebrating life. On the succeeding bottles, thoughts of celebration flew out the window.

She stood up after her head cleared a little bit. She needed a cup of coffee, and she knew just the place for a perfect one. The rest must have done something good for she found it less difficult to find her way to the coffee shop.

“My head is throbbing, I need a strong one,” she told the lady at the counter the moment she entered the shop. The usual people who would line up for their daily dose of caffeine were long gone and back on the streets. It seemed that Cassandra was the only customer after the morning rush.

“What would you like?”

Cassandra looked up at the menu, the letters merging into one. “Just…fix me something strong.”

“Okay, one really strong and very black Americano coming up,” the lady said with a smile.

She fumbled in her purse for some coins, handed the lady a handful and said, “Just get the exact amount. I have trouble counting at the moment,”

The lady looked at her curiously but did as she asked. She handed Cassandra the rest of the coins and said, “I’ll serve you your coffee if you want.” She must have noticed her customer struggling to stay on her feet.

“Thanks. That will be great…” Cassandra went to the nearest table and made herself comfortable, resting her chin on her hand. Her lids were drooping but she had to stay alert. She still had to go home after all. But her lids closed anyway, desperate for a good sleep.

“Cassandra Anders?” a male voice said over her.

“Hmm?” was all she could muster. She sensed some movement across the table from her and when she peered through her heavy lids, she noticed that a man was sitting at the once empty chair facing her.

“I’m Philip Strindberg. I have something to discuss with you.”

“Come back at a good time,” she slurred and closed her eyes once again.

“Now is the best time.” The voice was now etched with irritation so she opened her eyes once again to look at the man, her gray blue ones meeting his blue ones—or maybe they weren’t blue but she didn’t care at the moment.

“Best time for what?” she asked, not really in the mood for a chat.

“To give you an offer you surely won’t resist.”

He looked completely serious that she snorted. “And what is that?” If this man was out early in the morning to read her passages from the bible because of her drunken state, she didn’t know if she could deal with him properly without being a bitch.

“To be my wife.”

The alcohol that had been flowing like crazy through her veins stopped and drained down her head as she looked at the handsome stranger in disbelief.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Hi!

If you are new to my works, you may want to know that I now focus mainly on historical romance stories for a couple of years now. If you enjoy works like Bridgerton, feel free to hop into the worlds of the Town and Sutherland!

All my stories (and the series they belong to) can be found on the Reading Lists on my profile. 

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/b77386a6a1b41a8f33c4f64d7319748d45ee0d36/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f74324e536b645a76776b43782d413d3d2d313233313331382e313638333735343939636336663833613237333235353033373736302e706e67)

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/b1042724b0c383a636abf387822c24aaf95f8e12/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f6b334378665554364874644352773d3d2d313233313331382e313638333735346462666234393365623639303238313631393935332e706e67)

Enjoy!

J.D. Ruiz

Chapter 2

“Let me tell you something you may not know, Mister,” Cassandra tried very hard to spit out each word separately, with a few decent milliseconds interval. “You don’t play funny pranks on drunken women.”

He peered down at her, his blue eyes narrowed. She was in an awkward position with her upper arms resting on the table, her lower ones framing both sides of her face, and her hands lazily making motions over her head as she spoke.

“You’re drunk?” his voice asked with disbelief.

She gave out a throaty laugh and buried her face down her arms. “Oh god, you’re such an idiot,” she said, her voice muffled by her limbs. She was almost kissing the cold table.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” she answered, lifting her head once more to glance up at him with squinted eyes. “Please find someone else to propose to because I’m not just up to it. If this is a part of a television program where you have hidden cameras somewhere, give me a freaking talent fee or get lost.”

He was about to speak up when her coffee arrived. She gave her thanks to the lady who hastily left to go back to the counter. She savored the feeling of warmth the hot liquid offered when she took a careful sip.

“As I’ve said before, I’m here to talk to you,” the stranger said once again—this time with a forceful, patient tone.

Her vision was getting clearer now and she had time to study the man. She straightened on her chair looking at the quite handsome creature in front of her. She guessed he must be in his early thirties, his hair was brown and everywhere—it was like messy but not at all because it gave him a rugged-clean look. His nose was just perfect and his lips were just plain edible. His divided chin was cleanly shaven she could even smell his aftershave. Overall, his rugged face and his formal attire—dark blue tie and black coat—gave off an aura of power and confidence. She scratched the preacher guess and went with the television host. But if this was a crazy show, she didn’t want to be a part of it.

“What? About marriage?” she said with a chuckle, finally remembering what he said earlier about some offer he had for her. “Nah-uh, not gonna happen.”

“Really? But I was just being nice earlier when I said I have something to offer you because in fact, you don’t really have a choice.”

“What do you mean I don’t have a choice? And what’s your name again?” She leaned on her arms. He was acting way too cool for a TV show host.

“Philip Strindberg,” he answered. The name vaguely sounded familiar but Cassandra did not have enough time to assess it further as the man leaned forward, their faces were inches apart, and added, “And yes, you don’t really have a choice. The contract is sealed.”

Cassandra’s face contorted in confusion. The coffee finally had its effect for her vision cleared instantly. She looked around. There were no cameras. They must have hidden them really well. But the man was looking really serious. “Wait, stop right there. What contract?”

Philip Strindberg smiled in contentment upon seeing her reaction and leaned back against his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “A contract your father signed before we made the deal,” he said with an expectant look on his face.

Okay, maybe this was not a TV show after all. “My father? Deal? What are you talking about? And how did you know my father?” That time a rush of panic and doom started to rise up her gut. The mention of her father made her realize that the man sitting in front of her may not be playing some kind of prank. “What deal?” she repeated.

For a moment Cassandra saw confusion flash across his face before he covered it with his arrogant mien and a more arrogant shrug. “We are business… partners.” He paused to gauge her reaction and sighed. “Considering the look on your face, you have no idea.” When she did not utter a word, he shrugged once again. “Your father and I stumbled into a very good bargain, one that will benefit us both,” he said. “In exchange for my help , he offered you as my transient wife while he works out how to actually pay me back.”

That did not really register as quickly as it was meant to be. The words seemed to travel through the air in slow motion until they crept inside her ears and were processed by her brain. And when she finally decoded the message her jaw dropped and her mind tried to deny the information. Denial was fast to disappear because a sudden burst of anger flared up and she cried, “Hell no! That’s absurd!” She started to get up, leaving her coffee and the crazy handsome man.

He stopped her by grabbing her wrist, pulling her back toward him, his eyes dangerously intimidating. “As I’ve said, you don’t have a choice here,” Philip said quietly, anger edged in his voice.

She snapped her head down at him, almost cursing herself because it hurt like hell what with the alcohol still lodged in her brain, and with her piercing eyes she said, “I don’t have anything to do with my father’s business, never took interest before and never will so let me go.”

“Yes, that’s true, otherwise you would have known of his long business dilemma.” He met her eyes and tightened his grip instead of letting go. “But I’m sure you don’t want your father in jail, do you?”

“I am sure that whatever deal you had with my father was illegal. Let me get sober so I could search for a law book or something and then I’ll get back to you. This is the twentieth century, dude. You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not. And it is the twenty-first. It is currently the twenty-first century,” Philip answered quickly. Cassandra ignored him and he took the opportunity to continue, saying, “If you want, you can call your father now. I’m sure he’d be glad to fill you in with the details. I was not expecting to meet an ignorant fiancée today, if I must be honest. Anders should have told you.”

She pulled at her hand but he was strong. “Let me go.”

“Not until you agree to listen to me.”

“I don’t have to listen to any stupid things you have to stay.”

“Even if it means saving your father from shame and years in prison?”

“Oh my god, I hate you already.”

A forced smile curled his lips. “I get that a lot.”

“I’ll pay you. I have some money left in savings.”

He looked at her with—what was that look on his face? Pity? Because it appeared as such to Cassandra. Did he pity her for being ignorant of all this?

He shook his head and said, “I don’t think you have that much to pay back the amount your father borrowed from me. I made the contract for a reason, Cassandra. As you may very well see, I don’t need more money.” He looked at her intently. “I need a wife. And your father already signed for it. All I just have to do now is claim it.”

“What do you need a wife for?” she asked incredulously. Maybe she had too much to drink and she was just hallucinating. Oh god, this is just plain crazy.

“I have my reasons,” he shrugged his shoulders as he spoke. “But I’m not telling you that. Please sit down,” he urged gently but strongly at the same time.

“No, I’m leaving.”

“If you leave, I’ll have no choice but to drag you back to your chair and strap you to it. And don’t think I’m joking.” There was something in the way he said it that made Cassandra believe every word. Reluctantly, she stomped back to her chair and sat down in a huff. “Good. Glad to know we understand each other.”

“No, you threatened me. Please go on and let’s get this over with so I can go to the nearest police station and have you arrested.”

He must have disregarded her last statement because he started his speech. “First, I would like to apologize for—”

“Apology not accepted,” she cut in. “Now, please go on to the next topic.”

Philip took a deep breath, obviously trying to calm his rage and did as what she said. “As I’ve said, your father and I signed a contract that the moment I transfer the money to his business account, I will have you in return.” He held up his hand when she opened her mouth. “Let me finish. In the contract, we agreed that the moment the business is back on its feet you will be free to leave.”

She raised her hand, her eyes questioning. Understanding what she meant, he gave a curt nod and she said, “How long does the moment the business is back on its feet exactly means?”

“The contract holds until six months,” he informed formally, like he was reporting for some business associates. “Of course it will start at the day of the marriage.” She could see something else behind his gaze but he was good at covering it up. She knew there was something more to this arrangement.

“And if I don’t marry you?”

“Simple,” he placed his hand flat on the table near her now cold coffee. “Your father will lose his business and end up with a bunch of legal problems. If you consult your law book, you will know all about them.”

He didn’t really have to say it twice because even though she didn’t have any knowledge of business, she was very well aware that a written legal contract was just plain legal, ergo paying a great deal of price if you breach it. But this contract was illegal in any layman’s eyes. She knew it was! But the thought that her father did it anyway with this man was unbelievable.

But she didn’t doubt that her father would do anything for his dear business though. And right now, she really wanted to fly to wherever he was and claw on his face for going too far. How could he do such a thing to his own daughter? His own flesh and blood? His little darling , as what he always says?

“I haven’t heard of your name before. My father talks about his associates. Your name never came up.”

Philip Strindberg shrugged. “We do not really work very closely. Our business is entirely of a different nature.”

Cassandra’s nostrils flared as she tried to suppress her frustrations. “A different nature. Great. What? Illegal? Are you a loan shark?”

He chuckled. “You might want to Google the name, Cassandra.”

Cassandra groaned. She was almost sure she would find nothing but good about this man. She knew his name sounded familiar but she could not just point out where she heard it.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?”

“No, you’re not. It’s as real as can be.”

“Oh my god,” she dropped her head in defeat. As much as she wanted to kill her father, she didn’t want him to lose the business he had worked his sweat and blood for and she definitely didn’t want him in jail! Her mother would die with just the thought! “Please, let this be a dream.”

Philip chose to ignore her emotional display and continued, “You go talk to your father about this. I’m sure he would want to explain before the wedding.”

She snapped her head up once again. “Wedding…when…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish the question.

“Two days from now,” was his straight answer. With that, Philip Strindberg stood up and looked down at her. “And please, don’t try to run away, Cassandra.”

The warning he left her before walking away rang through her brain over and over again. Still in a daze, she looked down at her half-empty cup of coffee, trying to think of every possible thing she could do to get through the mess her father had willingly put her in.

---

Philip climbed into his car and grabbed his phone, the frown on his face still apparent as he placed it against his ear.

“It’s done. You better make sure you have that divorce paper at the ready.”

“Win-win situation, Philip, remember?” the voice from the other line said.

His lips formed a tight, sardonic smile. “You and Anders have more to gain from this than I do. This is the last one, Bell.”

“Yes, of course,” his friend uttered before the line went dead.

Chapter 3

“Dad, where the hell are you?” Cassandra tried real hard not to shout louder. She almost stumbled down the street, struggling with her bag and last bit of intoxication. “Yes, of course I already know! No, I’m going right where you are so you better tell me where, or I’ll get on the next plane out of this city. No, this can’t wait until tomorrow, dad! For heaven’s sakes you set me up to be married in two days’ time! That’s just bullshit!” A mother walking beside her covered her son’s ears at Cassandra’s last word. She ignored the blazing gaze of the woman, too busy listening to the address her father was giving her. Without much of a goodbye, she clicked off and made her way to the restaurant.

---

She would have loved to paint her Kurt Anders’ features the moment she saw him, but she was just not in the mood. He was not his usual confident self right now. He looked like he was almost scared and that was the reason why she would have loved to put that face on canvas—but no time to think about that now because she was too furious at the old man. Cassandra stormed across the restaurant, her face fuming in anger. As she made her way to where her father stood before a white clothed table with wine glasses, she deliberated whether she should give herself into the earlier urge to claw on his face.

Of course, she didn’t. He was old and fragile and perspiring a lot it would be a crime to dig her fingernails into his wrinkled skin. Her father’s gray-blue eyes which looked exactly like hers stared at her anxiously as she stopped outside his personal space, arms crossed over her chest.

She tapped her booted foot on the floor twice and waited for an explanation, not bothering to verbally demand it.

“Darling, let’s sit down first.” Kurt Anders motioned at the chair beside her. She looked around and saw that some customers were looking at them curiously, their utensils halfway through their mouths. Still glaring, she felt for the chair and sat down stiffly. Her father did the same. “What would you like to eat?”

“Why? You’ll hand me as payment for food?” She saw him flinch with her comment and she almost regretted it. Tucking her blond tresses behind one ear, she tried to calm herself.

“Cassy, darling, please understand—”

“I’m trying to understand, dad, but I just can’t,” she snapped at him. “How can you do that to me, your own daughter? Why?”

“I am desperate!” he said, holding up his hand, “And Philip was kind enough to help me when no other people would! And…” his voice started to falter and Cassandra thought that he was hiding something. “Cassy, just do this for me, please.”

Anger rose up her throat again. “Philip Strindberg is kind? How is that kind, dad? He asked for your own daughter and you gladly consented? Oh god, I thought mom was nuts—but you?” she shook her head in disbelief.

Her father opened his mouth to say something but he closed it again. He looked desperate and she wanted to demand for the truth he was hiding. When he spoke, his voice was gentle. “Darling, just listen to me. It’s only for six months. And why don’t you try it? You wanted to get married two years ago, right? Why not now?”

She gaped, not so sure if she was actually talking to her own father. “I can’t believe this. Is this about what happened two years ago? That’s it, isn’t it? Did mom talk you into this?”

“No, but it is part of the reason—”

“Goddammit, dad, you don’t have the right to marry me off just because of what happened two years ago!” She waved her hand for emphasis.

Her father closed his eyes as he took in her words. A small part of her could feel something was not right here but she couldn’t point it out. Her father wouldn’t be that stupid to give her away for some money because whichever way you would look at it, it was just completely illegal.

“Look what you’ve been doing since then! Your mother and I can’t see that you’re actually living a life with the way you’re going through it right now. Philip might be the answer. He’s a good man—”

“You mean a good businessman because he was able to talk you into giving me away as payment!”

“Consider it collateral, Cassy.”

“This is still very illegal whatever term you use! Or is there something else that you are not telling me?”

Her father’s eyes flickered in panic for a moment but he recovered and said, “Darling, just listen for a second, okay? I did it to save our company. It’s your own future.”

“Don’t try to turn this around me, dad. You did it to save your precious company and I don’t want any of it.”

“But someday you will.”

“Yeah. Maybe. After all I paid for it!”

“Okay, I know this is absurd, but I also thought how you might feel that’s why I insisted the contract only last for six months. You can get out of your marriage by the time—that is if you would still want to.”

She laughed sarcastically, getting the attention of the people around them once again. “You really planned it so well, didn’t you? It is just like making a strategic plan for your damn business. You knew from the start that I would not let you go in jail.”

“Cassy, please, I did it for you and your mother.” There it was again. The desperation. He was definitely hiding something. If there was anything in the world he cared so much about, it was her and her mother.

“Does she know about this? Did she urge you to do it?” She would not have been surprised if he said yes because that was just her mom, but he surprised her by shaking his head no. She frowned. Her father always told his wife almost everything. Why the sudden secrecy and the marriage? Not a cell in her body believed what her father had said earlier. Something must have happened. And it must have been bad.

“No, she doesn’t have any idea, so please don’t tell her. I want her to feel happy knowing you’ll be tying the knot soon. You know how she felt about what happened two years ago.”

It was in that very moment that Cassandra realized that her dad was really desperate to make ends meet when he signed the contract with Philip Strindberg. Though she would love to leave him and go as far away as she could, she knew she could never do that. Her dad had been the first person to approach her when she needed someone the most. He had been there through her grief and always was—until he signed the damn contract. Whatever his reason was, she intended to find out.

“What does Philip Strindberg really want anyway? Of all things, why me? He is not desperate to have a wife, is he?”

“He said he has his reasons. But don’t worry; I made him promise that he won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do once you two are married.”

“Did you sign on it too?” she asked sarcastically.

Her father sighed. “No, but I take Philip’s word. He’s one of the people I trust the most.”

“Yeah right, I believe you in that. You even trusted him with your own daughter.” She knew her father was already suffering with her sarcastic remarks, but she just couldn’t help it.

He reached out to hold her hand on the table and squeezed it. “You’ve been through a lot, Cassy, I know that. But it’s been two years. It’s time you move on and take a plunge. Consider this marriage with Philip as a new start. Who knows, he might be the right one—”

“Dad, in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t really have so much of a choice here so stop with the crap about moving on. I’ve moved on. In fact, I would be ready for a new start—but not this way,” she snapped, but did not hold back her hand. “Okay, I’ll do this not because I want to—I want you to remember that— I’m doing this to save your ass. And I know you are keeping the real reason why you suddenly signed a contract to turn me into a wife.” She saw the panic in her father’s eyes once again and she knew she was right. “But whatever that damn reason is, it better be worth this shit I’ll be into, dad. It better be worth it.”

That was enough for him and he nodded slowly, smiling faintly in relief.

“I’ll go now. I need to have some time to think and get my head back together. I don’t know if I am in the right century where women have gained their rights in society and family. I must have stumbled into some kind of a time warp somewhere and I might be lucky to go back to the present once I get the hell out of here.” She took her hand from her father’s and stood up. He made a motion to stand up, but she stopped him. “No, I don’t need a lift. I want to walk.”

“Will you tell your mom?” he asked with fear. She almost laughed. Knowing her mom, the old lady would jump in joy to learn that her daughter would soon tie the knot whatever the reason may be.

“No, dad, I’m not telling mom. Because I want you to suffer just a little bit knowing you’re hiding a little dirty secret from her. It’s close enough to prison as you can get. Forgive me for thinking that way, but I’m still angry for a lot of reasons and one of them is the fact that you cannot trust me with the truth. Instead, you chose to do the most horrendous thing to solve whatever problem you have. I hope you understand at least that. But no worries, I’m not running away. I’ll be in that wedding so no need to check on me. See you there. And tell mom not to bother inviting any of my friends. None at all.” With that, she turned and walked out the restaurant. She didn’t want to look back, knowing she’d see the hurt on his face. But she was hurting inside as well, so it was fair enough.

---

She walked down the streets of New York, feeling the breeze of the ending spring and wishing she would die and wither with the flowers by the end of the season. How wonderful would that be?

Her phone rang and vibrated inside her bag; she fumbled for it and frowned at the unregistered number appearing on the screen.

Maybe it was one of her clients. “Cassandra Anders,” she answered.

“This is Philip Strindberg,” the oh-so-familiar voice said from the other side.

“Oh, great, my future six-month husband,” she said dryly. “To what do I owe the honor of this call?” At the back of her mind, Cassandra was asking, What fucking secret are you hiding, Mr. Strindberg?

“Dress for dinner this evening. I’ll be at your door by seven sharp. We’re having dinner with my family.”

“What dinner—” she did not have time to finish her question because he disconnected as soon as he said the word family.

Family.

Her face paled just a little bit. She grabbed her phone from her bag to follow the bastard’s suggestion and opened Google.

Strindbergs New York

, she typed and lo and behold there they were: The Strind-

fucking

-bergs.

Cassandra let out a mocking laugh, one mixed with horror and disbelief as she stared at her phone.

Of course she knew the Strindbergs, seen them on papers and magazines!

The face of Philip Strindberg himself was the first on Google images. There was no denying the bastard was who he said he was.

She scrolled through the countless photos of men and women in gowns posing for the photographers in different prestigious business events. The Strindbergs.

She had heard their name mentioned many times. Their status was not that of celebrities. They did not appear on reality TV shows or the likes. They were the kind of people the media simply have to mention to give a heavy weight on important events they cover.

Cassandra gulped. It did not occur to her that she would marry one of them. She stood frozen in the middle of the sidewalk, fear and anxiety running through every cell of her body when it finally dawned on her that she was marrying into one of the wealthiest families in the country.

How did her father ever managed to work with Philip Strindberg? How did his father, a man who manufactured plastics, got entangled with a family who owned countless corporations?

Her heart began to hammer against her chest as she stood frozen in the same spot. She stared at the family photo of the Strindbergs, swallowing the anxiety.

I am not ready to meet the clan yet! She shouted in her mind.

Chapter 4

“You didn’t tell her,” were Philip’s first words when Kurt Anders answered his phone.

“I never planned to. Cassandra will not talk, Philip. I know my daughter. But she is one hell of a curious individual. She will want to know everything if I tell her what you said I should and I do not want her to know everything .”

His jaw tightened. “And she is not curious enough now? She does not believe the crappy tale of an arranged marriage, Anders. We can get into more trouble if your daughter’s curiosity gets in the way.”

“Cassandra will most probably spend the entire six months inside a room with her canvas and paints. She has an exhibit coming up soon. She will be very busy. Before she starts to wonder about the hell she is in, it will be over and she won’t ever have to know about it. For now, you simply have to do what I asked you to do. We had a deal.”

“If she gets in trouble, it is not my fault.”

A long silence reigned from the other end. “Keep her safe and your friend gets everything.”

Philip shook his head. “And they know? About the marriage?”

“Yes, I relayed the news.”

“How did they take it?”

“You are asking if they are still watching you?” Philip did not reply and waited for Anders to continue. “Of course they are. You have to keep playing the game, Philip. We can’t have them doubting us both now.”

“No,” he said in a cold voice, “You keep playing the game, Anders, or we are both dead before we know it.”

“Of course, of course. Just keep marry my daughter, seal our family’s union and keep her safe. You are new to this game, but this is how things work. We make commitments beyond business.”

Philip shook his head. “Give your daughter a pep talk. I don’t want to babysit a child,” was all he said and he ended the call.

---

Cassandra didn’t really have anything to wear to an elegant dinner. Sure, she attended events and all, but that was before two years ago. Lately, she was just not into socializing and it was now a problem because all she could see inside her walk-in closet were just shirts—a lot of it—some tattered or paint-stained pants, shorts, boots, scarves, sweaters, and more of the same things but no dresses of any kind.

Out of desperation, she remembered her basement and ran all the way down barefooted. The boxes were still there—including the one that contained the white gown she never got to use. Trying her might not to look at the box where her worst memories had been hidden for years, she busied herself through the bigger brown boxes and finally found the one labeled DONATION: CLOTHES which she never got to hand out since she was still figuring out which charity would accept such clothes. Opening the box, she heaved a sigh of relief that the plastic coverings were still intact. She took a black evening dress which she only wore once, closed the box before she saw another one which would just create further confusion, and ran back upstairs. It was already six and she hadn’t showered yet. Smelling the dress, she contemplated for a moment, shrugged and went to grab her strongest perfume and sprayed some on the dress. Contented, she dropped the dress on her bed and looked for the pair of black pumps she got from her mom last Christmas, ones she never got to use.

After her shower, she dried her hair and did the usual hair and make-up, dressed, put on her diamond stud earrings and no other jewelries since they made her itch, and waited for her future

husband to ring her door. She doubted at first if he knew where she lived but remembered that he already got her phone number so why not her address?

As she waited slouched on one chair, she thought about her father and the real reason why he suddenly sold out his own daughter. He would never do that to her. She just knew it. Unless something bad happened , she thought. If her dad would not talk, Philip Strindberg better because there was no way she would let a stranger slip a ring around her finger without valid reasons.

Then a very strange thought came to her. What if the Strindbergs were part of the Mafia? It could very well be! What is this? Godfather IV? Did her father stumble into bad business with them and now they want to bind him to them through her?

But that could not be. Her father knew nothing but manufacture plastics! Plastics!

A knock on the door followed by the buzzing sound snapped Cassandra back to the present. Grabbing her black clutch and keys, she went to open the door.

“Are you ready?” he asked, looking her up and down. Consciously, she tugged her dress lower down her knees and looked him over. He didn’t look bad himself, dressed in black tuxedo and dark gray tie. Good thing he looks good, she thought to herself.

“Yes,” she replied dryly. “Do we really have to do this?” She did not want to meet his family who could be the freaking Mafia! What she really wanted to do was talk

“Of course. It’s the main reason why we’re getting married.”

She frowned. “Your family?”

“Yes,” he answered, blinking before she could figure out whether or not he was lying. And by that Cassandra was certain he was lying. “And don’t ask anything further. All you have to do is pretend you’re happy. That’s all they want to see.”

“Oh, so let me get this straight,” she said, feigning ignorance. “My dad had his own reason for selling me out and you have yours.” She peered at him and asked, “You’re not getting your share of the inheritance if you don’t marry, right?”

He looked at her incredulously. “That only happens in movies, my dear future wife. I want a wife so they’ll leave me alone.”

“That’s your only reason?” she cried. “That happens in movies too!”

“You don’t know my family,” he said, stepping back. Obviously, their conversation just ended. Why didn’t she believe him? The movies could make up better plots than this guy , she thought as she stepped out and locked her door. He led her down the path across her small lawn and to his black BMW.

She stopped dead on her tracks as he opened the passenger door.

“What’s wrong now?” he asked rather impatiently.

“I can’t ride shotgun,” she rapidly shook her head as she said it.

“Why?”

“I…” She couldn’t tell him the reason, and she never would. “I just can’t.”

“Look here, Cassandra. We don’t have time for your little games, alright? If you don’t want to go, you don’t really have a choice. My family is already waiting for us at the restaurant.”

She looked at him desperately. “No, it’s not that. I just can’t ride shotgun.”

He fixed her with a hard look for a long moment before exclaiming, “Fine!” He slammed the passenger door that caused her to flinch, and walked to open the backseat. “Get in. Now.”

“Thank you,” she muttered as she hastily climbed inside. Once again, the door slammed beside her and she saw him stride in anger to the driver side.

He did not say another word as he started the ignition and sped off. Cassandra leaned back against her seat and closed her eyes, clutching her small bag in front of her anxiously.

“Please, slow down. I can’t breathe,” she uttered when she couldn’t take it any longer.

The sudden brake of the car brought her forward and her head almost slammed against the backside of the passenger seat.

“What exactly is your problem with riding shotgun and fast cars?” he demanded, glaring back at her.

“Nothing…” she trailed off in a small voice. God, how she hated to be this vulnerable!

“Don’t tell me you have a phobia—”

“Yes, yes, that’s it,” she cut off, accepting the best explanation he offered.

“This is really crazy,” was all he said as he turned back and started down the road again, but in a more normal pace.

When her nerves began to calm down, she realized how Philip’s temper could be easily ignited. We’ll have a problem with that then, she thought considering her own temper.

“Your perfume is too strong,” he finally said as he stopped the car at red light, breaking their silence.

“What?”

“Your perfume is too strong,” he repeated, throwing her a glance over his shoulder.

Thank God for the darkness of the night, he couldn’t see her face flush in embarrassment. “I spilled half of the bottle on my bed and most of it went to my dress,” she lied. There was no way she was telling him her dress came out of a box from two years ago and the perfume was its savior.

He seemed to believe her because he did not say anything about her strong scent; instead, he changed the topic, “Free your day tomorrow.”

“Why?” she leaned forward to look at him. She planned to do some unfinished paintings tomorrow.

“In case I didn’t tell you, tomorrow is the day before the wedding and you don’t have a dress yet.”

“Why would I need a dress? I thought it would just be us and the judge and some witnesses?” It was what she really imagined after all.

“You’re marrying a Strindberg, Cassandra. They would never settle for a simple wedding.”

Cassandra gulped. “You mean I’m actually going down the aisle?” she asked in horror.

He looked at her through the rearview mirror as he started the car when the lights turned green. “My family thinks we’ve been planning this wedding for half a year now.”

“What!” she cried in disbelief. “You led your family to believe that you are going to be married a long time ago?”

“Not that long. I spilled the news a month ago, before I signed the contract with your old man.”

“You already gave them my name a month ago?”

“Yes, of course.” She saw him shrug his shoulders.

“You were so sure then that you would have a contract with my father? And how did you know about me a month ago?”

“I do my own research and planning. Stop asking questions. We better think of some story to tell my family.”

“What story?”

“Where we met, how we met, when and where I proposed…stuff like that,” he explained. “My grandmother is very specific with details and I’m sure she’d ask you a lot of questions sooner or later.” He reached inside his breast pocket and took out a piece of paper. He handed it to her.

She reached over to get it, “What’s this?”

“That’s pretty much everything you should know about me. Don’t worry about your profile—your father gave it to me.”

“Huh, wouldn’t be surprised about that at all,” she muttered as she dropped the paper inside her clutch bag without reading it. She had all evening later to go through it. She could just pretend to know Philip later in front of his family. Or she could just keep her mouth shut and act all shy. It was her first time to meet them after all. “So, about our story ?”

“Yes, the story,” he said, remembering their original topic. “I told them we met through a mutual friend at a party in Chicago, talked, dated for almost two years but only that I kept it a secret from them until now; I proposed in Paris last year, you said yes, and now we’re getting married in two days.”

She took some time to take it all in and finally asked, “Tell me more about the proposal.”

“Why?”

“People always want to know every detail of the proposal,” she said, her voice telling him that he of all people should know that.

“You add the details. That’s all I told my family and so far, they accepted it.”

“Of course they accepted it because they always ask the bride about the proposal, not the groom.”

“Then what do you suggest the proposal was?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. I was not there.”

“Neither was I.”

“But you thought of it. Not really my problem if this little story of ours gets jumbled up.”

He sighed. “Fine. I proposed inside a café, the ring was mixed in your ice cream, you got it, your cried, said yes, the people clapped with glee and that was it.”

“I cried? No, that can’t be. I just laughed with joy, no crying.”

“Fine, you laughed with joy, teary-eyed.”

“What’s with the tears? No, no tears. I was just plain happy and laughed and my eyes were dry.”

He shook his head. “My grandmother’s not gonna like that. She’d prefer you cried.”

Of course. How did it ever cross her mind? He had a grandmother. A Mafia grandmother, a voice in her head whispered.

Shaking her thoughts away, she snapped, “I don’t really care, okay? I didn’t cry. Period.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” she snapped back.

---

The moment they reached the restaurant, he ordered her to get out of the car in a hurry before anyone saw her climbing out of the back of the car which she hastily obliged, glad to finally be able to have her feet back on solid ground.

“Let’s go,” he said as he approached her after he handed his key to the valet. He grabbed her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. “Smile and pretend to be happy,” he said.

“Why?”

“So my family will leave me in peace until the wedding,” he said, leading her inside the elegant restaurant that glittered with wine glasses and furnished with rich dresses and smart tuxedos.

Cassandra’s heart began to hammer against her chest as they approached a group of three people—one man and two women—on the far side of the room. Soft jazz music played in the background and it somehow helped to calm her hyperactive nerves.

“Oh, thank god you’re here,” an old lady wearing a gray sequined dress turned to them.

Doesn’t look like a family of an organized crime, Cassandra thought. In fact, they simply looked like an elegant bunch. They looked vaguely familiar, their faces she had passed through in the papers and magazines and her earlier Google searches.

Cassandra readied her smile, trying her might to remember that it should reach her eyes. If there was anything else in the world she knew what to do, it was to fake happiness. The whole group of beautiful faces turned at their direction, their eyes expectant.

Cassandra looked at Philip at one corner of her eye and realized he was smiling like crazy that she almost snorted. His left hand went to cover her hand that was clutching the crook of his arm and she realized how tense she was. She relaxed her hold when she felt his warm hand over hers.

“This is Cassandra Anders. Cass, this is my family,” Philip spoke with a touch of joy in every word it was almost believable to her ears. He was a really good actor!

“Hi,” she beamed at the group. Organized crime clan or not, Cassandra figured it was not good to piss her future transient family.

“Sit down, you two!” the old lady with grayish hair spoke once again, motioning her hand toward the two empty seats beside her. Once seated, she looked at Cassandra admiringly with glimmer in her eyes, “You’re as beautiful as Philip said.” Cassandra looked at Philip with fake amusement and he just shrugged, looking at everyone around with a look that said I told you so. “I’m Hope, Philip’s grandmother,” the old lady continued and looked at the man across the long table seated at the other end, “that’s William.”

Cassandra just smiled. Why did she never read those articles about the Strindbergs? It would be of great help now.

“Her husband,” the old man said with mock dryness, but his eyes were lovingly looking at his wife. He transferred his gaze to her with a warm smile and added, “It’s good to finally meet you, my dear. Philip has been keeping you a secret from all of us.”

She didn’t really know how to answer that, but Philip obviously already thought of it because he said to her, “I already told them that you have been flying in and out of the country for years until now.” His voice was so gentle she almost doubted if the man sitting beside her, holding her hand on the table was the same one who shouted at her outrageous behavior in the car.

“Yes.” She cleared her throat and continued, “I’ve been quiet busy.”

There was a short pause before the beautiful lady sitting across her finally grabbed her moment to say, “In case anyone forgot about me, I’m still here.” She smiled contentedly. Her blue eyes told Cassandra who she was. “I’m Mary, Philip’s mother. I’m so glad to finally put a face with the name, my dear.”

You could have tried Google, she thought. Her name, along with her works, was searchable online.

“Me too,” Cassandra answered, couldn’t help but smile genuinely at the warm lady across her. “Philip has told me about you,” she looked around the table and added, “all of you.” Not that she was a pretty good liar, but you could say lying came to her naturally in moments like this. Two years was enough to teach her that.

“Well, why don’t we start our dinner and get to know each other better?” Hope’s cheerful voice said. And as if on cue, a waiter appeared carrying their food. “My dear,” she turned to Cassandra, “I hope you don’t mind. We made the honor of choosing the courses.”

“That’s okay, I eat almost anything,” she replied and chuckled with the group. She tried very hard not to sigh in relief. The Strindbergs were not bad at all! Mafia or not, of course, she added in her mind.

Well, except Philip who by the way was doing an amazing act on being the perfect gentleman by placing her own napkin on her lap and even showed some sweet performance by tucking some of her stray blond hair behind her ear that sent some unexpected tingling current through her body. His act must be paying off because his family was looking at them with so much contentment and joy that Cassandra almost felt bad about the charade. She was almost afraid about the questions they obviously had at the ready.

“Where’s Chanty?” her future husband asked the group once they started with their soup.

“You know your sister,” Mary rolled her eyes. “She’s always running late.”

“And I won’t be surprised if Angelica will be with her,” Hope added, her voice sour.

Who is Chanty? Who is Angelica? She should have memorized the profile he gave her earlier. But that was too late now. She had no other choice but smile as if she knew the names; as if she had spent hours hearing Philip talk about them.

Philip frowned beside Cassandra. “Why would Ange be here?”

“You know why,” his mother answered, and then her eyes flickered to Cassandra and she said, “But don’t worry, my dear, we’ll be here.”

Cassandra just smiled, no idea what they were talking about. Who is this Angelica?

And as if someone from above heard her question, two supermodels trotted across the room, apparently headed toward their direction. Now that Cassandra could clearly see them as they got nearer, they couldn’t be supermodels at all—they could be superstars from Hollywood—with their perfect hair and dresses and heels and legs. The shorter of the two must be Chanty because her hair was just the feminine version of Philip’s. She was dressed in a dark-blue silk dress that extended down her knee, emphasizing her blue eyes. The other girl—the taller one with red hair, Cassandra guessed, must be Angelica.

Everyone else on the table noticed the arrival of the two ladies and each one of them, with the exception of Cassandra’s awestruck face, had an expression ranging from disapproval to annoyance. Cassandra realized their eyes were focused only at Chanty’s companion and she wondered why. Again, as if her question was heard by the man upstairs, the answer came as fast as the question.

The red-haired girl with striking blue eyes and red dress walked directly toward Philip, saying, “Philip!” and without warning kissed him fully on the mouth while holding both sides of his face in her hands.

Cassandra’s eyes bulged and her jaw dropped along with her spoon.

Chapter 5

A sudden series of angry outbursts erupted around the table. Cassandra heard Mary gasp something like, “Outrageous!”; Hope uttered one like, “Insolent bitch,” or it might have been something else because Cassandra just couldn’t imagine Hope saying the word bitch; William Strindberg just said, “Oh Holy God…” and closed his eyes.

Cassandra on the other hand couldn’t really find the right words—after all, she didn’t really know what was going on. Thank goodness though that Philip was still in his senses because he grabbed the woman’s slender shoulders and pushed her away none too gently.

“What?” Angelica asked with amusement, oblivious of the six pairs of eyes throwing daggers at her.

“What do you think are you doing, Ange?” Philip snapped and his eyes instinctively searched Cassandra’s startled ones and said, “I’m sorry about that, sweetheart,” he frowned up at Angelica and continued, “Angelica here seems to have had too much to drink.” He reached for his wine and took a big gulp as if to erase the evidence of the woman’s drink .

“I…” Cassandra started but had no idea how to continue.

Angelica’s pretty head quickly turned down toward Cassandra with a frown. “So,” she staggered back on her heels in two tiny steps as she looked Cassandra over. “This is your little secret fiancée?” She turned to look at Philip like he was crazy and added, “I thought she’s like a goddess out of Homer’s tales and not some…” she looked back at Cassandra to emphasize her point, “witless—”

“That’s enough, Angelica,” Chanty interrupted, held her friend by the arms and turned toward the group around the table. “I’m sorry guys, I did not intend this to happen,” she turned to Cassandra and said, “I would have loved to meet you in a much better way, but…” she trailed off.

“Oh, come on, Chanty!” Angelica cried out, chuckling at her friend. “You can’t mean that!”

“Get her home,” William’s authoritative voice spoke from the head of the table.

“I can’t believe you brought her here in her condition, Chanty,” Mary said with disappointment.

“Mom, I’m sorry. She started drinking early. I didn’t want her to come but she insisted, saying she’d make a scene if I don’t let her,” Chanty apologized at the group, holding her friend tightly by the arms. “I’ll go get her home now.”

“That’s the best thing to do,” Hope nodded, looking at Angelica disapprovingly.

“No, I wanna have dinner with you guys—” Angelica started.

“No, Ange, go home,” Philip’s cold voice stopped her and Cassandra almost felt sorry for the poor lady.

“Let’s go, Ange,” Chanty ushered her friend backward, embarrassed with the attention they drew from the other guests in the restaurant. “I’ll make it up to you,” she said as goodbye to the group before turning her friend around.

“There’s still time to back out, Philip!” Angelica shouted over her shoulder just as Chanty dragged her out of the room.

The table was silent for a very long time.

“I lost my appetite,” Hope said, placing her napkin on the table.

Mary grabbed Cassandra’s hand across the table and squeezed it gently, “I’m sorry about that, dear. She’s not usually like that.”

Cassandra was not feeling sorry at all. She was actually feeling great. The dinner was coming to an end without a lot of effort from her part. “That’s okay—”

“Of course it’s not okay!” Hope fumed. “That girl needs some help.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” William shook his head slowly as he said that. “Ever since she lost her sister and mother…” his words trailed off as he shook his head.

“Angelica’s having problems of her own,” Mary disagreed. “She was once a sweet girl.”

“I think Cass is in shock,” Philip noticed, wiping his mouth with his napkin, “Maybe we should go home?”

“But the main course—”

“I don’t think anyone can continue with this dinner in the same energy as we started,” Philip interrupted his mother’s protest.

“Yes, I agree,” William nodded. “We can always set another one.”

“No,” Philip said too quickly, “I mean we can always have a blast at the wedding party, right?”

“We’ll reset a date tomorrow,” Hope said to her grandson.

“Tomorrow’s the day before the wedding and we have so many things to patch up,” he took Cassandra’s hand and smiled at his family, “I don’t want Cass getting tired.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Mary said with understanding, “Well then, see you at the wedding, my dear. And if you have any trouble tomorrow, don’t hesitate to call, okay?” she smiled warmly at Cassandra.

Cassandra tried to smile back—she had no idea what tomorrow’s schedule was—but thankfully, the group understood that she was not up to it as she was five minutes ago even though it was all just pretend. “Yes, okay, I’ll remember that. Thank you and see you,” was all she could muster before Philip guided her to stand up. She turned to William and Hope and gave them a small smile. It was awkward. Should she kiss them or hug them? Okay, fine, a smile was the safest.

“See you at the wedding, guys,” Philip said and they walked out of the restaurant hand in hand.

She snatched her hand back the moment she was sure they are out of sight and glared at her surprisingly handsome, crazy future husband.

“What?” he asked with irritation and faced her, their faces just inches apart it almost threw her back when she felt that same current flow through her again.

“What’s what?” Apparently, she was able to gather herself again despite everything that happened to her in one day.

“Is this about Angelica?” he asked. “If you’re worried or jealous—”

“Ha!” she huffed, cutting him off, “jealousy is the last thing you’ll get from me!”

“Then what’s the problem?” his brows drew into a straight line.

“I just want to make it clear to you that once we’re married, I don’t want to be humiliated like that again. I don’t care what you do with that girl,” she stopped to stress out her next statement, “just make sure to be discreet about it.”

He looked at her incredulously. “What made you think I’d do anything with her? She’s just someone who—”

“Whatever. Just remember what I said,” she started to walk out the restaurant. “I’m quite sure you can be a bit modest for six months.”

“Wait,” he grabbed her by the wrist and whirled her around to face him, “I don’t really have something going on with Angelica—”

“You don’t have to explain—”

“Stop interrupting me,” he ordered rather harshly, “because I have news for you too.”

She did not dare ask, so she kept silent.

“Once we’re married, I don’t want you to have any sexual encounters with anyone. Understand?”

She frowned, “Sexual encounters?”

“Lovers, boyfriends, whatever you call them,” he explained.

“And you can?”

“Can what?”

“Can have lovers, girlfriends, whatever you call them,” she repeated his words.

“Why would I need one when I have you?” His frown slowly disappeared and he grinned down at her. His sudden change of mood unnerved her in a way she couldn’t explain.

She gasped. “In your dreams, Mr. Strindberg!” She grabbed her hand back and whirled around. “That’s another of the last things you’ll get out from this marriage.”

She heard him chuckle in a low voice behind her which only infuriated her. She walked out of the doors and she tried to ignore him as much as she could as the valet maneuvered the car toward them. The moment it stopped in front of them, she walked to the back door, climbed inside and slammed it shut.

They drove in silence for a while before she finally managed to say, “Tell me the real reason why this wedding is happening. I know my father would not just sell me out. I don’t care about your own reasons. What I want to know is why my father would do this to me.”

He stopped the car and she realized they already reached her home. What the hell! Was he driving too fast or was the silence in the car longer than she had thought?

She did not make a move to open the door. She waited for his answer. What he did though was look at her through the rearview mirror and say, “Since you asked me that question, I figure your father did not say a lot earlier.”

“He told me bullshit which I don’t believe.”

Philip shrugged. “Don’t expect anything from me, Cassandra. But expect that your father did not go through with this for some lame excuse.”

She stared hard at him through the mirror. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

He shook his head. “No. I’m not the right person to.”

Cassandra chose to accept that for now. She was tired and she wanted to be alone inside her home. She’d dig for answers some other days, she decided. As she motioned to open the door to get out, Philip said, “I’ll pick you up at ten AM sharp. You have to fit your gown and we’ll have to do some food tasting.”

“Okay, fine,” she replied, opening the door.

“Before I forget,” his voice stopped her. She turned back to face him and saw him fumble inside his breast pocket. When his hand reappeared, it held a small black box. He handed it to her. “It’s the proposal ring from the ice cream. It’s a good thing things happened so fast at dinner no one remembered to ask about it. If they ask why you were not wearing it tonight, just tell them we had it refitted.”

She took the box without opening it and climbed out of the car without a word. She started to walk up to her door and when she reached it, she heard his car rev down the street.

Opening her door, she sighed, not really sure how she should feel. In just one day, her life turned completely nuts and she was trying her best to hang on. She had never had the same feeling of disbelief, of feeling as if she was floating, confusing reality with a dream.

She closed the door behind her, leaned her back against it and looked down at the little black box in her hand. She opened it and there she saw the simple silver band with a round-cut diamond ring resting on top of it. The stone glittered despite the darkness of her living room. With her right hand, she took the ring from where it was safely snuggled and slid it down one slender finger. She held up her left hand in the darkness and gave a faint smile.

“Hello, again,” she said to the ring.

The constant blinking of red light for her answering machine finally brought her back to her senses. She switched on her lights and punched the button to listen to her messages. The first one was from her mother, asking her to call back as soon as possible. The second one though was from the least person she expected to call.

She froze in the act of admiring the diamond ring in her finger when she heard the familiar baritone voice that said, “Cass, it’s me, Harrison. Uhh…it’s been a long time, but…I want to catch up. Call me back when you get this, please.”

At that very moment, Cassandra realized that today must be the most unfortunate and craziest one of her life.

Chapter 6

Cassandra lay on her bed wide awake and thoughtful. She tried to think about everything that happened that day and she already felt tired. Everything took place so fast. Except the usual gloomy morning and the occasional drinking, everything else was crazy: the sudden appearance of Philip Strindberg, the shock of her unknown marriage, the talk with her father and the secret he was hiding, the dinner, Angelica’s unbelievable behavior, the ring, and that phone call from Harrison.

Thinking about her friend brought back so many memories. Most of them were happy ones, but thinking of those happy moments spent with Harrison also meant remembering Dennis. And remembering Dennis was just like opening Pandora’s Box—everything bad rushed out and swirled around her and all that was left was that little tinge of hope that barely kept her in place.

She played with the ring around her finger and thought of Philip Strindberg. In her twenty-five years of existence, she had never met someone with so much arrogance and complex temperament as the man.

He was very different from Dennis, thank God for that. She couldn’t imagine marrying someone that would remind her so much of the man who still haunted her dreams—awake or not. Yes, the years had healed most of the pain, but not the scars. They would always be there to remind her of the possible anguish she would feel if she ever gave her whole heart to someone else again.

And meeting Philip Strindberg assured her she wouldn’t be as careless like before. She couldn’t possibly give him anything since the man already had everything. And why would I? This is just a marriage for his convenience. And to save my father from whatever hell he got himself into. No need to give anything else but six precious months of my life, she thought.

But he’s gorgeous and hot …Yes, of course he was and she was not denying that at all. She was not naïve not to detect the physical attraction they felt toward one another.

It can be a problem.

She restlessly turned to one side and closed her eyes to let sleep come slowly. So long as we don’t act on it, she prayed before finally putting her mind to rest.

She did not even dare think about her father’s real reason for making such stupid—and surely illegal—contract with Philip Strindberg. The daughter in her won and she knew that whatever her father’s reason was—lame it may be—she could never walk in a police station and report what he had done. Maybe she’d find out about it soon, but for now she had to rest.

---

She was awakened by the sound of angry knocking on her front door and the impatient buzzing of her doorbell. Groaning, she looked at her clock: 10:30 am. The time was slow to register through her sleepy head and when they finally did, she shot out of bed and stumbled to the floor.

“Shit!” she ran down the corridor and to the door. She didn’t have to check who was outside because she almost felt the strong angry presence behind the door before she swung it open.

“Don’t tell me you’re going out dressed like that,” Philip’s livid eyes looked down at her.

Following his gaze, she stared down at her super thin night gown and gasped. She crossed her arms over her chest, cowering a little. “I think I’ve overslept.”

He arched one eyebrow at her. “And what were you doing last night? I dropped you off early, didn’t I?”

She breathed deeply and almost regretted it because his manly scent suddenly overwhelmed her senses. To stop herself from closing her eyes and revel at the scent of his aftershave, she stepped back and said, “Come inside. I’ll just go get ready.”

“Make it fast,” he ordered as he stepped into the doorway, his full height looming over her. Today, he was dressed casually in a simple white shirt and dark pants.

“I will as I am so eager to get this day over with. Sit over there,” she pointed at the only chair available. Everything else was occupied by canvases and some other things.

“Good thing you still keep something available for sitting,” he said sarcastically.

“I don’t care what you think,” she started to walk back to her room, “and don’t touch anything!” she shouted before running down the corridor and to her closet. She grabbed the first shirt her hand touched and dressed. She wore the shorts she used the other day and took the pair of brown ankle boots lying on the foot of her bed. The big brown bag at the back of her door was the only thing she could think of to match her bizarre outfit so she took it, threw the clutch bag she used last night inside, and grabbed her phone and keys. Taking one last look in the mirror, she decided to hold her blond hair up in a messy bun. She didn’t really wear make-up so she was all good.

---

Philip looked around Cassandra’s room and he knew he would have a lot to deal with the very moment they said their wedding vows. The woman had little care for order and neatness.

He stared at the stack of canvases. He knew she was a painter, but he never realized she was that good. Tearing his eyes from the painting, he looked around the room again.

No, he was wrong. The woman was not disorganized. She was a mess.

Kurt Anders never told her anything about his daughter’s personal life or history. All Philip knew was that she had had a difficult past two years.

Did it have anything to do with her fear of riding shotgun?

Before he could think more of it, she reappeared into the living room.

“Let’s go,” she uttered. He may have been looking at her works with admiration, but the moment his eyes landed on her it disappeared.

“Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?” he demanded, his brows furrowed with disapproval.

“What’s wrong with it?” she asked defensively.

His jaw clenched. “Don’t bother. Let’s go.” He walked to the door and opened it.

---

Cassandra shrugged and followed him out and locked her door, pretending the key was his neck as she worked with it.

This time, he did not bother to open any door for her when they reached his car. He went straight to the driver’s side and got in.

“You’re such a gentleman, sweetheart,” she cried out at him, opening the backseat. Bending down to climb in, her mouth dropped. “What are these?” she demanded, looking at the boxes.

“They’re the boxes full of crap and they are staying there,” he said behind the wheel.

“And?”

“And they’re there to keep you from sitting back there. Get here,” he patted the passenger seat with his right hand.

“No,” she shook her head vigorously. “Not gonna happen.”

“You better get rid of that phobia once and for all,” he said seriously.

“Please…I can’t…” Cassandra’s throat tightened. She hated begging, but she really wanted the backseat badly.

“No,” he uttered the word like it was the final thing she’d ever get.

“I hate you already. I guess I already said that, but I really want to emphasis that today.” She slammed the backseat door and with shaky feet walked to open the passenger side. Climbing in, she felt a sudden tightening in her gut. Cassandra took a deep breath, leaned against the leather seat and closed the door, too weak to slam it anymore. Blindly, she reached for the seatbelt and tried her might to fasten it. Philip’s warm hands held hers and helped her with the task. She did not dare look at him because she was afraid she might attack him—she was not strong at the moment for that.

“What the hell! You’re not joking about it?” he asked as he looked at her closely.

“Just drive,” she said breathlessly. She would have succeeded if she begged him one more time about sitting at the back, but she was too stubborn to do that.

He did as she told and started the engine. The moment the wheels rolled down the road, her heart hammered ten times as fast and she gripped her bag tightly, her knuckles turning white.

“Are you okay?” She saw him look at her with concern.

“Shut up,” she snapped, too afraid to speak. She closed her eyes and imagined herself sitting at the back instead and the panic rising inside her ebbed a little. “I really hate you for this. Actually, I hate you for everything,” she said again, her voice regaining a little bit of strength.

“You need to get over your fears, Cassandra,” he said almost gently.

She snapped her eyes open. Who was he to tell her what she should do with her fears? He did not know anything about her fears. He had no idea that it was not the fear…it was the memories…

She mentally shook her head and snapped at him, “I didn’t ask to be your wife. And I sure as hell didn’t ask you to be my shrink!”

“I’m just trying to help you here,” he countered back defensively.

“No, you were just thinking what others might think if they see your fiancée climb out the backseat!”

He was silent for a long time. “Yes, you’re right,” he finally said with honesty. “I don’t want you sitting back there for that very reason.”

She closed her eyes again when the rising panic and images began to flash through her mind. The tears were threatening to escape now and she fought them hard.

You’re at the park… she tried to imagine, not so difficult for her artistic mind. Flowers everywhere… you’re alone… yes, there’s a dog and you’re strolling with it… more flowers… dead body of Philip Strindberg lying on the ground… morbidly beautiful… more flowers… you’re flying on a plane to a great place… Philip Strindberg falling down an endless pit, arms flailing in panic… drinking beer under a coconut tree… Happy thoughts, Cassandra, happy thoughts!

The tightening in her gut began to subside a little.

“Just close your eyes…” Philip tried again.

“Shut up and drive. Don’t pretend you actually care and my eyes are already closed!” she snapped.

They drove in silence once again.

---

Cassandra was mentally drained by the time they reached the place where she would be having her gown fitting.

“Let’s go,” he took her by the elbow.

She flinched away from him, staggering on her feet. “Don’t touch me. I’m really pissed.”

His face was painted with irritation. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know you really have it bad. It’s not like you died out there, so stop with your childish—”

Cassandra let out a mocking laugh. “Childish? No, what you did was childish!”

“Shh!” he hissed. “Stop yelling. Fine, you’re pissed. Now, let’s go.” He walked ahead of her and she was glad because she didn’t want him to see her wobbled gait. Her knees were still weak from the ride. “Cassandra, hurry up,” he called over his shoulder.

“I can take my precious time!” she exclaimed.

He stopped, looked back at her, and noticed her weak strides. “This is impossible,” he said, walking right back to her. He grabbed her left hand and placed it behind his back to settle on his left waist. “I’ll help you,” he said with etch of gentleness as he circled his right arm behind her back.

“I don’t need—” she started to pull her hand from behind him, but he held it in place with his free hand.

“Shut up,” he ordered, tightening his hold on her. “Let’s go. We’re already late and we can’t have you limping all the way.”

She glared up at him, but did not argue much further.

---

Philip never thought that agreeing to Kurt Anders’ plan to marry his daughter and protect equated to babysitting as well.

He never thought she actually had a phobia.

Brushing aside the thoughts of the car ride, Philip murmured, “Smile,” as they entered the doors.

The fake smiles on their faces as the lady at the counter of the bridal shop smiled at them could have blinded anyone. They looked perfectly sweet with their arms around each other. Only that he had his arm around his fiancée for a completely different reason.

“Mr. Strindberg, welcome,” the pretty brunette smiled at them both.

“We’re here for my fiancée’s gown fitting,” he said, smiling broadly at the woman, his eyes smiling as he looked down at Cassandra.

“Oh, how marvelous, of course, her gown is ready. It just needs to be fitted,” the woman stood up and led them to the inner office.

“Where’s the woman I talked to before?”

“Oh, you mean Ms. Vanessa? She’s out today. Her husband had an emergency of some kind. But she left me orders to help you. I’m Lillian, by the way,” she held out her hand to shake Philip’s.

“This is my lovely fiancée Cassandra,” he introduced and Lillian took Cassandra’s hand and shook it warmly.

“I know you have been very busy, Ms. Cassandra. We just hope the measurements Mr. Strindberg gave us are correct. We’ll see about that today, right? Please, follow me.” Her father did, he corrected in his head.

Lillian motioned with her hand and led them inside a big fitting room furnished with an elegant sofa and a platform to stand on.

“I’ll wait here,” Philip let her go and kissed her on the mouth. Cassandra’s eyes bulged in shock, her face flushing with renewed color as opposed to the pale look on her face inside the car.

“Don’t look so shocked, my dear,” Philip whispered in her ear before stepping back, a look of amusement on his face.

“Ms. Cassandra, are you ready?” Lillian asked behind her.

She nodded, forced a smile on her face and turned her back at Philip after giving him a piercing look. “Yes, I’m ready.”

“Whatever the outcome of the gown will be wonderful if you’re the one wearing it,” he said after her.

She placed her hand behind her and gave him the finger. He chuckled in return.

When Cassandra disappeared, he fished his phone from his pocket.

He opened Henry Bell’s message.

I heard you’re fitting gowns and shit. See you at the wedding.

Philip’s jaw tightened as he typed a reply.

Is it ready?

Henry’s reply came fast.

You haven’t even said the vows yet. Worry about the divorce papers later.

He typed another reply.

Have it ready or I am not doing this.

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, Philip sighed and waited for his bride.

---

She had figured out long before that Philip (probably with her father’s help) had already chosen the gown she’d wear for tomorrow, but she never thought it would be perfect. It looked like it was made for a princess. It bared her cream-like shoulders and hugged her not-so-perfect torso in a very uncomfortable way, but she had to bear with it because there was no way she was getting married without a perfect curve. The skirt was nearly weightless and that was perfect. She was not really fond of being up to date with the fashion world, so she didn’t really mind if she was wearing the latest trend as long as she was comfortable with them. Apart from the corset which she had to bear for the simple reason of narcissism, this gown seemed like it was made just for her. And she surprisingly felt good.

But wearing the gown and looking at her reflection in the mirror brought back so many memories again. She smiled sadly, taking in the hand-sewn beadworks of her dress.

“It’s perfect,” Lillian exclaimed. “We don’t need to adjust anything at all.”

“Yes, you’re right,” she said lamely. A mixture of different kinds of emotions swirled inside her. “Can I take it off now?” she asked. She didn’t want to stay inside the dress any longer. After all, it was not made entirely for her. No matter how beautiful it might be, it was merely a costume for tomorrow.

“But how about the veil?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I know it would be perfect,” she waved off.

“Wouldn’t Mr. Strindberg want to see you wearing the gown?” Lily asked again.

Cassandra was starting to lose her patience. “No, he won’t and I won’t let him. We have this tradition…” she trailed off.

Lillian’s pretty face lighted with understanding. “Ah, yes, you’re not alone on that. Most of our clients still choose to follow the tradition.”

“Yes, I’m one of them. So, can you help me out of this now?”

“Yes, of course.” The woman stepped closer and helped her.

---

“I can’t see it? Why?” Philip demanded.

“It’s tradition, honey, remember?” she told him with a fake smile.

“I would have loved to see it though,” he muttered, and then turned to Lillian, “Thank you anyway.”

“It was my pleasure, Mr. Strindberg,” the lady answered. “We’ll deliver the gown tomorrow at six AM and help in case any adjustments will be necessary.”

“Thank you,” Cassandra said and tugged Philip’s arm. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”

“Yeah,” he said and led her out the door.

“Where to next?” she asked as they exited the building.

“The Plaza,” he replied.

“It’s a good thing it’s not that far,” she said as she climbed inside the passenger seat. She was energized enough to endure another shotgun ride.

---

“Here, try this,” Philip fed her some sort of steak. She already forgot what it was called. All these fancy food and their fancy names were too much for her.

“Hmm…” she forced a smile as she chewed. She really wanted to throw up now and go to the nearest place that served real food. “It’s great,” she lied.

“We’ll have that,” Philip said to the man in front of them.

“Yes, of course.”

“Try this, sweetheart,” Cassandra said to her future husband and forced a rather big amount of creamy textured chicken in his mouth.

“Hmm…” he beamed with puffed cheeks. He gave a thumb up and the man wrote the dish down.

They spent another hour trying to push as much food into each other’s mouth much to the caterer’s delight.

After the food tasting, they visited The Terrace Room. Cassandra’s heart filled with so much emotion upon entering the venue. It was seeing the place where she was going to tie the knot with the man standing beside her that made her realize she was actually getting married.

Everything they did today, she did two years ago. Except this one was not filled with the joy and love she felt back then. This one was just something she had to do to save her father’s ass.

---

“You already planned everything,” she told Philip over lunch.

“Of course. That’s what I do. I plan.”

“I mean, have you already planned everything?”

“Of course,” he said, sipping his wine. “I already planned for you to live at my home for the next six months,” he stopped for a moment and said, “Hmm…except one thing.”

“What?”

“The honeymoon. I never thought of it until now. Everyone would expect us to go on a honeymoon.”

“You must be kidding me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I already have plans. I’m off to go to—” she stopped midsentence and smiled.

“What? You’re off to go where?”

“Nothing,” she answered, “Let me plan our honeymoon instead.”

He looked at her for a second before shrugging, “Fine with me,” he said.

“Free your two weeks of your schedule after the wedding.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No, I’m not. Free it or I’ll go have my honeymoon alone. We can just edit some photos together and show it to your family.”

“Not gonna happen. Okay, fine. Two weeks. Where are we going?”

“That’s for me to plan and for you to find out,” she grinned wickedly. “I should at least do my part in this damn event, right?”

Chapter 7

It was only the night before the wedding that she was able to really read Philip’s profile. He was twenty-nine years old, graduated at Stanford—top of his class. After his father’s death and William decided to retire in 2005, he took over the family empire. And by empire it meant countless corporations that ranged from malls, real estates and many others. For a moment she wondered where her father fit in in all of it.

He was never married, no children either. He had one sister, Chanty. His grandparents from his mother’s side were deceased. Hope and William were his only living grandparents.

Apart from the basic family background, nothing much in the profile told her anything personal really, so she did not bother to read through it again.

She was more concerned of how she should act at the wedding. She was actually getting jitters. If she tried to analyze everything, one thing only came to mind: Crazy.

She had tried to call her father but he never answered or called back. Her mother was unreachable as well. That was something new, she thought.

She decided not to call Harrison yet. She’d do that after the wedding. He would not be happy about it for sure. She had a lot of explaining to do to him by the time their talk would happen. Or maybe she did not have to tell Harrison anything at all. She can consider this marriage as the same one celebrities did in Vegas—a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing.

Before going to bed, she made some calls for additional plane reservations. Philip gave her his passport and visa earlier and his name was a great help with her transactions. After all, Strindberg Industries always had a way with almost everyone and everything. After finally printing the ticket she got for him, she made more international calls to change her hotel reservation and ask a friend for some favors. After almost two hours, she looked down at Philip’s plane tickets, passport and visa with a wicked grin.

Oh, I bet he’s going to love his plane ride.

S he was not hard at heart, but with everything Philip Strindberg and her father did to her, she thought she deserved to play little pranks.

The wedding would go according to Philip’s way, but the honeymoon would play out exactly as how she planned it to be. That was the only reassuring thought she held on to as she went to sleep.

---

Her parents arrived the next day. God, she totally forgot they’d be actually present at the wedding. Her mother was skeptical about the sudden wedding, but that was overpowered by her immense joy. When most mothers would demand explanations as to why their daughters decided to tie the knot all of a sudden, Valerie Anders was just plain ecstatic about the whole thing. Maybe it was because the family name Strindberg came along with it.

“Oh, dear, I’m so happy for you. It’s okay, don’t explain yourself. I know why you kept it from us,” she said as she hugged Cassandra.

“You should have seen her face when I told her the news,” her father said behind them. Cassandra chose not to answer. Kurt Anders understood how she felt and decided to step out of the picture just a little and let his wife do all the talking.

“Honey, shouldn’t you be getting ready?” her mother asked. It was only then that Cassandra noticed that her parents were already dressed for the wedding.

This is really crazy, she thought. Her eyes went back to her father who couldn’t hold her gaze for more than five seconds. “Can I have a few moments alone with dad?” Her question brought a frown on her mother’s face but the lady eventually shrugged and stepped back.

Her father was about to open his mouth to protest, but his wife said, “Okay. I know you two have some talking to do. This wedding is so sudden after all. I barely had time to prepare! I need to make coffee. I’ll be at the kitchen.”

Silence reigned between her and Kurt Anders for more than a minute before she looked him in the eye and spoke, “Dad. I am not going through this stupid wedding if you don’t tell me the real reason why I have to. Do you get it? This is stupid. I can’t even wrap my mind around the thought.” It was hard not to shout, but she did her best to keep her voice low. “I can get out the door and fly to somewhere and never come back. I can go to the police right now because I know that any contract you have with Philip Strindberg—if there is really any—is completely illegal.” She was almost out of breath with anger as she finished her speech with, “Tell me why. I need you to tell me why, dad.”

Her father was looking frantic and she had never seen him like that ever. He took out a white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his flushed face. “I can’t, Cassy. I wish I can but I just…I just can’t. Trust me on this. You’re right. There is a contract, but it is not entirely about you.”

That surprised her the most and for a few seconds she was elated with the thought that she didn’t have to go through with the wedding after all. She could disappear. Escape like she had planned to before. But the look on her father’s face told her she couldn’t get out of this.

He looked over his shoulder to check if his wife was within earshot. She was not. He returned his pleading gaze at Cassandra and said, “You can walk away if you want. You can do whatever you want, Cassy. But please, trust me when I say that this is the best solution right now.”

“Solution? For what? That’s what I want to know.”

Her father closed his eyes for a moment and she almost felt sorry for him. “I did something stupid two years ago. Because of that, I am in trouble. I was about to go crazy when Philip came along and we both decided to help each other.” She waited for more but he finished his explanation with, “That’s all I can tell you. Trust me, darling. I would rather walk you down the aisle against your wish than lose you forever. Both you and your mother. I promise I’ll explain everything once it’s all over.”

“Then there’s no loan money? No contract with Philip Strindberg?”

Before her father could answer, her mother shouted for her. “Cassy, aren’t you going to get ready?”

“Please,” was the only word that her father managed to say.

She shared one last look with her father. The man looked like he was waiting for the jury to say he was going to jail for the rest of his life.

Cassandra sighed and shook her head. “Mom, the wedding is in six hours. Are you that excited?” She saw the relief on her father’s face as she shouted over her shoulder.

“Yes! Of course!” Valerie said, walking back to them. She gently ran her smooth hands over her made up blond hair and smiled. Her mother was really beautiful. She always carried this elegance with her that flowed naturally. Her light brown eyes were filled with innocent joy and it seems that age gave her a new glow instead of making her old. Just like now, she was dressed in a red dress that spruced up her still slender curves. A pearl necklace hung around her flawless skin and she looked like ten years younger. “Now, let’s go get you ready. Your gown and make-up artist are waiting for you at The Plaza.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw her father step back and disappear in the kitchen. “Mom! It’s only seven. The wedding’s at one o’clock,” she whined.

“Now, stop being so whiny, Cassandra. You have to take a long bath. You need to relax. Six hours is not enough for that.” Her mother pushed her toward her bedroom. “Go fill your tub and have a relaxing bath. I brought different kinds of aroma therapy packages for you. I’ll go get them.” Cassandra resignedly walked to her bathroom and filled the tub. There was no way she could talk her mother out of this.

She spent almost one hour inside the tub with the strong smell of lavender and so many other things from the candle her mother lighted for her, thinking of the talk she had with her father. Is he in big trouble? Mafia-kind-of-trouble?

God, why was she so obsessed with this Mafia thing? Better than

terrorists , she reasoned. Her father was not capable of manufacturing plastic weapons of mass destruction, was he?

He was the only one who could answer that and as much as she wanted to drill him, her mother’s presence prevented that. And he chose to go ahead to The Plaza to see if any more things were needed to be done.

It was better that way. Lying to her mother, letting her think her daughter was marrying because she wanted to, was hard enough. His presence only made it worse.

And there was Philip Strindberg. If her father would not talk, she’d make sure her future husband would. He got mixed up in her father’s troubles to help him? That did not seem right. He was not the kind of man who would graciously help another businessman without something in return. And no matter how she thinks of it, she was not the one Philip Strindberg really wanted. He could get any wife he needed. There was something else he was after here.

I’ll make him talk, she promised.

Marrying him would give her time. So she better get to that wedding after all.

“Mom, I’m done. I don’t think I can stay longer. My skin’s going to fall off if I do,” Cassandra called out from the bathroom, wrapping herself with the silky robe her mother handed her earlier.

“Good. Now dry off and wear that dress,” she pointed at a lime green dress on her bed.

Cassandra sighed and walked over to the bed. She took her time dressing and when she was done, she frowned at her mother who was busily packing a lot of things.

“What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously.

“I bought you some real clothes, honey,” her mother said in a sing-song voice. “You should show Philip your assets.”

“You met him?”

“Of course. He and you dad told me the news. I even asked him why he didn’t bring you. Oh, he was so sweet. Said he wants to get my permission personally. It was brave of him to come alone to face me and your father.”

“Yeah, he is,” was all she could say. He did not mention about meeting you, she thought to herself as she watched her mother. “Mom, you did not tell him about Dennis, did you?”

“Hmm? No, of course not, darling. I was not stupid to talk about such matters.”

Cassandra felt relieved until she saw what her mother was packing. “Mom, what’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“That box!” she asked, her face horrified when she saw the brightly colored box.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what this is?” her mother asked innocently and flung the box in front of her. “This is for your protection. In case you don’t want to have a child just yet.”

“Mom! I know what that is!” she grabbed the box from her mother’s hand. “And I know very well what this is for! God, you’re embarrassing me!”

“I got you the pills too,” her mother continued, “you know how to use this, right? Look here…there’s a date—”

“Mom!” Cassandra gasped as she snatched the pills away, “I’m old enough to know how to use the damn pills!”

Her mother looked at her in bewilderment, “Why are you so horrified? I’m just looking out for you, honey. I know that women of today are not in such a hurry to build a family. I just want to support you and Philip.”

“Then stop doing stuff like this. God, it’s embarrassing,” she looked around. Though she knew they were alone, still she wanted to be sure no one else witnessed their exchange. “What are those?” she asked when she saw the colorful garments inside her suitcase.

“Underwear, lingerie, and a lot more. Toys as well—”

“What the hell, mom!” She groaned, pulled the suitcase towards her, threw the pills and the box of condoms inside and closed it. “Mom, stop it, okay? I know what to do during my honeymoon.”

“Where are you going anyway?” her mother’s light brown eyes looked at her with joy.

“Somewhere,” she answered.

“Tropical?”

“Very,” she smiled for the first time. She tried to think of Philip’s reaction once he found out. Oh, it was the only thing that made her giddy. “Now, mom, please let’s go. No more boxes and pills—and toys, okay? Just…just behave.”

“Okay, okay,” her mother held up both hands. Valerie Anders sighed. “I am happy for you, darling.”

Regretfully, Cassandra couldn’t say the same thing.

---

The next three hours she spent in a whirlwind of a lot of things. Philip sent a driver to drive her to The Plaza. She and her enthusiastic mother rode at the back of the black BMW with the latter woman’s incessant blabbers and constant reminder that everything would go perfectly and saying things like, “I just wish we had more time to prepare this wedding.”; “Why did you decided all of a sudden, anyway?”; “You’re not pregnant, are you?”; “I wish you told me about him.”; “I wish I had enough time to meet his family! I’ve read about them countless of times and I still find it unbelievable that you snatched one of them!”

Cassandra did not bother to answer all questions because she knew her mother was only talking to herself and did not really expect any answer.

The moment she stepped inside her dressing room an hour before the wedding, she was stripped out of her dress and was wrapped in a silk robe. Her blond hair was made up in perfect waves by a cheery, black American woman who gave her an hour of fun stories about other wedding tragedies she had been into in the past.

When she was ready, Cassandra hardly recognized herself. Perhaps it was better that way. She wanted to think that she was not the woman who would walk down the aisle today.

The gown was the last thing to come and it was a more difficult task than the last time. Her veil was much more of a challenge because it practically ran down the floor behind her and it was uncomfortable to move her head at all.

Cassandra was able to rest five minutes before the dreaded walk down the aisle. Her father did not show up throughout the storm, probably guarding the doors in fear that she would run away. How Cassandra wished she had the courage to go Julia-Roberts and be the Runaway Bride of New York.

Her mother had gone missing and she didn’t really care. She couldn’t take any more of her useless chatters. She was still recovering from the gifts she received this morning.

Someone knocked on the door and the pretty brown-haired beauty popped her head inside. “Can I come in?” Chanty asked.

“Yes, of course,” Cassandra said and began to stand up.

“Oh, no, don’t stand up. I know you’re tired,” her future sister-in-law waved her hand. She was dressed in a pretty golden gown and it was paired with golden wedged sandals. Her straight brown hair was spread beautifully behind her back. She held a bouquet of tulips in one hand and she handed it to Cassandra. “This is yours,” she smiled awkwardly. “Look, Cassandra, right?”

“Cassy. You can call me Cassy or Cass, whichever you’re comfortable with,” she answered.

“Look, Cassy.” Chanty’s smile turned warm. “I’m sorry about last dinner. Angelica was out of bounds. I shouldn’t have let her talk me into bringing her.”

Yes, about that. Why don’t you fucking tell me more about Angelica? Cassandra wanted to ask, but chose to utter, “That’s okay. I was shocked, but I got over it sooner than most would have, I think,” instead.

Is she here? I don’t want to pull out a bunch of red hair off that pretty head of hers.

“Don’t worry; she’s not coming to the wedding. I told her I’d end our friendship if she does,” Chanty said in a jesting tone as if she heard Cassandra’s question. “She’s just a bit heartbroken, that’s all. Oh, I know Philip probably told you about everything, so I don’t think I should explain.”

No, actually I don’t have a freaking idea. I would love to know more! Cassandra thought as she smiled. “Yeah, of course he did.”

“I really hope we’d become friends. My brother should have at least introduced you to us before he decided to propose.”

“Of course, we can be friends. And I had been very busy for a long time though I really wish I could have met you guys before all this,” she answered warmly. She liked Chanty—she was not like her brother at all. Actually, she liked the rest of his family that she even considered if he was adopted.

“Well, good luck. Philip said none of your friends can make it to be your maid of honor and he thought I’d be a perfect proxy. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t really have a lot of friends and the few I have are scattered around the globe. New York was never a home until now, of course. And you being my maid of honor is an honor. I told him you’d be perfect,” she lied. She totally forgot about that detail.

She was saddened by that thought again. She had friends nearby and though they were not a lot, she would have loved to have them at her wedding. She shook her head mentally. No, she didn’t really want her friends to see her getting married to a complete stranger. Two years ago, they expected her to be married happily. She couldn’t say she was happy now, so it was better that they were not here. Most of them were better off doing whatever they were doing in wherever part of the world they may be right now.

She dreaded the calls that would bombard her should this wedding be publicly known. He was a Strindberg, after all. Ah, but she would not be here to answer the calls, will she? She would be somewhere far away for her honeymoon.

Chanty seemed pleased and she gave Cassandra a small hug, drawing Cassandra away from her thoughts, before telling her it was time for the wedding to start.

Her throat tightened at the news. It was like she was suddenly grabbed from behind without notice. Oh, God, this is really happening.

“Philip’s already waiting for you,” Chanty smiled at her as she held out her hand for her. Cassandra took it and held on for dear life.

Her father was already waiting for her by the entrance. She also forgot he’d be handing her to Philip. Without a word, she hooked her hand around the crook of his arm.

“I’m sorry about this, Cassy. I really am.”

“What’s done is done, dad. I just wish you can trust me enough to tell me everything,” she whispered back, already tired of having another witty remark to throw. She knew he had strong reasons for doing what he did, but the bitterness on her part would stay for a bit longer until she found out the truth behind all these.

The music started and everyone in front of the line—all of them strangers to her—started to walk slowly down the aisle. Everyone turned to look at her. She looked back at them, grateful for the veil because she didn’t feel like smiling with her eyes right now. Everyone was a stranger—excluding her mother who was now seated with Mary and Hope Strindberg like they had been friends since birth, an empty seat beside her most probably for her dad.

With eyes full of the new faces around her, she looked around and almost gasped. She never realized The Terrace Room she and Philip visited yesterday could become more beautiful. Golden lights hung from the high ceiling, expensive flowers along the aisle—it was just golden everything. She almost felt out of place.

She wondered how she might have felt if she was able to walk down the aisle two years ago. She bet it would have felt a hundred times better, knowing that the man waiting for her was the man she wanted. She looked ahead and saw Philip, handsome as ever in his black tuxedo and bow tie. Yeah, right. That guy is the best version of forever I could get, she sarcastically thought.

A handsome black-haired man stood beside the groom, admiration on both their faces as they looked at her. She felt her face heat up when she realized she was the object of their fascination. The other guy’s eyes did not leave her and it somehow made her uncomfortable so she chose to completely ignore him.

God, he’s such a great actor, she thought wryly when Philip reached for her after giving her father a handshake. Great. Contract sealed , Cassandra wryly thought. Was this how medieval princesses felt in their wedding day? Because Cassandra would have understood if they considered taking poison before coming down the aisle.

His hand was warm when he took hers.

“You’re cold,” he whispered in her ear.

“It’s cold feet,” she snapped, “and cold hands.”

He scoffed beside her. He was not able to offer a retort because the pastor started with whatever he had to say. Cassandra tried real hard not to think about her grumbling stomach. She realized she never ate a single thing since she woke up that morning.

Finally, after they went through the motion of their vows— non- heartedly said by both of them, of course—they finally signed and sealed the marriage contract that would bind them for life—well, in their case, would bind them for six months as what her father and Philip had said and Cassandra was already dreading the moment.

“You can kiss your bride, Philip,” the pastor said with a smile.

Cassandra’s heart began to hammer as Philip’s hand—the one which now wore the wedding band she slipped into his finger earlier—held up her veil with a grin. “Hi, Mrs. Strindberg,” he said, looking into her eyes before his lips descended down to meet hers. It was a little bit longer than yesterday’s kiss. And it was gentler. She kissed him back, not giving him the chance to enjoy it alone. The crowd clapped their hands.

“Hi back, Mr. Strindberg,” she said wickedly, her eyebrow arched in challenge. He did not expect her to kiss him back with such intensity as she did because it was obviously painted over his face.

He recovered rather fast though because he leaned closer and whispered, “I’m looking forward for that honeymoon you arranged for us.”

Cassandra’s senses surged in full alert as his breath tingled her ear and his hand went behind the small of her back. Her thoughts flew to the boxes her mother threw into her suitcase. She mentally brushed the horrible idea and the pleasant sensations away, reminding herself of why she was actually there. “Oh, don’t worry, darling, I know you’ll love it.”

The crowd cheered as Philip led his wife down the aisle and out of The Terrace Room.

---

The next few hours or so were spent at another hall with glittering wine glasses, golden table cloths, silver chairs, and marvelously dressed people. Cassandra danced every dance she had to dance with Philip, her father, William, and even the best man whom she finally knew as Henry Bell.

“It’s finally nice to meet you,” her husband’s friend said. She looked up at him, his black eyes dark with admiration. He was not really putting very much of an effort to hide it. Cassandra wondered if he knew about the real reason why she married his friend because his gaze told her he knew more than the other guests.

“Well, it’s good to finally meet you too,” she said safely.

He flashed his perfect white teeth down at her as he swayed her around with the music. “Philip said you’ve been seeing each other for a long time?” he asked, his tone testing.

“Yes, we did. We met through a friend.”

“Who?”

“Who who?”

“Who’s the friend? I think I should know because whoever he or she is, he or she has a bunch of beautiful friends.” Henry’s gaze was intense in a way that made Cassandra feel weird and uncomfortable.

“Well? Who’s this friend?”

“Philip didn’t tell you?”

“No, he didn’t,” he replied.

“I didn’t what?” Philip’s voice asked behind them.

Cassandra sighed, relieved for the first time to hear her husband’s voice.

“Nothing. I was just asking your wife who introduced you to each other.” Henry grinned at his friend. Their dancing had stopped.

“Who? Ben? You don’t know him,” Philip lied easily and fixed his friend with a look of impatience. “Can I have my wife back now?”

Henry chuckled and let her go. “Of course, man.”

“Thank you,” Philip said and without looking at his friend, took her hand and held her close.

“That was close, you know. You should have been more specific when you told me about our story.”

“Just lie whenever something like that happens again,” he said beside her ear.

“I don’t really lie as easily as you do,” she lied in a whisper.

“Then change the topic,” he said simply, swirling her around. “Now, give me a kiss. Everyone’s looking.”

“The hell I will—” he cut her off with the same thing he asked for.

She melted once again. His kisses were starting to alarm her. She didn’t like the warmth and heat that they brought to her senses.

But then she couldn’t just let him enjoy it alone. She kissed him back, wounding her hands at his nape, and her fingertips ran through his dark brown hair. She grinned when she felt his shoulders freeze and contract in response.

She didn’t let him finish the kiss himself. He started it and so she’d end it. And she did it much to his obvious disappointment.

---

Philip watched from one corner as his wife tried her best to enjoy the party, but it was apparent that she had been avoiding her father. The poor man was lurking in one corner, his face the epitome of guilt and anxiety.

“You must talk to him,” he snapped at Henry Bell when the man stood beside him holding a glass of champagne.

Henry’s eyes veered toward Kurt Anders. “He’s okay.” Then he transferred them over to Cassandra. “You are a lucky man.”

“You fucking bastard,” he said under his breath. “You should not be here. You have a job, remember?”

Henry shrugged. “I am expected to be here.” He looked at his watch. “We will not be getting everything from Anders just because you married his daughter.”

His head snapped toward his friend. “What do you mean?” he demanded.

“He is not giving us everything, Philip.” Henry motioned his head toward Anders’ direction. “Old man knows his game.”

Philip’s jaw tightened.

“Who is Ben, by the way?” Henry asked.

Philip remembered the random name he gave earlier.

Henry chuckled. “I was wondering if I should also monitor a certain Ben.”

“Fuck off, Bell,” he said. He saw Cassandra walking toward them with a radiant smile on her face. God, they were a pair terrific liars, Philip could not help but wryly think. “She’s on her way. Shut up.”

Bell sighed and started to saunter away. “I figured she is not in on this? Anyway, I’m leaving. Have a nice honeymoon. Do your part and don’t worry about the rest.”

Cassandra reached him, frowning after Henry Bell. “Where is your friend going?”

“Running away from you,” he retorted.

“Does he know?”

“Who?”

“Henry Bell.”

Philip shrugged. “He’s my lawyer and friend. He knows enough.”

“Is he the same friend and lawyer who will be giving me my freedom in six months’ time?”

He nodded. “The very same.”

“And does he know my father as well?”

“Stop asking questions, Cassandra. I told you I am not the person you should ask.”

He saw her sigh before she looked around and asked, “Can we go now? My feet are killing me and I don’t really want to mingle with these strangers.”

“How about your parents?” he asked.

“They would be happy to see me go with you, especially my mother.” She looked over his shoulder where her mother was now chattering away with Mary and Hope in one corner, wine in hand. Good God, someone should take that glass away from her before she does something stupid . “Yes, I definitely think we should go now.”

“Too giddy to start on that honeymoon?” he asked with a lopsided grin.

Their faces inches apart, she laughed dryly. “Yes, too giddy to see your face the moment you find out where we are going,” she said.

His face turned blank, alarm creeping in. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

Philip did not like it at all.

բv)6%o

Chapter 8

“Did you pack?” she asked him as the chauffeur drove them to her home. She already changed back to the lime green dress her mother gave her that morning.

“Yes, they’re in the trunk,” he said with heavy eyes.

“Are you sleepy?” His mother had been trying to tell him all afternoon to slow down with the wine. “I think you had too much to drink.”

He chuckled sarcastically, his hand busily tugged at his bow tie. “You’re acting like a wife, you know that?”

“No, I don’t because I don’t really intend to do that.”

“Then why the sudden concern?”

“I wasn’t concerned. I just pointed out that you had too much to drink, that’s all.”

“Hmm…yeah, maybe…” he trailed off as he started to doze off.

“You might regret drinking when you get on the plane later though,” she said with a wicked grin.

“Why?” he asked, eyes closed.

“You’ll see…” she replied mysteriously.

She looked at her sleeping husband and smiled.

---

It was getting dark when they arrived at her house. She woke him up and told him to help her with her bags. He lazily obliged and got out of the car.

“What’s all this?” he asked when he saw the suitcases beside the door.

“Just bring them to the car,” she said as she went to the phone to listen to her messages.

He grumbled under his breath as he picked up two suitcases. He was about to walk out the door when the message on her phone spoke up, Harrison’s voice loud and clear, “Cassy, it’s Harrison. I hope you’re getting my messages. I wanna talk. Call me back, please?”

Cassandra knew her husband heard it all, but she didn’t really care. He could die with curiosity because she was never going to explain anything.

“Who’s that?” he asked when she went to pick up the last remaining suitcase.

“No one,” she answered and arched her eyebrows at him when he just stood there without moving, eyeing her intently. “What?”

“I told you no sexual encounters in this marriage, right? No boyfriends or lovers,” he said coldly.

She sighed. She rather wanted him sleepy than wide awake. “I’m not having any relationships that should alarm your reputation, okay?”

“Then who’s that?”

“A friend.”

“Didn’t sound like it,” he said.

“Stop prying. I don’t like it. I’m not even asking you about Angie or whoever she is.”

“Angelica?”

“Why? You forgot her name? The one at dinner,” she said sarcastically.

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Whatever you’re doing,” he said.

“What am I doing?”

“You’re being sarcastic.”

“Sarcasm is art. Spent a year in graduate school for it, you know,” she said, ending their conversation. “Let’s go and I suggest you go back to sleep. I like it better.”

---

She handed him his ticket when they reached the airport. It took him only a second before he glowered down at her.

His wife smiled contentedly up at him.

“I can’t believe you actually did this,” he almost shouted.

“Believe it,” she smirked.

“Philippines? Are you freaking kidding me? It’s at the other side of the globe, Cassandra!”

“And I already made plans to go there before you showed up so I’m going whether with or without you.”

“You booked me a commercial flight,” he pointed. “We’ll be travelling for hours!”

“Yes, I did. And I think they said you’ll be sitting at the back. You know, where there is the greatest inconvenience,” she did not hide the chuckle that escaped her lips when his face colored in frustration.

“You did this on purpose,” he accused.

“Of course…” she placed her hand on her chest, “…I did. I also made it sure you’d have no sleep. I told them my husband likes children and the lady gladly told me you’ll be lucky because there are a bunch of school kids sitting beside you.”

“And where will you be sitting?” he asked.

“I had a business class flight scheduled for me months ago.”

“No, I can’t let that happen,” he started to walk to the long line of counters.

“What are you going to do?” she asked aloud.

“I’m going to fix this problem,” he said over his shoulder.

“Whatever, sweetheart. You can go home after your talk.”

He stopped in his tracks and spun around at her. “What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you see the time on your ticket? We’ll be boarding in,” she looked at her watch before she continued, “like now. So catch up with me or go home.” She turned away from him and walked to the opposite direction.

“Dammit!” Philip cursed as he followed his wife with purposeful strides.

“You’re going to enjoy this honeymoon, honey,” she said aloud.

---

“You’ll be okay, sweetie,” she uttered, looking down at him. He was sitting so out of place between two heavy kids having a fight. He managed to change into a pair of slacks and light white shirt.

“You can’t just leave me here,” he hissed.

She smiled at him mockingly. “Oh, honey, I got a great seat waiting for me. I am not as rich as you and I would not pass up the chance of enjoying the business class. Behave, okay? Don’t make these kids cry,” Cassandra said before she planted a peck on his cheek. He turned his face away from her hands and she chuckled. “You’re not gonna cry, are you?”

He looked at her, his jaw clenched. “Don’t count on it, darling. We’ll see each other again before you know it.” The warning in his voice should have alarmed anyone, but not Cassandra. She was too much like him whether she admitted it or not.

“I’ll be looking forward to that moment,” she said with mock cheerfulness before walking down the aisle of the plane to the business class. She glanced over her husband. His eyes were closed—more like in prayer, as the two big kids reached across each other in front of him, their hands wailing everywhere and her poor haggard handsome husband couldn’t do anything but fume.

Things are gonna get better, she said to herself thinking about what she could do next when they reached their honeymoon destination.

---

They landed in Korea for a connecting flight.

“Where the hell are you?” Philip’s voice boomed right at her ear the moment she answered the phone.

She could detect the anger and exhaustion in his voice and couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. She told him the name of the café and disconnected before he could cry out another remark.

“Get me a coffee,” he said to her when he arrived after a few minutes. He dropped in a chair beside her and slumped.

She sighed, looking at his messy hair and the dark circles under his eyes, and got up to order a strong drink for him. Anyway, she was not that heartless to make him suffer all the way. He would be facing a lot more in the next couple of days.

“Here,” she handed him a hot steaming coffee. He took it, looked over at her with half-closed eyes over the rim of the cup. He sipped some of the hot liquid without taking his eyes from her oh-so-fresh face. “You look so well-rested, honey,” he said with etch of bitterness.

“I know, I slept soundly,” she beamed, “You don’t look so well, though.”

“It’s your fault,” he pointed out. “But,” he let out a breath as he leaned against his chair with a smile, “my suffering will end soon.”

She froze, sensing he was not anymore as angry as he was before they left New York. “Why?”

“I talked to my friend right after I got off the plane,” his grin widened and his blue eyes glinted. “It appears that there’s an extra seat right next to you.”

It took her a few seconds before she finally understood. “No, I don’t have an extra seat next to me. I will be sitting with someone else.”

“Then that someone else apparently decided you will not be a good company and chose to change seats.”

She groaned, “God, I wanted you to suffer more…”

“Well, honey, it seems that’s not gonna happen,” he gave her a wink.

“Whatever,” she snapped. Was there anyway she could grab the coffee from him and throw it away?

---

“I can’t believe you used your connections,” she huffed two hours later.

“And I can’t believe you’d let your husband suffer hours of no sleep and exhaustion with two hyperactive boys who won’t stop fighting,” he replied. “I won’t even be surprised if I discover bruises on my arms.”

Cassandra snorted, “Bruises? Don’t tell me you joined their fights?”

“I didn’t. They just decided I’m a good punching bag,” he restlessly changed from one position to another and when he finally found the best one, he closed his eyes with a smile, “Finally, a good place to rest. Don’t talk to me, darling. I really need a good sleep.”

“Sleep tight, sweetheart, I still have a lot of surprises in store for you,” she whispered with mocking sweetness.

“I shouldn’t have let you arrange this damn honeymoon…” he trailed, already dozing off.

s

Chapter 9

They arrived in the Philippines and were immediately greeted by the hot glare of the sun. By the time they stepped out of the airport, Philip’s light shirt was already drenched in sweat and his face had turned red—both with the hot weather and his annoyance toward his new wife who by the way was enjoying every angle of his contorted face.

“You don’t have a ride?” he asked incredulously when she said they had to get a taxi.

“No,” she answered, tipping her head up to look for any taxi guy.

“I thought you already planned this?” he asked irritably.

“I don’t plan little details such as a ride.”

“For your information, lady, little details such as a ride will greatly help,” he turned to look down at her, his eyes squinting from the sun.

“And for your information, it’s my second time here and I know exactly where I’m going,” she rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses.

“And where is that exactly?”

“Somewhere,” she answered.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, “Somewhere where exactly?”

“Ugh! Stop questioning everything! You let me handle this, okay?”

He scowled at her, “How can I when it’s clear that you don’t exactly know where to go next?”

“I know where to go next! Just shut up!” she exclaimed, raising her hand to call the attention of someone behind him. “Grab our bags and hold tight on your valuables,” she told him, taking as much of her suitcase with her to meet the cab driver.

“Unbelievable!” he said through his teeth.

“Believe it!” she shouted over her shoulder. “Get going, Philip, we don’t have all the time in the world.”

“Easy for you to say when I’m carrying your suitcases,” he snapped. “Why do you need so many clothes anyway?”

“They’re not clothes, sweetheart. They’re my equipment, so handle those suitcases with care.”

“Like I actually care…”

“Hey! I mean it. You won’t like what I’d do if my paints are all ruined when I open them later,” she warned as they fell in line for a taxi.

His phone rang. He placed his wife’s suitcases on the ground and checked it.

He sighed as he answered the phone, adding to his wife, “Watch the bags. I have to get this,” before walking away. He could feel her gaze following him as he spoke, “What is it?”

“Got the first batch,” Henry Bell uttered from the other end. “Enjoying the honeymoon?”

“I’m in the Philippines.”

Henry’s laughter rang through his ear. “Good thing you’re at the other side of the world, man.” Bell paused before adding in a serious tone, “Are you being followed?”

“How the hell would I know that?” he gritted out.

“Of course. But be careful. Always watch your back. And keep the woman safe for Christ’s sake. We don’t want her father to go crazy on us.”

“Do your job, Henry, and I’ll do mine.”

“Sure will.”

“Who was that?” Cassandra asked when he returned.

“Business,” he lied.

She gave him a doubtful look but did not ask further. They waited for their turn in the taxi line and when it came, his wife ordered, “The suitcases, Philip,” before climbing inside the air-conditioned car.

He and the Filipino driver struggled with the suitcases to haul in the trunk for a few minutes. When they were done, he opened the door and bent down, “Scoot over,” he ordered.

“I didn’t hear please,” she said with defiance.

“Like hell,” he straightened and slammed the door beside her, strode to the other side and climbed in.

“How wise,” she uttered.

“Shut up, darling,” he said sarcastically. How funny they said random endearments to each other when they were having a banter which was always. Sweat was dripping down his temple, running down his flushed cheeks now and so was Cassandra’s. Philip caught himself before he made a fool of himself when the sudden urge to wipe the sweat off the side of her face. “I’m in a really bad mood as it is and I’m trying real hard not to commit battery right now,” he continued through clenched teeth.

She feigned horror, “I can’t believe that you would actually think of such a thing!”

“Stop that act, will you? I won’t lay one finger to hurt you. Your dad made sure of that.”

“Ah…the contract. You think I should be thankful for it?”

He quickly turned his head to look at her, “Is this all about the damn contract? It is, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is! I won’t be here stuck with you if it weren’t for that blasted contract,” she exclaimed.

“Where you two going?” the Filipino driver spoke rather hesitantly, afraid to break their argument.

“You’re not the one stuck here with me. It’s me who is stuck here with you. That’s different,” Philip said without hearing the man.

“I don’t want to hear any more of your logical babbles,” Cassandra said and turned away from him to face the driver, “Shangri-La Hotel, please.”

“Okay,” the driver said and started the engine, happy to finally leave and roll the meter.

---

Cassandra led her husband to the main lobby of the Shangri-la Hotel, suitcases and all. The cool air-conditioned air greeted them and she relished it for a second.

A beautiful Filipina girl smiled at her when she reached the counter. “Welcome to Shari-la Hotel, how may I help you, ma’am?”

She gave the lady a friendly smile and said, “I reserved a room a couple of months ago but made changes a few days ago. Can you confirm it please?” She said it with enough emphasis.

“Can I have your name please?” the lady looked at her computer.

“Cassandra Anders,” she answered.

“Anders?” Philip asked beside her. He smelled of sun and heat and his shirt was as drenched as ever.

“Yes, Anders. I made the reservations before I married you,” she said hastily. She noted the frown on the Filipina’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Ms. Cassandra Anders made reservations for a Double Bedroom room.”

“Yes, double. Two beds?”

“It’s a double room, ma’am.”

“Can you elaborate?” she asked again.

“I guess that means we have to share a bed, honey,” Philip whispered beside her before the lady could open her mouth.

Chapter 10

“What? No,” she leaned over to the lady, planting both her hands on the cool marble counter, and said, “I specifically asked for a room with two

beds a couple of days ago.“

The lady looked at her screen again and looked at her with the same awkward look, “We don’t really have the bedroom that you want right now, Miss Anders.”

“What?” She was really getting confused. It must be the heat. “Then give me a freaking penthouse or something,” she said, not remembering the name of the most expensive rooms in the hotel.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, ma’am. Reservations are needed to get the rooms. We are full today until next week.”

“You must be kidding…”

“I’m afraid we don’t have a choice here.” Philip brushed her aside to talk to the woman, “We’ll take the room. We don’t mind the room you can offer us at all.”

“But I specifically made changes—” she started and he cut her off with a look.

“Don’t even try saying we’ll find another hotel because I’m already beat, Cassandra,” he said stonily.

“Fine, but you’re sleeping on the floor.”

Philip smiled at the woman who was now looking at them with confusion. “She’s just kidding,” he explained. “Where do we sign?”

The lady just nodded and handed them papers to fill out. Philip handled the bill and they were off to their room. The bellboy led the way with their suitcases on a luggage cart.

Cassandra was still in confusion over their bedroom when they finally reached it. It was big and spacious and the view from the glass windows was stunning, but there was really only one bed.

“This is freaking movie material. Bad fate playing on two strangers walking into a hotel,” she muttered under her breath in disbelief.

Philip was busy handing the bellboy a tip when she decided she should dominate the bed. Dropping her bag, she half-ran to the queen-sized bed and flung herself on top of it, her arms spread out.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, his brows furrowed.

“I’m lying on my

bed,“ she answered.

“It’s our bed,” he corrected, his hands unconsciously planted on his hips. She could see he was breathing heavily. He was obviously tired.

“No, it’s mine. Yours is down there,” she pointed at the carpeted floor.

“The hell it is,” Philip scowled and without a word dropped on the bed beside her. “This bed is big enough for two…” he said beside her. She managed to scoot on one side before his big lean body hit the bed. “…and maybe some other activities,” he added with a leer.

Cassandra gasped and pushed him with her hands and feet, “The only activity on this bed is me sleeping on it,” she pushed harder until the lower part of his body fell from the bed, “alone!” she added with a grunt, giving him one last kick.

Philip jumped right back on the bed. “That’s not going to happen. I paid for this room.”

Cassandra pushed him with four limbs but this time he was heavier. “I’ll pay you back gladly. Now get off my bed!”

“Are you afraid I’ll touch you?” he teased, his rumpled brown head turning toward her and his lips were grinning at her wickedly. There went his odd temperament again. One moment he was the arrogant bastard from that first day in the coffee shop and he was the playful, sexy guy the next. His parents’ genes must have been a wrong match from the get-go.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” she lied.

“Really?”

She arched an eyebrow and said, “Really,” she coupled it with a wink. They lay there in a battle of unblinking gaze, both with no intention to give up. Intending to send him away from her, she lifted her right arm and placed it over his chest. His muscles tightened.

The frown deepened on his face. Instead of jumping out of bed, he lifted his arms and crossed them under his head.

Squinting her eyes, she lifted her left leg and crossed it over his outstretched ones, taunting him.

“Not really working, Cassandra,” he uttered with a pretend yawn, but Cassandra could feel his heart hammering against his chest where her hand rested.

For her last attempt, she trailed her hand lower to the edge of his shirt.

“Nope, not working.”

She stayed like that for a long time as she thought of another way to keep the bed to herself. She could slip her hand lower or under his shirt, but then she was not quite sure she would want to end it there if she did. She worried her lower lip. “Want to play papel, gunting, bato ?” she challenged.

He frowned. “What’s that?”

She disengaged herself from him. She hadn’t even touched skin yet her heart was beating fast. Was she having a heart attack? It would be embarrassing if she died in bed with her new husband.

Brushing off her thoughts, she focused on the important matter at hand. “Rock, paper, scissors. Papel for paper. Gunting for scissors. Bato for rock.” Cassandra explained the few Filipino words she managed to retrieve from memory. “Whoever loses takes a step to the edge of the bed. The first to fall off the bed takes the couch.”

Philip was never going to give up. After all, he paid for the room himself. But she couldn’t give up either. The only thing left was for them to play a game.

He immediately sat down on the center of the bed and she did the same. They crossed their legs and faced each other, fists balled and ready for battle.

“ Papel, gunting, bato! “ they both chanted and Cassandra howled with victory when her rock crushed Philip’s scissors. She pushed him forward, closer to the edge of the bed behind him.

Determination was now apparent in his eyes as she looked at him. Really, the game is just like poker. All you have to do was bluff. “ Papel, gunting, bato! “ and Cassandra lost this time. She glared at him as she scooted back.

Three more rounds and they were both sitting on both ends of the bed. She thought of reaching out to poke him because that was all that was needed for him to fall down the floor.

“ Papel, gunting… “

“Wait, wait, wait!” Cassandra cut in with one hand. “Surely there can be an agreement here,” she said. Philip had won two straight rounds. And in this game, it meant the winning player was able to finally know how to read the losing one’s hand beforehand.

Philip gave a sheepish grin. “Afraid to sleep off the bed?”

She ignored his statement. “Fine,” she said after so much deliberation. “We’ll divide the bed.”

“That’s very wise of you,” her husband said with amusement.

“But you can never cross to my side,” she reminded.

“Deal,” he said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. After all, they had been sitting with half their butts in the air for more than five minutes now. “That was the most exhausting thing I’ve ever done in bed with anyone,” Philip muttered as he settled himself in a more comfortable position.

“I promise you that it’s the only exhausting thing you’ll do in bed with me.”

“Don’t promise anything you can’t keep, Cassandra,” he said seriously. She looked at his blue eyes and what she saw almost made her gape: Fire. Electricity. Hunger.

Was he stirred up by their close encounter earlier?

She knew she was.

She chose to ignore his comment and climbed out of bed. She needed a shower.

“Where are you going?”

“Taking a shower.”

“A very cold one?”

“Shut up,” she slammed the bathroom door behind her.

---

She changed in a light black and white shirt and denim shorts and leather sandals as Philip took turn in the shower. She left a note that she was going out, but did not specify where.

She didn’t have any appointment until tomorrow, but she needed time to be alone and think.

That was what she’d usually do when her mind was reeling with so many things all at the same time: she’d think, ponder and plan.

Though all she wanted was to lie in bed and close her eyes and rest, she was not sure if it was possible. Her mind was exhausted from all the banters she had with her husband. He was not an easy opponent, she had long accepted that.

Dennis was easy , she thought. Shit, Dennis again. Why did she have to think about him every time she was alone? It’s been two years, Cass, get over it, she reminded herself.

There were far more important things she must wrap her head around. One of which was what her father and Philip were hiding from her? Why the sudden marriage? Why the secrecy?

“God, I need a drink,” she mumbled and made her way to the bar.

---

She’d been drowning herself with beer for the last two hours or so alone. Yes, she liked beer. Especially the local Red Horse beer that she had discovered here in the Philippines the last time she was here. But then again, that time she was with Dennis and they enjoyed it together.

Her phone rang and vibrated inside her pocket and she fumbled for it feeling a little bit light-headed. “Yes,” she slurred.

“Where are you? It’s already dark.”

“If it’s not my concerned husband,” she said dryly.

“Cassandra, where are you? Are you drinking? Your words are garbled.”

“I left you a note, so don’t worry.”

“What note? The one that says ‘Went out.’ ?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“It doesn’t really give that much assurance. I already figured out you went out before I found the damn note. Where are you? I’m outside the—”

“How smart of you to point that out,” she cut off. “I’m at the bar,” then she clicked off. He could go to hell. He could even take the bed for himself. She wouldn’t need it. She could sleep anywhere.

She was halfway through another bottle of beer when she felt a presence standing just about half a meter away from her.

“Hi there,” a male voice with that British accent said over her. With half-closed eyes, she looked up and saw an angel. His face was glowing and his smile was beautiful. He must have been enjoying the beaches of the country.

“Hi,” she smiled back.

“Alone?” That sexy British

accent again.

“Uhh…yeah.”

“Can I join you?” He looked like Benedict Cumberbatch, Cassandra thought as she nodded. A tanned Benedict Cumberbatch.

“No, you can’t,” said another voice behind the man. Cassandra groaned. If it was not the devil himself.

“Excuse me?” The British angelic man turned to her husband.

Cassandra could only listen. Her eyes were already closed with the effect of too much beer.

“You can’t join her.”

“And who are you?”

“I’m her husband.” Cassandra chuckled and stood up. She would have graced the floor with her pretty face if the angelic man did not catch her. And she would have said thank you if her dearest husband did not snatch her out of the man’s arms and said, “Let’s go back to our room, Cassandra.”

“But I still have a bottle left…” she mumbled, her limp body sliding down his sturdy one. He grabbed her by the arms and held her up.

They did not notice the angelic stranger back out in disappointment. Goodbye, Benny , Cassandra thought. “You’re drunk,” he pointed out.

“No, I’m not…” she chuckled and opened her eyes. Her gray-blue ones met his deep blue ones and she smiled up at him, their faces just inches apart. “You’re adorable, you know that? But you’re so crazy. You’re like a brat on PMS with your mood swings and everything. I think you’re even more adorable that Benny.” The words tumbled out of her mind, formed by her intoxicated honest brain.

“Benny who? That English bastard?”

“Cumberbatch,” she corrected. “And he’s no bastard! He’s the best!”

“You’re really drunk, darling,” she heard his faint reply.

She lifted one heavy arm and touched his clean-shaven face with her hands and leaned up to kiss him. It was just a little centimeter more and their lips would have met if she did not start to gag and eventually threw up all over his shirt.

Philip instinctively stepped back but it was too late and his shirt was now covered with her stomach contents and he immediately stepped right back and caught her limp body before she fell on the floor.

Cassandra was barely conscious when she felt his arms sweeping her off the floor and carried her out the bar.

I’ll be dead, was the last thought she had in mind before her senses finally left her.

Chapter 11

Philip paced outside the balcony of their hotel room in great disbelief. He was in a strange country with the strangest drunkard woman he had ever met.

Letting the night’s cool wind calm his senses, Philip organized his thoughts. He reminded himself of why he was here.

He was here to save his ass and his family. He was here because he had to. He was here because that was what Kurt Anders bargained for.

He turned and walked back inside the room. He watched his sleeping wife.

She was a mess. Not because of this marriage, but because of something else before all of this even started.

Shaking his head, Philip reminded himself why he was here again.

Not because of her , he thought as he walked to his side of the bed and settled down.

---

If you had ever been so drunk and passed out, then you’d understand what a great burden a hangover is. That’s what it was for Cassandra the moment she opened her eyes. Her head was aching so badly and the rays of sun hitting her eyes only made it worse.

“God, I’m never drinking again…” she moaned, trying to get up but failing miserably. Well, that was another thing with hangovers: they always make you say something like that.

Her body was aching and her mind, aside from the headache, was in a blur. She couldn’t remember what happened next after the…what did she really remember? Oh, yes, the phone call from Philip…then Benny with that sexy accent…then Philip again…then…she couldn’t go any further because her brain was seriously in pain right now. She blindly reached out her hand sideways and froze when she felt a man’s chest.

Bare

chest with smooth, tiny hairs. She rolled her eyes to her right and stifled a shout when she saw Philip’s sleeping form beside her. Carefully, she lifted her pinky finger from his chest, then the ring finger, then the middle finger…forefinger…thumb…and ever so gently, she lifted her palm from his muscled chest which was heaving with easy, smooth breathing pattern. His left arm was sprawled over his head and his right one was at his side.

Cassandra was almost afraid to peek inside the comforter that covered him from navel down. If he was naked up, he could be very well be…okay, stop right there.

Fully awake now with a throbbing head, Cassandra slipped out of the bed as slowly as she could and the moment her feet touched the floor, she noticed her clothing. She gasped and covered her mouth. She was not wearing her black-and-white shirt and her denim shorts anymore. Instead, she had on one of the black nightgowns her mother packed for her! It was too silky and too revealing and…

“Oh my God,” she whispered, throwing her head back at Philip. That did it. She grabbed a pillow and slapped it down his head. “What did you do to me!” she shouted.

He shot out of bed in a matter of seconds and Cassandra gasped for the second time when she saw what he was wearing. Of course she had seen men in boxers and even without, but God, her husband was too hot and too angry to look at right now, so she hastily turned around to face the glass door that led to the balcony.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Philip exclaimed harshly. She didn’t need to turn around to know he was practically scowling across the bed at her.

“I should ask you that question! Where are my clothes?”

“What? What clothes?”

“The clothes I was wearing last night!”

“You mean the ones you showered with your gastric contents?”

“What gastric contents are you talking—” she stopped, the events from last night finally falling into pieces. She dropped her head and moaned, “Oh, good God. I threw up.”

“Yes, and you did not only throw up on the floor, you splattered most of it on my shirt—”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” she stood up, stopped, and sat back down again when she realized she was wearing close to nothing. “Don’t tell me you’re the one who stripped me of my clothes…”

“Of course I did it—” he received another flying pillow for that before he could finish the sentence.

“You could have just shaken me up or splashed water on my face so I’d wake up and do the work myself!”

“You were drop dead down, Cassandra! And I was not in the mood to wake you up. I found out you are better to manage not awake.”

“What else did you do?” she glared at him accusingly.

His face went blank, “What do you mean?” and when he understood what she meant, he smiled, “well, you don’t remember?”

Her eyes widened in horror. “Remember what?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and said, “It’s for me to know and for you to remember,” and with that he turned around to go to the bathroom. He closed it before another flying pillow reached him.

---

“Where are we going?” Philip asked for the tenth time during breakfast.

“For me to know and for you to find out,” she answered for the tenth time.

He took a deep breath and looked at her intently. “We should talk about your constant drinking.”

“I’m not a drunkard, okay? I like drinking from time to time,” she said rather defensively. “And don’t tell me my defensive act is a sign of an existing problem. It’s not. It was the first time for me to pass out like that.”

His eyebrows raised in challenge and disbelief, “Really? Because it’s the second time I saw you drunk, you know.”

“Yeah, of course, I know that. It’s just coincidence,” she waved him off with one hand as she finished her eggs. “Let’s go, we’re gonna be late.”

“Where are we—” he did not finish his question knowing the answer. He just stood up and followed her out the restaurant and to the lobby. Cassandra was wearing a simple white shirt with a small coconut print at the back; light brown shorts; and sandals. Her husband chose a green shirt, cargo shorts, and sneakers. When she first saw him wearing those black sneakers, she almost laughed. It was not like Philip Strindberg to be wearing something too casual.

“We should get a car,” he told her as they climbed inside and she told the driver their destination.

“I don’t drive and even if you insist to do the honor, I won’t be riding shotgun,” she retorted.

“Oh, yes, I remember. You have problems riding in front. Why is that?”

She turned at him with a look that said, stop prying. She never shared that part of herself to anyone. Except one person and that was Harrison.

---

Philip was certain that the shock on his face was visible when he realized what her wife would be doing. They were in an orphanage managed privately by an organization headed by a Filipino man named Gilmer, also an artist.

Cassandra was a guest who would be spending the day with the children to teach them the basics of painting and the enthusiastic aspiring artist children of all ages stared at her with wonder—mostly because they rarely saw an American lady who they could converse with.

“Kamusta?” Philip watched Cassandra greet the children in their native tongue and the children chorused different responses. “I’m Cassandra and I will be here to guide you with your lessons. I am here for vacation but Gilmer here asked if I can spare a day with all of you.” She turned to Philip and motioned her hand saying, “That guy over there at the corner is my friend Philip. He’s going to help me give out paints and brushes. You can keep them, of course.”

It was a wonder the children actually understood her. Well, almost everybody in the world has English as their second language.

Philip barely had enough time to wrap his head around the fact that Cassandra engaged in this kinds of activities. And in the presence of the children, Philip was actually in a fair mood, helping with whatever way he could. His face was full of unhidden amusement and admiration as he watched her go around, bending over little children and helping them with their paintings.

“So, this is what you do?” he asked when she sat beside him on a bench at the corner of the room.

“You mean you don’t know what your wife is doing?” Gilmer asked, hearing his question. He was seated across them on a stool. “And you never told me about getting married the last time we talked, Cassy.”

Philip cleared his throat. “Of course I know she’s an artist, but it didn’t occur to me she’d fly across the globe to teach…children,” he said defensively.

“Darling, I wanted to keep it a secret,” Cassandra replied, turned to Gilmer and said, “I didn’t tell him about all these. I wanted to surprise him. And I never mentioned him because he is too important.”

Gilmer chuckled and said, “Okay, now I understand why he looked so shocked when he entered the building and saw the children. But as Cassy said, she is here on vacation. Last time she was here with—” Gilmer stopped and cleared his throat while Cassandra looked away, feigning a cough. “I mean, last time she was here, it was solely for work—teaching the children and doing talks in different universities. But now she’s here for vacation and an exhibit, right?” Cassandra gave an awkward nod. “I just got word of it and asked if she can spare us a day.”

Philip ignored the almost-slip Gilmer made. “This is a nice surprise, sweetheart,” he said to his wife instead, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“Glad you like it, babe,” she returned his smile dryly.

But the guy was staring across them with curiosity, “You use so many endearments—I noticed.”

Cassandra and Philip were taken aback by the comment for a few seconds before Cassandra forced a chuckle and said, “We love

endearments we wanna use them all, right honey?“

Philip nodded his head vigorously, “Yes, we do.”

“You know, here in the Philippines, couples usually stick to one endearment for each other. It makes it special. You should settle for one,” he urged.

Philip wanted to snap at the man to mind his own business but refrained doing so.

Cassandra just smiled, “Hmm…maybe we’ll do that.”

Philip was smiling now as well and when he turned to look at her, his blue eyes were mischievous, “What about cupcake? Honeybunch? Boo?”

“Are you kidding me? Never,” she cringed. “No, never.”

“Darling? Babe?” he offered once again, “You know, you just called me babe for the first time a few seconds ago. I like it.”

He knew she was fighting off a scowl. “Fine. Babe it is,” she answered.

“Good decision, babe…” Philip said, turning to Gilmer with a forced smile, happy to end the conversation.

“I was just kidding, you know,” Gilmer said with a laugh.

Cassandra instantly stood up and cleared her throat, “Let’s get back to the children, shall we?”

Chuckling, Philip nodded and followed her back to the busy kids, Gilmer in tow.

“By the way,” Gilmer told them and they stopped in their tracks, “I already reserved a two-night stay for you guys in Boracay.”

Cassandra frowned. “I thought you said it’s going to be Palawan?”

Gilmer shrugged. “You said the usual spots, right?”

Philip saw how Cassandra tried to cover a strange look on her face with smile. “Boracay it is then!”

Philip frowned, “Boracay?”

The smile was still on her face when she faced him. “Babe, didn’t I tell you? Oh, yeah, maybe it slipped my mind,” Cassandra told him.

“Told me what?”

“That we’re going to the beach!”

,ۓpt

Chapter 12

“Hey, are you listening to me?” Philip nudged her.

“What?” his wife asked sleepily.

“Can you scoot over? You’re occupying like three-fourths of the bed here,” he nudged her one more time, lifted her arms and dropped it over her chest.

“I’m tired, can you stop that?” she moaned. She was already half-asleep and he was still making a lot of noise.

He rolled her to her side and sighed in contentment. “Good, stay that way.”

She rolled right back, her arm flying over his face.

“You must be kidding me, right? Look, I’m tired as well so better keep on your side of the bed or I’ll make sure we’ll be doing something else here.”

Cassandra immediately turned away from him and pulled the comforter over her shoulder and scooted away.

“I thought you’ll do that,” he whispered and dropped back on the bed and closed his eyes. “Good night, babe, see you tomorrow.”

“Jerk,” she muttered under her breath.

---

They left most of their suitcases in the hotel and left for Boracay the very next day. Cassandra brought with her the backpack that contained her valuables and some clothes. Philip carried a bigger bag which had some of the work he brought with him. She was not able to find any available flights directly to the island so they took the plane to Iloilo City, hired a van to take them to some place where they had to ride a pump boat to Boracay island.

By the time the boat arrived, they had to walk on water and she had asked him—loud enough for everyone on the boat to hear—if he could carry her on his back. Of course he did it. He was too conscious of everyone that looked—and still was—looking at them with amusement and awe.

“You really planned this,” he said with a grunt.

“Of course I did,” she chuckled on his back.

“I would love to drop you right now,” he clenched his teeth.

“That will really disappoint our fellow passengers. I told them you’re the perfect gentleman,” she teased some more and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I’m gonna get you for this,” he gritted.

“Save your breath, babe. I don’t want to be embarrassed in front of so many people if you suddenly drop dead on white sand,” she pushed her body up and he grunted once more. “A white man dropping dead on white sand!” she chuckled at her own wit.

When they reached dry sand, he let her slip off his back and almost fell over. It was no easy task, she knew it. She was not heavy, but she was not light either. And their bags were…well, quite some extra weight.

“Let’s go,” she led him to their hotel just a few paces away from the shore. It was a really great place and there were a lot of tourists like them everywhere. Restaurants and bars lined up along the shore. And outside each establishment, their knee-high tables spread out on the sand with cushions, the water just about ten steps away.

Dennis had loved this place , she thought with that constant ache in her chest. They should have gone to Palawan instead, she thought with regret. There were just too many memories here.

“You don’t look good,” Philip said beside her. His face was flushed from carrying her.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled and walked on faster.

---

It was Gilmer who did the reservations, so again they had to share a bed. Not that it would be much of a problem anymore.

She went straight to the sliding doors leading to the terrace overlooking the beach and breathed the salty air. Philip became busy arranging his laptop on the coffee table, folders in hand. She shrugged. He was probably way behind work, so she’d let him be for now. She walked to the bed to lie down a little bit when her phone rang.

She frowned and asked aloud, “Did you give my number to anyone?”

“No,” came the short reply from her husband—he was already engrossed looking at his computer screen. “Why?”

She did not answer; instead, she punched the button to accept the call and said, “This is Cassandra Anders,”

“Strindberg,” she heard Philip mutter behind her. “You’re a Strindberg now.”

“Cass, it’s me, Harrison, where the hell are you? I’ve been trying to contact you.” Cassandra almost dropped the phone.

“Harry?” she asked. “I—I’m out of the country right now.”

“What do you mean you’re out of the country?”

“I’m in the Philippines…” she trailed off. She saw Philip look at her intently over his computer. “I’m here for…work,” she said the half-truth.

“When are you coming back?”

“Uhh…Saturday, I guess.”

“I’ll wait for you then. I’m back in town. I’ll be at your house Monday morning.”

“No, I won’t be there,” she said. Philip already told her she’d be moving in with him once they get back. “I’ll call you up and we’ll meet somewhere else, is that okay?”

“Who’s that?” Philip asked, unable to contain his curiosity any longer. “Is that the guy who left you the message?”

“Who’s that?” Harrison asked from the other line, hearing Philip’s voice.

“No one,” she answered both men. She turned sideways to avoid Philip’s demanding gaze.

“That did not sound like no one, Cass,” Harrison uttered.

Philip already got up and started walking toward her, his eyes seriously curious and pissed. “Give me the phone.”

“Like hell I will,” she hissed at him, covering her phone with one hand.

“Then end the call right now,” he ordered.

“Who are you? My mom? Go away,” she snapped.

He took a step back.

“Harry, I’ll call you back when I get home, okay? I’m really busy right now.”

“But—” she disconnected without saying goodbye.

She threw daggers at Philip with her eyes. “Don’t ever do something like that again.”

“I’m your husband and I have the right—”

“You don’t have any right! You forced me into this marriage and now you’re prying into my private life?”

“Your private life will also reflect mine. I told you I don’t want any—”

“I very well remember what you told me, so back off. Harrison is a friend and I don’t want you to ever think of interfering between me and him again. He’s one person I don’t ever want you to meet, so again, back off, Strindberg.”

He looked at her suspiciously. His forever tousled brown hair seemed to have turned red with anger and his blue eyes were dark with contained frustration and ire. She didn’t really get it why he was so afraid of her having an affair. Oh, yeah, he was a Strindberg. His name was on the line. “Why can’t I meet him?” he finally asked in a flat voice.

Because of Dennis, she almost answered. “Because I want some part of my life to be mine to control without you or my father signing on it,” she snapped and circled around him to walk out the door. It was one thing when Cassandra was pissed and the other when she was furious. Most people would choose the first over the latter. This time, she was really furious.

Harrison was an important part of her life—he knew everything she’d been through—and she was still struggling how she should tell him about her current situation if he would not find out before she even did now that he was back in town. Friends started to send her messages about the news of her marriage. It would not be long before Harrison would discover it too.

She knew he’d try to understand, but he’d be hurt and confused for sure.

After all, Harrison had been wooing her for quite some time now and she had been rejecting him ever since. How would he react when he found out she suddenly finally decided to get married?

Chapter 13

“I’m going out,” Cassandra stated hours later.

“You just got back,” Philip said. He was still hunched over his computer with papers spread out over the coffee table.

“I’m going to have dinner and go to this club…” she said, tightening the string of her two-piece behind her neck.

“You’re going out like that,” he stated wryly.

“It’s Boracay. People go out wearing stuff like this everywhere. Haven’t you been to L.A.? Don’t tell me you’ve never been to any beach party.”

“Actually, yes, I’ve been to L.A., but this is a strange place, Cassandra. You don’t just go out wearing something that invites trouble.” And he belatedly added, “And no, I haven’t been to any beach party.”

Cassandra whirled around in surprise. “No, like never?”

“Yes.”

“You’re missing half of your life,” she shrugged and started for the door. Her anger had subsided hours ago, but she was not going to let him know that. The tension between them was still there, and so let it be.

“I’m going with you,” that one shocked her even more.

“You are? Why?”

He stared at her for a second, and then his gaze went down to look at her outfit. She was wearing a pair of plain white bikini and short denim shorts. She was planning to stroll barefooted. And as he looked at her, his face was unreadable but his eyes looked like he was ready to pounce and devour her. Unnerving but gratifying at the same time.

“What?” she asked him again when he failed to answer. That snapped him to his senses.

“I also need dinner…and a drink.”

“Fine. Go get ready.”

“I’m good to go,” he stood up and walked with her to the door. He was wearing the same light-gray shirt and knee-length black board shorts and his black sandals.

Cassandra didn’t know why her heart began to hammer as they walked out the hotel. She was going out to dinner and drinks with Philip, and something told her she had to put up guard to her already surging feminine senses. She of all people knew how alcohol could make you do things you only dream about.

---

“Why beer?” he asked an hour later.

“Because I like it. Do I really need to explain that?”

“This one is good,” he said, holding and examining his own bottle of Red Horse.

“And strong too,” she reminded, “so take it slow.”

“Yeah, I believe you. You’ve been enough evidence of that.” The beer helped them both relax and enjoy the moment and the music. They sat outside the bar where some cushions were available for those who wanted to be away from the crowd. For the first time, they chose to forget they needed to fight and do crazy things to each other.

The beer helped, Philip thought.

“You’ve been here before?” he asked.

“Hmm… yes, for a couple of days. My…” she cut off her sentence and there it was again—that weird look on her face. “…but my companion and I chose to go home early the last time. There has been some kind of fire in this area.”

Philip nodded and leaned back, his hands behind him on the sand. There had been a man in her life. He was certain of it now. But the atmosphere and the two bottles of beer made him choose not to pry.

“When are you going to tell me the real reason why you decided to marry me?” she asked.

His brow arched an inch. “I told you—I’m not the person to tell you that. It is part of the contract.”

“Stop lying,” she said in a lighter tone. “Dad told me there is no contract. Not one with you getting me for a wife at least.”

Philip was surprised. “He did?” When she nodded, he turned to her with a frown. “Then why did you marry me? You knew you did not have to.”

The question brought a bitter laugh out of her throat. “Despite the craziness of all this, I know my father is in big trouble and when he told me this is the best solution, I believed him.”

Philip relaxed a little. “Then why all the questions?”

“You think I am that stupid? Of course, I would want answers. I may have gone through this wedding with eyes shut but there is no way I am getting out of this hell without knowing the truth. And I figured you are the best person to tell me what my father has gotten himself into.”

“I can’t tell you anything. Just believe what your father told you. It’s all need-to-know, trust me.”

“Yeah, right,” she said dryly. “You’ll tell me eventually. I promise you that.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

---

Cassandra was suddenly feeling tired to make him talk. She had plenty of time to do that once they got back home. Cassandra looked around her and smiled, feeling the cool wind of the ocean. She looked ahead where the waves were gently splashing against the shore.

Dennis had enjoyed this place, she thought. Then she frowned. Or was it simply her? She could not remember Dennis dipping in the water. He always had his phone with him the whole time. No, of course he enjoyed his stay here. Or maybe he didn’t and she only thought so.

There she was again. Doubting each moment she spent with Dennis. The doubting started a long time ago but she had always denied them, thinking she did things right. She did everything that made him happy. He must have enjoyed being with her. He must have.

Cassandra cleared her throat to block the tears.

“I think I’ll go dip in.”

He frowned, “Dip in?”

“The ocean,” she tipped her chin at the direction of the waves.

“It’s dark out there, Cass, I don’t think it’s safe. No one’s even out there.”

“I won’t go far,” she stood and started walking.

“Hey,” he tried to call, but she knew he knew her enough to know that she was never going to listen. “Damn,” he muttered and followed after her.

Cassandra had already reached the part where the water met the shore. She dipped her foot into the fresh wave and jumped, surprised by the coldness. “God its freezing!” she shouted, laughing.

“Cass, let’s go, you can’t possibly take a dip in this water,” Philip took her hand and began to pull her back.

She pulled right back, chuckling. Yes, she was not such a good drunk all the time. “Just one dip!”

“You’ll freeze to death!” he shouted as the wind grew stronger.

The beer could have been a sort of energy drink for her because she was able to get away from his grip and she started to run. Philip ran after her, caught her around the waist, and carried her back from the waves, shouting about her impulsiveness. She struggled with a laugh and that was what made them both land on the sand.

“I give up,” he said, feeling the pain on his back, his eyes closed. Cassandra landed with him, but it was mostly his fall because she was on top. He rolled to his side with a grunt, not letting go of her waist. Her back was against his chest and when her drunken laughter finally subsided, she turned to face him with laughing eyes.

“Thank you,” she said in a whisper.

His eyebrows met. “For what?”

“For making me laugh,” she replied as she wiped away a tear.

“You laughed on your own,” he retorted, “because you’re drunk.”

“It’s still the same,” she said, “I wouldn’t have laughed if I was alone.”

“Are you sad?” he asked. His question was broad and sounded stupid, but she knew what he meant.

“No…yes…maybe.”

“Is it because of this marriage?”

She chuckled again, “No. I’m pissed and angry to what you and my father did, but it is not something to cry over. I know how to deal with it.”

“But you can’t deal with the reason that keeps you…unhappy,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Cassandra just smiled in response. She was drunk, but she had learned a long time ago how to keep quiet and keep things to herself with or without alcohol.

“You make me wonder about a lot of things about you, you know that?” his eyes looked deeper into hers. Their position on the sand was not uncomfortable at all. Actually, the wind was helping ease down the haziness the beer had brought earlier. Like real lovers, they lay there on the sand, arms around each other talking and gazing into each other’s eyes contentedly without bothering to have another brawl.

For the first time, they were at peace.

“Like what?” she asked softly.

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Why you fear riding shotgun? Why you wear a façade to hide the great sadness I know is there somewhere… and many others.”

Cassandra was quite taken aback. She didn’t know he was that observant.

“How can you say I’m unhappy?”

“Your eyes…I don’t know, I just know,” he shrugged and she saw him grin genuinely for the first time.

Cassandra returned the smile, but it did not actually reach her eyes because she was quite busy looking at his really edible lips. When she returned her eyes back to his, she saw that same fire of longing again. She knew that look. She had seen it in his eyes from time to time, but it easily went away every time they got into an argument. And she was quite sure he could see that same longing in her eyes as well.

She felt his arm tighten around her and his head drew closer, his lips getting nearer.

Cassandra closed her eyes and tilted her chin to meet his kiss.

Chapter 14

As the kiss deepened, Cassandra felt all her defenses crumble and she let herself fall into a new wave of sensation she forgot she missed. It had been a long time since she ever felt like this.

She felt Philip’s hand roam over her body restlessly and she did the same. It must have lasted minutes or hours, but they both didn’t care. This very moment they chose to surrender to what their bodies wanted.

And yes, again, thanks to the beer.

But of course, just like in the movies, when everything was just getting better, something or someone always came along to shatter the moment. In their case, it was an old Filipina woman walking with her dog. Who walks a dog in the middle of the night in a place like this?

The dog started barking at their direction, sending them back to reality.

Philip groaned against her mouth before he leaned back, his eyes closed in control. Their breathing had become rapid. Cassandra rolled away from him and sat up, feeling for the strings of her bikini behind her neck. Her eyes had gone wide when she noticed Philip had managed to pull it off from its knot.

“Americans…” the old woman said, shaking her head while pulling her still barking dog away.

When they were alone again in the darkness, Cassandra cleared her throat. She was mentally slapping herself back and forth right now. She couldn’t believe she just made out with her husband—her transient husband—on the beach!

“I think I need to sleep,” she scrambled to her feet.

“I need to get back to work,” Philip mumbled and stood up beside her.

She stole a glance at his face. It had become unreadable and blank.

What was he thinking?

She began to panic. Maybe he was thinking she was going to be easy after all. Maybe he’d do something to her tonight. And she was not so sure if she would try hard to fight him.

Slap! She mentally scolded herself again. That was just the beer, she reasoned. Yes, definitely has to be the beer.

Philip led the way back to their hotel and to their room. No one dared to speak a word. It was more like a silent mutual agreement. They both had to cool down from the heat of their little encounter .

Cassandra almost ran to the bathroom to shower and change. When she got out, Philip was back in front of his computer, his face morphed in a frown. She wondered if he was frowning at what he was seeing on the screen or what happened earlier.

She’d never know unless she asked him and that was not ever going to happen. Sleep would help, so that was exactly what she did.

---

When Cassandra woke up the next day, Philip was not around. Curious, she called out for him but no answer came.

She got up and found the note near the door. Went out.

Ah, sweet revenge.

Now she felt what it was like to read a note that only said went out.

She came back to the bed and took her phone from the bedside table. She was about to call him when it rang. It was Harrison again.

“Harry,” she answered.

“I went to Dennis earlier,” he said. She did not bother to answer. “I realized I did miss him and now I’m missing you.”

“Harry,” she said calmly, “please…don’t start with that.”

“Look, Cass, it’s late here and I haven’t been able to sleep. Ever since I got back, you’re all I’ve been thinking about. I know Dennis will understand,” he said pleadingly. “I’m rambling,” he gave a dry chuckle as he said that. “Okay, let’s talk when you get back.”

She nodded and said, “Yes.”

“Why don’t we go visit Dennis together?” he asked. “I mean when you get back. You know he’ll be happy.”

“Harry, Dennis is the past I’m still trying to get over,” she pointed out. “And no, I guess he won’t like it when he knows I’m still not over what happened when I go see him.”

“Okay, whatever you say. But we’ll talk, right?”

She took a deep breath and said, “Yes, we’ll talk.”

“By the way, I read an article about a wedding. The bride’s name is Cassandra Anders.” Harrison laughed and Cassandra swallowed with dread. “Unfortunately, no photos were posted. The guy’s a Strindberg and the media was banned from the place. But would’ve loved to see the face of the bride. See if she looks anything like you. Didn’t know your name is that common.”

Cassandra tried to laugh. It came out really wrong.

“Anyway, see you soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” she managed.

“Bye,” and then he clicked off. Cassandra sat on the bed looking at the phone in her hand, her thoughts miles away.

“So, who’s Dennis?” Philip asked casually behind her.

She jumped in alarm. “How long have you been there?” she asked.

“Long enough to hear another mysterious name like Dennis,” he answered, opening his computer. “Don’t you have any female friends?”

If he heard the name Dennis, then it meant he also heard the not-getting-over-him part. Shoot. She didn’t want him to know about Dennis.

“No one,” she answered.

“If you say so,” he shrugged.

Her jaw dropped. Did she hear it right? No demands for explanation this time. Right, she should often do the walk-out scene she did yesterday. It definitely worked.

“Where did you go?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Went to buy souvenirs,” he pointed at the large expensive-looking paper bags by the door.

“You bought those below?” She meant the souvenir shop of the hotel.

“Yes, why?” he asked when he saw her laughing face.

She snorted, “I can’t believe you bought souvenirs below.”

His frown deepened. “Why?”

“Oh, babe, you just wasted a lot of money.” She let out a hearty chuckle.

“I don’t understand. What’s so damn funny?”

She walked to the bathroom and said, “Just wait till I buy my souvenirs…”

---

Boracay is divided in three stations namely Station One, Two, and Three. Their hotel was located in Station One which was quite a walk to the other stations. And Cassandra walked all the way to Station Two with her unwilling husband in tow.

“Where exactly are we going?” he asked her. His face was red with the hot sun and his skin had dried. He held a bottle of energy drink in his hand as he struggled to keep up with her pace.

Dressed in a yellow halter dress and white sandals, she looked back at him, taking in his gorgeous look. He was wearing a light white shirt he probably bought at the souvenir shop and a pair of gray board shorts and his black slippers.

Have your fill, Cassandra, because that expires in six months, a voice whispered in her head.

“Just follow me. We’re going to the Palengke ,” she answered.

“ Palengke ?“

“It’s the local term for market,” she answered.

“How do you know so much about this place if you’ve only been here once?”

Cassandra rolled her eyes, “Gilmer told me all about it, okay?”

“When?”

“Yesterday, through text.”

He frowned. “You’re text buddies with Gilmer?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied absently, concentrating her eyes through the series of huts and bars along the way. Like in Station One, bars and restaurants line up along the shore but Stations Two and Three were quite crowded and it was hard to find the alleyway Gilmer told her about.

“Why?”

“Why what?” she was not really focusing on the conversation at hand. “Oh, thank God!” she uttered when she saw the big sign of the Palengke and she swiftly turned to the direction of the alley that would lead them to the big surprise she had in store for him—well, it was not that big actually.

“Why are you text buddies with Gilmer?” he rephrased his question.

She stopped for a second and turned towards him. “Where are you going with this?”

By the look on his face, he must have realized he was nagging for no reason at all. She couldn’t understand why he had to question every freaking guy name connected to her life at all.

When he did not answer she said, “Good thing you can’t answer that. Let’s go.”

Like a lost puppy, he followed her. Of course it was not willingly. She didn’t understand at all why he tagged along what with all his work and he did nothing but whine.

They finally entered the Palengke and a crowd of people and tourists greeted them. It was not weird at all to be there, she realized. Foreigners were everywhere.

“Hey, I bought something exactly like this,” she heard Philip mutter behind her. Turning her head to see that he had stopped at one stall among others and he was holding a little wooden keychain in his hand. He looked at the price and his eyes widened.

“I knew you’ll be surprised,” she uttered in amazement.

“It’s only a dollar,” he said in disbelief.

“And how much did yours cost again, babe?”

He opened his mouth to answer but stopped in embarrassment. “It’s close to a dollar,” he shrugged.

Cassandra laughed out loud. “Yeah, like I would believe that. It must have cost you five or more.” She turned around and walked on.

“It was just three…” she heard him mutter behind her and she snorted.

Something caught her eyes from a stall on her right and she asked, “How much is that shirt of yours by the way?”

“I got it for only five dollars,” he said proudly.

Smiling, she walked to the stall and took the shirt that looked exactly like his and asked the Filipina girl, “How much?”

“120 pesos,” the girl answered shyly.

Cassandra mentally converted the money. “Three dollars,” she announced.

“What the hell!” Philip gaped at the shirt beside her. “It must be fake or something. Mine’s cotton.”

Cassandra felt the shirt and said, “This one’s soft as cotton, babe and I’m buying it.”

“Why?”

“Because I would like you to be reminded that you made a big mistake going into that souvenir shop,” she told him, fumbling for cash. She took the shirt and put it on over her dress. Looking at his shirt and then at hers, she said, “Couple t-shirt. How cute.”

“Take it off,” he said seriously.

Straight-faced, she arched her brow and said, “Make me.”

“Whatever,” he said after a few seconds of deliberation.

“Okay, let’s go,” she walked to the direction of the exit.

“We just got here. I thought you’re going to buy souvenirs?”

“I just bought one for one specific purpose.”

“Aren’t you going to buy your parents something?”

She smiled wryly. “No, I don’t need to buy them anything just to let them know I enjoyed my honeymoon.” With that, she walked on.

“Let’s go back to the hotel then,” his voice suddenly etched with irritation.

“No, not yet. We still have something to do.”

“And what is that?” she could feel anger was coming any moment now.

He was pissed with what she said about their honeymoon, and she wondered why. Anyway, she ignored his sudden change of mood like she always did and said, “We’re going island hopping.”

“No, I have work to do.”

“No problem, I’ll go alone.”

“It’s your choice. As what you said, I don’t have any right to stop you from anything.”

“Exactly,” she retorted.

“Just be sure to come back with limbs intact.”

“I swim like a fish, so no problem.”

“Good.”

---

Cassandra went to join the other tourists alone. She couldn’t let Philip’s sudden bad mood keep her from having fun on her own.

Their guide told them to keep watch of each other and she thought she should have brought Philip along after all. Her companions were mostly couples and she was the only one without a partner.

No worries, she reassured herself. I can pretty well take care of myself.

Their first stop was on an island with too many rocks for her liking, but her creative self was at awe with them so she spent most of the time taking pictures for possible subjects to paint for later days. When her companions were too busy taking pictures of each other, she saw a sign that led to the hidden cave and she followed the path it pointed to.

I like hidden caves,

she thought . And yes, of course she went because what Cassandra wanted, she did it—with or without company.

There was a small hole where one had to crawl through to reach the cave and she struggled through it. When she reached the cave, she was more than mesmerized. It was so beautiful and captivating. The waves from the ocean rushed in through a bigger opening of the cave, the one that opens to the ocean. She busied herself taking pictures and when a pump boat came into view through the bigger opening, she eagerly snapped a picture and froze.

Wait, she knew that pump boat. With the horror running from her feet to her heart, she reviewed her camera and looked at the last picture she had taken and zoomed it in. “Oh my God,” she gaped, recognizing the faces of her companions.

“Shit!” she cried out.

The pump boat left without her!

Chapter 15

“Stupid!” she cursed herself over again. Scrambling out of the cave, dread dawned on her once more. As expected, her companions were gone—all of them.

“No signal, no food and no water—except the whole salty ocean of course,” she muttered angrily. “Philip will definitely kill me—that is if they come rescue me and find me alive. But will he look for me? I bet he’ll jump with joy. Then he’d call back home with a feigned broken heart to announce to his family that his wife of one week died because of stupidity during their honeymoon…” she continued to ramble on until she reached a shaded area with trees. She frowned when she realized she did not need that much of shade. The sun was starting to go down.

She checked her watch and gasped in horror. They left the resort by twelve pm, arrived at the island by one…and now it was freaking four o’clock in the afternoon! She had been inside the cave for what, two hours? Cassandra groaned. Note to self: keep watch of your watch.

Her only hope for now was when another batch of island hoppers came here.

Of course! Tourists come and go around here. Ha! My dear husband will be very disappointed if I turn up alive.

One hour passed, still no signal and no island hoppers. It was another hour more that she realized why no one came near the island. The water was freaking going up! The sun was halfway gone behind the horizon. This time, Cassandra allowed herself to panic.

She fumbled through the small body bag she brought along with her. Ever since she watched Cast Away, she made it sure she always had a lighter with her. When she found it, she gathered twigs and fallen branches and began a fire. The strong wind made it difficult, and after many attempts, the fire finally grew large enough to eat through the dry branches and leaves. Cassandra smiled to herself. Tom Hanks will be awfully proud of me.

An hour later, she felt her stomach grumble, but she had to wait and continue to feed the fire. The sun had long been gone and what was left were the wonderful hues of orange, red, and violet of the sky.

---

Philip had been pacing around their room for almost an hour. He had inquired the front desk and his wife was not seen around the area since they left.

He checked his watch. She should have been here an hour ago.

Shit. He should not have let her go alone.

He quickly dialed Henry Bell and impatiently waited for the call to connect.

“Yes?” his friend’s voice asked from the other end.

“She’s missing.”

“What do you mean she’s missing?”

“Send your men out here this instant,” he ordered.

“Calm the fuck down, Philip. What happened?”

“She went on an island hopping tour alone and she hasn’t been back since.”

“How many hours has it been?”

“Five or so.”

“Did you check with the front desk?”

“Yes. They said the hopping tour ends before sundown. The sun is fucking setting now, Henry, and she’s still not here.” He stopped pacing. “Send your men here.”

“You know you’re at the other side of the world, right? I do have contacts there but they cannot be there in a flash. Have you checked if her boat has arrived yet?”

“I’m about to.”

Henry was silent for a short while. “Okay, since we have to take this seriously, go down there and find her boat. If she is still missing by then, alert the coast guards. Start a search. I’ll call in on some people and ask to hold all boats and planes in the area as long as they can.”

“Okay,” Philip said, already running for the door.

“Philip, we can’t lose her. If something happened to her or if they had taken her, Anders will go nuts—”

He knew that and he did not have to be reminded. “Just go make your calls,” he snapped as he bounded out of the room.

---

If only Dennis is here, Cassandra thought. “No, Dennis is not here and you’re on your own, stupid. And Dennis has always been incapable of surviving on an island,” she uttered aloud, fighting back the tears.

But why was she fighting it anyway when no one was around to see her cry?

So she let it flow freely. She cried her fear of dying alone in this goddamned island. She cried her anger towards her father for signing the stupid contract that led her here. She cried the bitterness she felt for Philip who was selfish enough to not think of how she might have felt by giving her no choice to marry him. She cried for Dennis for leaving her, hence all this crazy things.

Beside the fire, Cassandra laid her head on her knees and cried. She wailed like a child. Angry, hungry, and afraid.

Then she stopped.

She didn’t wail like a siren. The wailing continued and she perked her head up and saw the most wonderful red light. It was turning around and around…towards her direction…towards the island.

“Philip…” she uttered, scrambling to her feet. “Philip! Hey!” she waved her hands, jumping up and down. In excitement, she picked up a long twig from the fire and waved it in the air. “Hey!” she shouted. She knew she’d be safe and rescue was coming, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

This time, she waited for the rescue boat to dock and when it finally came to shore, someone jumped into the waters and ran towards her.

“Philip!” she ran up to meet him and skidded to a stop. “Oh, oh…” she said under her breath as her husband’s angry feature stormed towards her. She wished she did not throw the burning twig as she took a good look at his angry face.

“Are you out of your mind!” he shouted when his face finally loomed over her.

Cassandra immediately took a step back. “Philip, I—”

“Are you happy now? Did you make your point? Are you jumping with joy to know I’ve been going half-crazy looking all over for you on a foreign freaking island!” he took one purposeful step toward her.

She backed again, her eyes full of tears of relief and fear. “Philip, I didn’t mean anything like this to happen, I swear! I didn’t—” her voice broke once again as fresh tears overwhelmed her. “I didn’t know…I was taking photos and then…and then…God, I was so freaking afraid myself! But I didn’t…” she couldn’t finish her sentence anymore. She was too shaken. She was pretty sure she’d hate this very moment by the time she regained her old self.

Through tear-streaked eyes, she saw his expression soften. He held out his arms and she willingly stepped against his warmth and cried some more. Yes, she’d definitely hate this moment later.

“Calm down. You’re safe now,” he whispered gently against her ear.

She nodded.

“Let’s go,” he guided her to meet the rescue team and she was attacked by blankets and hot drinks. Someone took her vital signs and checked her eyes and asked her questions. And while all of that happened, Philip held her hand in his while his free arm stayed around her shoulders.

---

They arrived back to their hotel in no time and Philip immediately ordered for food to be brought to their room. Cassandra did not have the appetite, but he forced her to eat something.

“No, I can’t take in more,” she said weakly. Her experience must have drained her of energy and all she wanted to do now was rest.

“Okay, but you have to change first,” he reminded her.

She nodded and went to the bathroom to change.

Philip took the time to send Henry a message.

Found her. She’s safe.

When she got out, Philip was back at the balcony drinking wine.

“Philip,” she croaked. He slowly turned around and when their eyes met, they smiled faintly in understanding. “Thanks,” she muttered and walked to the bed.

Philip sighed. He did not like that the sense of panic he felt earlier was not rooted from the problems he had back home. He panicked thinking bad happened to her.

---

They did not discuss what happened that night the next day. Maybe because both of them knew that talking about yesterday would only lead to another quarrel and they were already exhausted.

The only thing close to a quarrel they had was when she tried once again to talk Philip into carrying her on his back for the last time , something he had strongly warned her not to do before they left the hotel, when they were about to board the boat leaving Boracay.

Cassandra had already forgotten the horrors she experienced and was back to her old self and she was quite sure it kind of disappointed her husband.

He thinks I’m gonna go down to depression or shock? Not gonna happen, she thought to herself when she saw Philip’s horrified and irritated look when she gave him his plane ticket.

“And I thought somehow, while you were in that island, you might have been enlightened,” he let out a breath as he looked at his ticket.

“Enlightened in what way?”

“Enlightened to be a more humane wife,” he retorted.

“Babe, stop sulking. I know you’ll fix that ticket,” she said wryly. “And of course, I will be greatly disappointed if you can’t sit at your original seat, but well, you’re a Strindberg and you always get your way.”

He ignored her and turned around to call about his ticket. He’d never ride at the back of the plane again.

---

By night time, they were back at Metro Manila and at Shangri-La Hotel.

“Oh, oh…” she stopped at the door.

“What?”

“We forgot something,” she told him.

“What?”

“Pictures. We never took a single picture together.”

“So?”

“Wouldn’t your family demand some pictures? I know my mother would.”

“We’ll tell them we never left the hotel and stayed in bed the whole time and that whatever pictures we could have taken would probably make them puke,” he stated, pushing her through the door. “And leave that box in your suitcase when we leave. Your mother will wonder why it’s still untouched.”

Cassandra’s jaw dropped. “How did you—”

“When I dressed you, remember?”

Yes, of course she remembered now. “Mom gave them to me. It wasn’t mine,” she said defensively.

“Don’t worry, babe,” he flopped on the bed. “We could use some right now if you want,” he sneered at her appalled look.

Cassandra blushed, remembering that night by the shore… No, no, no, stop right there . That can’t happen again.

Well, maybe not this soon . She slapped herself mentally at that last thought.

Looking at her husband lying on bed with that awesome body she had been given the privilege to mini-explore once awakened her senses again. This time she mentally punched her gut to stop her wicked thoughts.

“We can make balloons out of them,” she snorted, completely diverting the real topic of how he meant to use the box

her mother gave her. “And we can sign them and everything and we’ll let them float through the window—that is if they float. Do they float?” She should erase the picture of the box

and her husband in her mind right now or she’d go insane.

He laughed out loud at her sudden change of thinking.

Not that she had heard him laugh often, but Cassandra found his laughter pleasing and she… Cassandra, stop it right now,

she ordered to herself. You can’t think of him in a different way. It will be highly dangerous.

Gathering herself, she went towards him and said, “Scoot. I want to rest. We have an early flight tomorrow.”

“Ah, yes, we’re finally going home,” he said dreamily.

She looked at him suspiciously. “And why the amusement?”

“You’ll see…” He laced his voice with mystery. “You’re gonna love being my wife, babe.”

Deep in her conscious mind, Cassandra doubted his every word.

Chapter 16

“Where exactly is your home?” Cassandra asked behind her husband.

By the time they arrived yesterday, they went their separate ways to go home. Cassandra packed her clothes once again for the transient stay at his house. The very next morning—which was today—he picked her up.

He shot her a glance. She knew he was pissed that she was seated at the back of his car. Cassandra was nearly traumatized the last time he urged her to seat in front and when she saw the boxes still present when he came, she remembered he said they were just full of crap so she transferred them in the trunk along with her suitcases, ergo his very foul mood.

“Where exactly is your home?” she asked again. They were nowhere near the tall buildings anymore. “Don’t tell me you live outside the city…”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” he retorted.

She stared at him incredulously. “You drive more than an hour to get to work?”

“I work at home.”

“And how do you manage to turn up in time…all the time?”

“Time management—which you obviously don’t have.”

“Of course I know how to manage—”

“And I drive fast,” he interrupted and looked at her through the rearview mirror and added, “Except when I have some crazy person riding with me who can’t handle more than 30 miles per hour.”

She pursed her lips. He was right though. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience then,” she snapped.

“That’s okay, babe. I’m sure you’ll need time to rest anyway before you start on your chores.”

Her eyes flew towards him. “What do you mean chores? I’m not doing any chores!”

“If you’re staying in my house—which you don’t have a choice over—you’ll do your own share of chores.” He smiled for the first time that morning. “It’s in the contract. Signed and sealed by your dad.”

He was mocking her. It was a challenge. She couldn’t back out of a challenge.

But his mood swings were making her feel she was doomed for the rest of six months. Unbelievable!

---

His house was amazing though—really amazing. And it was really—really—out of the city, way out and too private, too.

At first, you would think it was a small cabin, but once you get closer and looked beyond the trees that covered most part of it, you would see the most magnificent collaboration of modern and nature.

It was made of big trunks and the glass windows surrounding the bigger rooms like the living room and dining room were gigantic they were like walls—well, maybe they were because they ran from ceiling to floor. The moment Cassandra entered the front doors a staircase greeted her which then led to the four rooms of the house. To the right of the staircase was the dining room and deeper into that was the kitchen. To the left of the staircase was Philip’s office and at the end of the corridor, at the back of the house was the living room surrounded by the glass walls looking out at the woods. You could actually circle around the house because the living room was directly connected to the kitchen and the dining room in one open space.

“I want to see my room now, please,” Cassandra told him a few minutes after the tour.

“Come with me.” He led her up the stairs one more time and to the door to the left. He opened it and she entered the tidy room. It was probably the guest room and it was apparent that no one had stayed inside ever since—well, perhaps since the house was constructed.

They went busy putting all her painting equipment and suitcases inside her room and when they were done, he handed her a piece of paper.

“What’s this?”

“Schedule.”

“Of what?”

He looked at her sarcastically. “Of your lessons.”

She just frowned and looked at the chart. “You printed a schedule of the chores? You’re unbelievable!”

“I plan ahead,” he retorted, shrugging his shoulders.

“You’re rich enough to lend my dad millions but you don’t have a housekeeper. Amazing.”

“Why will I need one when I have you?”

“I’m not your housekeeper, “she waved the paper at him.

“I didn’t say you are,” he answered. “And I never had a housekeeper.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like strangers in my house,” he replied simply and went back to his original topic. “Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, you do the cleaning and laundry and cooking. I’ll do Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Sunday, we do it together.”

“You clean your house every day? How do you manage that?” she asked incredulously. “Okay, don’t answer that. Time management—I know.” She couldn’t believe he was such a neat freak!

“And you can’t paint just anywhere,” he added. “You can’t go into the woods without company.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me. It’s not just any woods out there. You can get lost. And I’ve had enough of you getting lost,” he fixed her a meaningful look.

“Where do I paint?”

“Anywhere outside except the woods or your room. Anywhere else is forbidden.”

“Fine,” she snapped.

“Questions?”

“No.”

“Then start cooking. I’m hungry.”

“What?”

“It’s Sunday.”

“I thought you said Sunday is we-do-it-together day?”

“I’ll do the laundry. Or would you rather want to do it instead?” He arched one questioning eyebrow at her.

“Fine, fine. I’ll cook.”

---

“This is not lunch. This is breakfast.” Philip frowned down at the food she laid on the table. It consisted of eggs and ham.

“That’s all I can cook,” his wife uttered matter-of-factly.

His eyes narrowed. “This is just one of your make-my-husband-suffer episodes, right?”

Cassandra frowned. “What? No. As much as I’d love to see you suffer, I can’t really cook. I tried to tell you that.”

He took a deep breath and sighed. “Lucky me I got a wife who doesn’t know a thing.”

She paused in the act of sitting. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing.” He reached for the eggs and started eating.

“I’ll be going out tomorrow by the way so I need you to tell me how I can get a ride here.”

There it goes , he thought. Shaking his head, he said, “You can’t go out tomorrow. Tuesday, you can.”

“Why is that?” she demanded.

Because it is not safe. “Because it’s Monday tomorrow. You’ll have chores.”

“I can do them when I get back.”

Philip sighed. “Where are you going?”

“I’m meeting a friend.”

His jaw clenched as he looked at her. “No, you can’t. Tell your friend you’ll meet on Tuesday.”

“Whatever,” Cassandra said. She was refusing to have another argument with him. That in itself was suspicious enough.

---

She called Harrison that night after a very tiring day of cleaning and Philip’s incessant nagging to clean up her room. He was indeed a proclaimed control freak.

“Cass! Are you back in New York?” Harrison’s voice boomed.

“Yes, yes, I am…” she trailed off. Well, she was not exactly in New York. She was in the middle of the woods inside a house with her domineering, arrogant husband.

“Why are you whispering?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” she said hastily. “Look, can you pick me up?”

“Sure, I know your place,” he said.

“No, no, I’m somewhere else,” she told him Philip’s address.

“Isn’t it outside of the city?”

“Yes, it is. Can you pick me up?”

“Sure.” Curiosity was apparent in his voice. “Cass, are you in trouble?”

“Of course not!” she hissed. But I’ll be in trouble tomorrow that’s for sure , she thought. “Just text me if you’re about a minute away from the address I gave you. Don’t call. Text, okay?”

“Okay, okay. I get it. God, you sound like a teenager about to escape out your window.”

That’s exactly what’s gonna happen , she said to herself. “Just be here before lunch. 11:30 sharp. Don’t be late!”

“Okay…”

“I got to go now,” she disconnected and threw her phone on the bed and prayed silently.

She needed to see Harrison. Somehow, she needed someone to tell about her real situation. Her other friends were out of the picture and she couldn’t trust them as much as she could trust Harrison.

Who is he to tell me when to go out?

A sudden burst of excitement and thrill surged up her spine. This was going to be far-fetched from Prison Break, but she now knew what Michael Scofield must have felt.

Chapter 17

Cassandra literally jumped out of her bed, pillows and all. “Dammit!” she snapped her head at the direction of the door which was banging just a few seconds ago. “What?” she groaned.

“Open the door,” Philip’s authoritative voice said from the other side. Cassandra’s eyes narrowed. She knew he was always bossy, but that side of him was quite forgotten when they were in their honeymoon and now that they were back—and at his territory—he was worse.

“I’m still having a hangover from my dream!” she shouted as she swung the door open.

“What dream are you talking about?” He seemed surprised that she was still in her sleeping outfit which was an oversized shirt and a pair of boxers.

“The one where I was burying you in the woods after cutting your throat,” she said, pursing her lips, her eyes unwavering.

“You were sleeping?” he ignored her last statement and stared at her incredulously.

She stared at him sarcastically. “No, I was just messing with you…of course I was sleeping!”

“It’s already ten in the morning and you haven’t fixed breakfast yet.”

His statement made her freeze. “It’s ten?”

Philip looked at her intensely, his freshly shaven face showing signs of impending outburst. “Yes, and there are still the dishes you promised to wash yesterday but chose to forget. And then there’s the lawn—”

“Okay! I get it!” she slammed the door at his face.

“I’m not done talking!” his voice was muffled by the heavy door.

“I heard enough! And I’m getting ready!” She hurriedly changed her clothes. She better get breakfast ready so he’d shut up. Then she’d do the dishes before she left. The lawn would have to wait for tomorrow. Ah, yes, tomorrow will be Tuesday so he’ll end up with the lawn.

Once properly dressed, she stormed out of her room and bumped against her husband who must have caught the morning glory all for himself because he smelled just wonderful and looked—well, angry, obviously—stunningly fresh and handsome. “What?” She immediately stepped away before she could think of having him for breakfast instead of the planned ham and eggs.

He looked down at her outfit. She was wearing a black shirt and a pair of dark pants. “Are you going out? I thought I said you can’t go out today?”

“Am I prisoner here?” she arched her eyebrow.

“No, but the chores are in the contract and you should follow them.”

“You and I both know there is no contract so stop talking about it! And who fool would ever think of including stupid things like household chores in a contract?” she asked incredulously. “Oh, yeah, it’s you.”

“I took you for my wife for a reason…” he said coldly, stepping closer so their chests were only inches apart, “and I need order inside my house. It’s only fair that while you stay here, we divide the work.”

“Whatever you think you are doing for taking me as your wife, I don’t really care because as far as I know, no one here is wise enough to trust me with their stupid secrets, my father included!” She circled around him.

“Cassandra,” he called behind her.

“Don’t worry, babe, I won’t get out of that blasted front door!” she shouted. He was unbelievable and despicable! He was not going out of this house because he worked here and he expected her to do the same? Was it because of his secret with her father?

She stomped down the stairs to the kitchen.

“You can go out only during your free days,” he said behind her rather gently. “Or after you do all of your work.”

“Yeah, whatever…” she opened the freezer to get some eggs. “I understand your urge to control everything around you and it includes me, right? Because for you I’m just a thing you want to run around over your palm.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” his voice was etched with irritation once again.

She whirled around to face him. “Then what was the agreement with my father all about? Why are you helping him? Is it part of your philanthropic projects? Or is it when you decided to help my dad, you thought at the last minute, ’

Oh, I would like to have a wife to do my bidding!’

and so you asked for me?“

She slammed the door of the refrigerator and finished, “Well, news flash: You got the wrong wife.”

“This is just for six more months while we fix things and with your stay here, I want you to respect my decisions—if not as a wife, as my companion here.”

“Ugh!” Cassandra cried out. “I want to try to understand and act like an adult here, Philip, but you are making it impossible. You guys are leaving me in the dark and now you expect me to blindly follow. Just…leave me alone, okay? I still have to process the thought that I will be a full-fledged housewife M-W-F and S.” When he simply stared, his jaw tight, she added, “What? You want to tell me the whole story or what?”

He stared at her for a long time before walking out of the kitchen and into his study.

She fixed some eggs and ham. She cared less because she was planning a great lunch with Harrison later.

Thinking of Harrison, a lot of thoughts came to her mind and one of them was how she’d tell him everything.

But again, that was not the problem she had to worry at the moment because she had to get out of the house first without Philip noticing. Of course she could just walk out the door, but her husband’s office was overlooking the front lawn, so it was out of the question. And knowing her husband, he would never let her out with all the work she had to do first. And she had seen the chart he gave her. It was worse than any homework she ever did in high school.

When she was done cooking, she mustered a smile as she made her way to his office and knocked. She had to be nice for even just a few minutes.

“Come in,” her husband’s cold voice called from inside the room.

Cassandra opened the door a crack but did not go in. She felt uncomfortable getting inside his office. She didn’t know why, but his office was like his most personal space and she didn’t feel like invading it. At the very least, she still had the decency to respect his space. “Breakfast is up.”

---

Philip was bewildered at her smiling look and the fact that she did not enter the office was even more startling for him.

He nodded. “I’ll be right there.”

Cassandra forced a tiny smile and said, “Okay!” and closed the door.

After a few seconds, Philip caught up with her in the hall. “Are you okay?” She was acting weird. Again.

“Yes, of course.” She answered without turning around to look at him.

When they reached the kitchen, Philip frowned. “Ham and eggs. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Just eat,” she sat on her chair and attacked her food.

Philip did the same, but with a suspicious look on his face as he continued to stare at her.

“What?” she asked innocently.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, why won’t I be?”

His face turned incredulous. “Just a few minutes ago, you were talking about murdering me and burying my body in the woods.”

“I don’t stay mad that long.” She waved off.

Philip did not believe her. As someone who had faced different individuals from all forms of life in the business, he could easily read what she must be feeling at the moment.

She was being rebellious because she felt betrayed. She would try to outsmart him by doing exactly the opposite of what he wanted.

Her father should have told her everything, he thought. He could tell her but he did not know what Kurt Anders might be inclined to do if he did. And he did not want to risk Cassandra doing anything that might cause Henry’s operations to fail.

All Philip could do for now is the very same thing he promised her father: keep her safe.

After their breakfast, Philip said, “Mom’s coming over with my grandparents for dinner.” He looked at her doubtfully. “Is it possible that you can fix something meatier?”

She shrugged and said, “Yes, of course.”

“Okay…” Philip’s voice was etched with so much doubt now. “They’re arriving by seven.”

“No problem.” She got up and started clearing the table.

He stared at her for a moment, his face curiously suspicious. He got up and walked back to his office, totally at a loss.

He may think he had her all figured out, but he could still not predict everything she might do.

She is not planning to escape, is she?

---

Cassandra blew out the breath she had been holding and hastily washed all the dishes. When she was done, she ran back to her room, locked the door, and checked her phone.

“Shit,” she muttered when she read Harrison’s text: I’m on my way.

She grabbed her boots and bag and walked inside the bathroom. Her heart hammering wildly now, she stood there looking at the big glass window beside the tub.

“This is it,” she murmured as she opened the window and looked down. It was the only window in her room that had the safest landing below. It was quite a jump, but it was safer than the window outside.

Cassandra carefully maneuvered herself into a sitting position, her legs dangling out the window. Next, she hunched lower to let her head and upper body out and she held her breath before she closed her eyes and made the leap.

---

“How long?” Philip nearly roared at the phone.

“Why do you keep asking, Philip?” Henry Bell asked. “We agreed six months, didn’t we?”

“A shorter time than that will be much appreciated.”

“Oh, then please remind me who stumbled into such a big mess?” was his friend’s sarcastic retort.

“The guy who is giving you your fucking work, that is who.”

Henry chuckled at the other end of the line. “Six months, Philip. You keep her, we make Anders happy. Anders being happy means me completing my job. It is that simple, my friend. Anders did a pretty good bargain. Live with it.”

“She is starting to ask questions, Henry.”

“Now you get a glimpse of my life. Live with it.”

He replaced the phone over the receiver without as much of a goodbye and closed his eyes. Pinching the sides of his nose, he urged himself to breathe.

Six months.

However could he live with her for six more months?

---

Cassandra ran, her left leg limping. She did not land perfectly, but at least her limbs were still intact. She glanced over her shoulder at Philip’s now distant house and prayed that he wouldn’t notice she was gone just yet. When it was out of site, she finally stopped and bent with her hands on her knees, breathing heavily. She needed to exercise more often if she was going to stay with Philip for the next six months.

Once her breathing was back to normal, she took her phone and dialed Harrison. As the call connected, she saw a white SUV appear from the bend on the road ahead of her.

“Hey! I see you!” Harrison’s voice said when he answered. “Hang on,” he disconnected just as the white SUV stopped in front of her and the window of the passenger seat opened.

Cassandra smiled at the familiar blonde guy who was already beaming at her from ear to ear.

“Climb on!” Harrison’s deep happy voice said. She walked to the back door and climbed in.

---

“You have to tell me what’s happening with you,” Harrison’s pale green eyes looked at her seriously. His boyish look always amazed Cassandra ever since because it had always made people want to trust him. Not that they shouldn’t, of course. His cool attitude polished his personality perfectly. And though he’s not as tall as Dennis or Philip, Cassandra knew women dig him—especially when they find out he’s a doctor. “Cass,” he urged once again.

They were outside at the terrace of a restaurant back in the city having lunch.

“I’m married.” She hadn’t honestly figured out how to tell him so she decided to say it out front. “The article you saw on the news was me.”

Doubt initially crept up his face, then disbelief and then his mouth slightly opened. “You have to be kidding me.”

“No, I’m not. I’m really legally married.” She used to play jokes on him years ago and she regretted it now. It was hard to make people believe you when you were finally telling the truth.

“When?”

“About two and a half weeks?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Some strands of his straight blonde hair fell in front of his eyes as he leaned forward to look at her intently, studying her eyes to see if she was actually serious.

“I never intended to.”

Hurt flashed across his features and he said, “Why?” Now, she could tell he finally believed her.

“Because it’s not like any marriage,” she said slowly.

“Explain,” he stated seriously, his eyes boring into hers.

Cassandra took a deep breath and narrated her whole story. When she was done, Harrison was already on his feet, his face angry. It was the first time she saw his face flush with so much fury and Harrison rarely had his emotions to the extremes.

With narrowed eyes, he sat back in his chair and said, “Why the hell did you agree?”

“I just had to, Harry. Dad asked for my help and this is how I am supposed to be helping him or myself as what he said,” she explained in a neutral voice. “And,” she stopped him before he could say another word, “it’s just for another six months. So don’t worry, I can handle this.”

“You should have called me,” he reached out to hold her hand. “I could have helped. Is your dad in trouble?”

Cassandra shook her head. “No, you couldn’t have. The deal was already made even before they told me and yes, I think he is in trouble but I don’t know the details. They won’t tell me.”

Harrison looked at her seriously for a long time and then that smile she knew very well crept up his face. “So…” he leaned back against his chair. “How’s married life?” he teased.

Cassandra couldn’t hide her smile. He was trying to make light of things as he always did. “It is hell,” she answered in the same teasing manner.

“Seriously?”

“Nah…it’s fun but of course, it’s not like any normal marriage.”

“How could it be fun?”

“Philip and I fight a lot over small things and I enjoy it most of the time.”

Her friend laughed. “Because you always win?”

“Most of the time, yes.”

Then he frowned. “But he doesn’t do anything stupid, right? Nothing to be alarmed of?”

“No, of course not. He’s quite the gentleman. I think his true role in this stupid arrangement is to keep me safe from whatever trouble he and my dad are in. And he’s doing a pretty good job keeping me safe, I guess.” She didn’t know why she was defending Philip all of a sudden.

“I missed you, Cass.” His sudden change of subject almost confused her.

She cleared her throat and said, “Yeah, me too.”

Harrison sighed, shaking his head at whatever he was thinking. “You know, you should have accepted my proposal a year ago. If you did, you won’t be married to a stranger,” he said it teasingly.

“He’s not really a stranger anymore.” God, she should stop defending her stupid, arrogant husband.

“Are you sure? He could be doing something while you’re gone.”

“He’s working.”

“Then why did you have to meet me a long distance away from your home?”

“I…needed a walk,” she reasoned.

“Cass, is he keeping you inside his home against your will?” another flash of anger crossed Harrison’s face. “Is this what you mean by ‘keeping you safe’?”

“What? No, of course not!” She was not going to tell Harrison about the problems she was having with Philip. He was already mad as it was. “Let’s not talk about me and my transient marriage. Tell me about you. What have you been doing? Dating someone?” she pointed her fork at him.

“No, no someone…” he looked at her meaningfully. “I’ve been waiting for you to reconsider and I guess I have to wait for another six months.” He gave her a boyish grin that made his pale green eyes glitter.

Cassandra sighed. “Harry, my answer a year ago stands firm.”

“You told me you were not ready. If you’ll not be ready six months later, I can wait some more time. I know Dennis will understand…hell, he was the one who told me to—”

“Let’s not talk about Dennis, please.”

“What? Why? It’s been two years, Cass. God, the man’s probably not coming back.”

“Don’t say that. He was your friend. He is

still your friend.“

“Yeah, I know that. But that does not change the fact that I still hold a grudge over his sudden decision to leave you a day before your wedding. You’ve forgiven him, but you can’t still get over him.” He could have received a blow from her if he said it a year or two ago, but now, she was not anymore as affected.

“I can’t ever forgive myself for what I did to him, you know that. I don’t know if I still love him, all I know is that I’m not fully ready yet.”

“That’s why you never went to see him?”

“Maybe.”

“But you’ve married Philip Straydog.”

Her eyes squinted at him. She knew he was doing it deliberately. “It’s Strindberg. “

“Whatever.”

“And it’s different with him, okay?”

“Does he know about Dennis?”

“No, I don’t think he does.” It just occurred to her that Philip may have had an idea. Maybe her father told him? But she had made her parents promise never to talk about Dennis with anyone, including her, a long time ago.

“Are you going to tell him?”

“No. We’ll be separated in six months. There’s no need to tell him anything.” She brushed away the little unease, that slight pang when she uttered the word ‘separated’.

“If you say so…” Harrison shrugged and attacked his already cold steak. Their mood was already spoiled, much to her own fault.

“Still enjoying Doctors Without Borders?” she asked after a while.

His face seemed to glow as he said, “We’re having progress in our own ways. And yes, I still enjoy it.”

“I’m glad to hear that. These people you’re helping are lucky to have you around to help them.”

His answer was interrupted by the sudden ring of her phone. Cassandra knew where the call was coming from before she saw the screen. She punched the tapped the button and continued eating.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

“Nah…it’s just Philip.”

Harrison frowned. “Emergency? Does he know you’re with me?”

The only emergency that can happen is when he gets near me, Cassandra said to herself. “No, he might be checking up on me. His family’s coming over later so…” she trailed off. She did not bother to answer his last question.

Harrison just nodded and her phone rang again, followed by a text message that said: ANSWER THE DAMN PHONE.

“I think I should get this after all,” she excused herself and walked way out of earshot and answered the phone.

“Where the hell are you?” Philip’s angry voice demanded. “How the hell did you get out?”

“I’m shopping,” she lied. And you can check my bathroom window to know how I got out, she added mentally.

“Shopping…” his voice was tinted with different colors of doubt now, “for what?”

“Groceries—for later.” She mentally patted her back in congratulations for her quick mind.

“Where?”

“Uhh… the store, of course!” she made it sure her voice sounded like she found his question stupid.

“What grocery store?”

“The one I’m at right now…” she cringed.

“Cassandra…” his voice sounded dangerous now.

She blurted out the first name of the grocery store she could think of.

“Stay there and wait for me,” he said, “and you better be there when I get there.” And then the line went dead.

Cassandra quickly ran back to Harrison. Her friend looked up at her flushed face as she said, “Bring me to Food Emporium. Now!”

Chapter 18

She did not explain to Harrison why she needed to rush to some grocery store all of a sudden or why he couldn’t stay with her. Thankfully, Harrison had somewhere else to go to and he did not insist for further explanation. Or maybe her friend did have a hint and chose not to pry.

“Call when you get into trouble, Cass. I’m serious,” he said before she rushed out of his car.

Once inside the store, she grabbed a cart and took anything her eyes landed on. She was lost between aisles of fruits when her phone rang. It was Philip, obviously.

“He really drives fast,” she murmured as she punched the button. “What?” she uttered loudly.

“Where are you?”

“I’m somewhere in the fruit section,” she answered, cringing her head to see if he was around. “Hey! I see you! Over here!” she waved her hand.

He was still wearing the same gray shirt and black pants and of course, that same irritated look that only got worse when he spotted her. “Don’t shout. I’m coming over and stay right there.” Something in his tone told her she better run and hide.

Philip strode toward her and though Cassandra knew he was angry, she couldn’t help but stare with amazement. That man walking toward her, oblivious of the admiring glances of women he passed by, was her husband—her handsome angry husband.

Slap! Slap! Slap! She couldn’t look at him that way. He’s mean to you, a voice deep inside reminded her. He’s keeping secrets from you. And he could be a Mafia. Yes, he can be a very bad guy, Cassandra. Very bad.

“Now, Philip, calm down,” she took a step back and whirled her cart in front of her as a barrier and shield.

“Didn’t I tell you that you can’t get out without my permission?” he hissed, bumping the cart in anger.

“I know! But I thought I should do some shopping for later and you were busy working.”

“I didn’t see you walk out the door,” he pointed out. His blue eyes were now throwing daggers at her.

“Of course I did…” not. I promised not to get out that blasted door if you can remember.

They stared at each other for a long, tense moment.

Finally, when Cassandra couldn’t take it anymore, she smiled at him, “Now, babe—”

“Don’t babe me right now, Cassandra.”

“What? Okay, you’re mad. I understand that. But since you’re already here, why don’t you help me? Come on…” she stepped back, taking the cart with her.

His eyes flew at the cart, and his frown deepened. “Are those avocadoes? How do you intend to serve those?”

She followed his gaze. Yeah, she didn’t know she grabbed those actually. “That’s a surprise,” she said, her thoughts already flying to Google right now.

Without another word, he turned around.

“Where are you going?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “I thought we’re shopping?”

“Yes, of course,” she trailed behind him with the cart. He did not even make a move to help her. Great! And I told my friend you’re a gentleman…

“Hurry, I still have work at home.”

That moment, she wanted to run the cart straight through him in fury.

They spent another thirty minutes arguing over meats and seasonings. Cassandra of course didn’t know a thing about any of it. She just opposed everything Philip chose because that was what her new main purpose in life.

By the time they wheeled their cart to the parking lot, her husband’s face was a subject even the great Leonardo DaVinci couldn’t have painted.

“Are you still mad?” she asked a while later as they drove home. She had rested her elbows at the backside of the front seats and squeezed her body through the space in between. Her head was turned to him, her eyes puppyish. “You now understand that I cannot be ordered around without actual valid reason, right? I did it to prove a point, Philip.”

“Don’t start, Cassandra. I’m pissed as hell.” His voice was like from the underworld.

“You’re pissed because I did not follow your pathetic rule? Try to get into my shoes. You get forced into a marriage and is expected to follow rules without being given a good reason why you should. How do you think I feel right now?” she asked.

He did not look at her, eyes still on the road, but his jaw clenched. “What if something happened to you? You don’t know the neighborhood!”

“I—” she was about to tell him she had secured a safe ride but that would have caused another catastrophic outburst from him. “It was not that dangerous. And plus, I always go out alone.”

“That was before you were married to me,” he said coldly.

“So this is about my safety, is it? You freak out because I might have placed myself in danger. Why? Is this about the agreement you had with my father?”

He refused to answer.

“Yeah, whatever,” was all she could really say at the moment. She leaned her head closer to his shoulder and asked once more, “Are you still mad?”

She heard him take in a deep breath and saw his hands clasp the steering wheel tighter.

“Okay, you’re still mad,” she sighed and pulled back to sit back on her seat. “You better simmer down before your folks come for dinner.”

Again, no answer.

Cassandra had feared for round two

of another outburst from Philip when they neared his house. But as they did, two cars were already parked outside, one of which was her parents’. She frowned.

“I guess we have company,” Philip said in a neutral tone and he stopped the car. “Transfer to the front.”

Cassandra obliged willingly. She didn’t want her in-laws and her mother to raise questions as to why she was seated at the back. The same claustrophobic feeling enveloped her the moment she closed the passenger door, but at least she wouldn’t endure it for too long.

“Smile,” Philip told her as he parked the car just behind her parent’s black sedan.

Smiling had become so easy for her, so it was not so much as a problem.

“My mother has a key,” Philip explained to her as they climbed out and went to the trunk to retrieve the shopping bags. She did not answer. She was thinking about how she would ask her mother to help her with the cooking.

The doors opened as they neared the front steps and Mary’s happy face greeted them.

“Hello, Mary,” Cassandra greeted her and was surprised when she received a warm affectionate hug from her mother-in-law. With her free hand, she hugged the beautiful woman back. The smile on her face was now genuine.

“So, how was your honeymoon?” Mary’s gentle voice asked them.

“It was wonderful,” Philip smiled as he gave his mother a peck.

Cassandra just stared at him in wonder. She liked it better when he was acting.

“We came earlier because William was out early from his physical therapy session,” she looked at Cassandra and added, “Your parents were happy to join us as well. They wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, it worked!” She thought she overdid her excited tone because Philip threw her a look of warning. “Anyway, I guess I have to start cooking.”

“It’s a good thing Philip got a wife who knows how to cook,” Mary said as they entered the house.

“Very lucky indeed,” Philip caught up with them after closing the door. “You should have a taste of her amazing cooking, right babe?” he looked at her with a mocking proud smile.

“Oh, don’t flatter me…” was all she could say. Her mind was already reeling. I’m going to kill you, you bastard.

“Everyone’s in the living room,” Mary led the way.

“I’ll just go get these to the kitchen,” Cassandra said and turned to her husband, “Babe, can you call mom for me?”

He looked at her suspiciously as he handed her the shopping bag in his arms. “Sure…”

Cassandra didn’t care if he thought she would ask her mother for help. What was important was that she had to serve a sumptuous meal for his family.

---

When she stepped inside the kitchen, she stalked around the room in panic. Cooking was never her thing—never.

Thankfully, her mother came in wearing her ever jolly face, her face excited.

“So, tell me all about your honeymoon, sweetheart,” Valerie asked her daughter.

“Mom, let’s talk about it later. For now, you have to help me cook. And you can’t tell a soul that you did.”

Her mother looked at her with a frown. “What do you mean?”

“Philip told everyone I’m preparing dinner which I have no idea how to do because I don’t know a thing about using knives and peeling and meat and avocadoes and—”

“Avocadoes? What are you babbling about, darling?”

“I can’t cook, mom!” she hissed.

“Cassandra, stop. Stop rumbling,” her mother touched her by the shoulders. “Okay, I’ll help you. And while we are cooking, you’ll tell me all about your honeymoon, the places you went to, etcetera.”

“Okay, of course I will.”

Her mother gave her a naughty knowing smile which she did not understand. She pointed at the shopping bags and said, “Take a look and see what we can fix with those.”

“Sure, I will. But first, go to William and Hope. They are ecstatic to see you, honey. Your dad is with them. He’s been a bit weird lately and he won’t tell me why. Go console him and get back here instantly.”

Cassandra suddenly remembered her father must have been feeling anxious and she understood why. Yes, she was still angry but she had been trying to understand his actions.

What her father did, he did it for a reason. She couldn’t forgive him just yet but she might if he and Philip would just tell her the truth. So she went to the living room where her husband was talking with her dad and his family.

“Hi, dad,” she gave her father a quick peck and went to Hope and received yet another warm gracious hug. William took her by surprise when he hugged her tightly.

“Young lady, you’re getting prettier by the day,” the old man said.

She flushed. “Thank you, William.”

“Come sit with us for a while, dear,” Hope told her.

“But I have to fix dinner, remember?” she said aloud.

“It’s only four in the afternoon. Dinner can wait,” Mary told her. She looked at Philip and he just gave her a smile.

“She can fix food in a flash,” he said with meaning.

I’ll kill you, she roared in her mind as she smiled at him.

---

She stayed for another half hour before she returned to the kitchen and when she did, her mother was already making some kind of pasta with chicken and herbs she did not remember buying earlier. She helped in every way that she could and they talked about the honeymoon. She could have been a very accomplished writer by the way she narrated and fabricated most part of the days she shared with her husband in the Philippines. Her mother, ever romantic, listened and questioned almost every detail and Cassandra silently hoped she would not forget what she said and jumble stories up later. There was not a hint that the woman had an inkling of the truth.

Mary joined them after some time and Cassandra was even more than happy to accommodate another help. Of course, she tried her best to handle the kitchen equipment with as much expertise as she could. Hope, William, Philip, and her dad decided to set up a table outside near the edge of the woods with candles. Hope said it would be like a welcoming celebration for the couple. And just when everything was about to be served, Philip came into the kitchen, disrupting Mary’s story of his childhood which Cassandra found too amusing.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, ladies, but I have an emergency.” He looked at her and said, “We have to go.”

“Go where?”

“The mall.”

“Why?”

“Chanty needs our help.”

“Isn’t she coming over?”

“No, my dear,” Mary answered for her. “She and Angelica are going on a road trip or something.”

“At night?” she asked incredulously.

“No, first thing in the morning,” Philip answered, a sign of irritation in his eyes now. “Go get ready. We need to meet her in thirty minutes.”

Confused, she obliged but was happy to drop every foreign kitchen instrument in her hand. She followed Philip out the door.

---

“What does Chanty want?” His wife asked later as they drove to the city.

“I don’t know. She was in a rush and didn’t tell me,” he answered.

When the silence lingered longer than he expected whenever Cassandra was around, Philip checked through the rearview mirror and found her sleeping, her head falling back against the headrest. What in the hell did she do today that wore her out?

His phone beeped and he slowed down the car when he realized it was from Henry.

Got another one from Anders today.

Philip’s eyes went to his sleeping wife.

At the rate of things, they might not have to wait for six months.

---

“Hey, wake up,” she felt Philip’s hand tapping her shoulders.

“What?”

“Get up. We’re here.”

She immediately straightened in a sitting position and their heads collided in a smack. “Ow! Shit, what are you doing bending over me?” she demanded.

“I was trying to wake you up,” he almost shouted as he massaged his forehead. He pulled away from the door and said. “Hurry. The others are waiting for us back home.”

“Why don’t you go check out what Chanty wants? I’ll just wait here,” she laid back and closed her eyes.

“No, I can’t leave you here.”

“Why? Some gangs are out to take me?”

He simply narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t care. I’m beat from shopping and cooking. I’ll stay here.”

“You didn’t really shop alone and I’m damn sure you did not do any cooking.” He bent down, grabbed her hand and pulled.

She groaned in protest but let him pull her out of the car and across the parking lot. She was still in the clouds, her hand still clasped with Philip’s, when she heard Chanty’s familiar voice and that irritating purring sound that only belonged to one woman: Angelica.

Cassandra’s eyes opened fully as she peered at the red haired woman who dared to kiss her husband in front of her just a couple of weeks ago.

“Hello, Philip,” Angelica said with a toying body language that would make any lady flare up in anger and pounce at her.

A strong feeling of animosity and irritation rushed through her and she tightened her hold on Philip’s hand. This time, she was ready for a fight if ever.

Philip nodded at Angelica, “Feeling better? You were drunk last time.”

Cassandra wanted to kick him. He never threw her the same look he was now giving the red-haired vixen in front of them and she wanted to wring his neck there and then. She gripped his hand tighter to get his attention. That didn’t work. His eyes were still busy looking at Angelica’s perfect body dressed in a white fitting blouse and skinny pants. Not Cassandra’s type, but obviously Philip liked his women that way.

“Hi, Cassy,” Chanty’s voice grabbed everyone’s attention. Her sister-in-law gave her a quick peck and would have given her a hug if not for the big bulging thing she was carrying in her arms.

“Hi,” she gave Philip’s sister a broad smile. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she looked at Philip, “except one problem.”

Philip finally tore his eyes away from Angelica who chose to totally ignore Cassandra and looked at his sister—then at the thing in her arms. His approaching frown did a U-turn when he realized what it was. Curious, Cassandra peered closer and almost gasped. It was a baby.

All of a sudden, Philip was smiling, his blue eyes glinting as he stepped closer to his sister and bent down, tapping his forefinger at the baby’s cheek. Cassandra didn’t know what to do. At that moment, while her husband and his sister were busy looking at the baby, Cassandra’s eyes travelled back to Angelica and found out that the lady she had learned to hate after just two meetings was already glaring at her with eyes almost the same color as her hair.

Cassandra stared right back in the same fiery manner, raised one eyebrow and released a taunting smile she knew always worked. It did, because she saw her enemy’s nostrils flare even more.

Contented, she returned her attention back to her husband and Chanty and the baby.

“How cute…” she murmured, stepping closer. Giving Angelica another quick glance, she gave a smile that said I may be new, but I’m family and you’re not.

Who could blame her? She she couldn’t contain her anger. That’s for flirting with someone else’s husband, bitch.

As if on cue, the other side of her brain told her she did not have the right to say that. But for the first time, she chose to ignore it. Philip was her husband no matter what. In short, Philip belonged to her for the remaining of six months.

“Cassy, meet my son Willie,” Chanty announced proudly.

Cassandra hid the surprise in her voice when she said, “Wow…a…son…” Okay, she did not really hide it that well. Chanty had a son? What the hell!

“Philip didn’t tell you?” This time, it was Chanty’s turn to be surprised.

“What? Of course he did. I’m just…still surprised to know…you…got…a…son…” she cleared her throat.

“She tends to forget a lot of things,” Philip came to her defense.

How could he miss something big like this? He should have told me, Cassandra thought. It should have been in his profile!

“Well, anyway,” Chanty took it easily as she expected. “I did not bring him to the wedding because he was sick that time. I wanted you to meet him,” her sister-in-law smiled.

“I’m glad to finally meet him,” she answered gently.

“So, what do you need? We really have to go in a few minutes. The family’s waiting for us back at our place,” he motioned to Cassandra as he said it. Our place. Good thing he did not miss that little detail.

Cassandra saw Angelica glaring at her and she answered by a raising her brows in a very taunting way.

“It’s just a tiny favor…” Chanty trailed off. “As you might know by now, Ange and I are going on a road trip tomorrow and we’ve been planning this for almost a year and I need you to babysit for me.” She said it all in just one simple sentence, but Cassandra and Philip stood there frozen without any reaction.

“What!” they both exclaimed at the same time when her statement finally registered in their stupefied brains.

Philip’s brows were already crossed. “Don’t you have a babysitter?”

“She called this afternoon saying she couldn’t make it. She caught a flu or something and I can’t risk that. Willie just came out of it. Mom and granny will be going with grandpa to Chicago tomorrow afternoon for a charity party and they will be staying there for three days so they are out of the picture. You two are my only hope,” Chanty batted her eyes at them.

Cassandra stared at Philip and at that moment, she was sure they were thinking of the same thing: I don’t have any idea about babies.

“Please, Philip…” Chanty urged.

Philip was silent for a long time before he finally sighed and said, “Okay, but only for three days.”

His sister squealed at the word okay and jumped with the baby in her arms. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” She turned to Cassandra who just awkwardly smiled. “I hope this is not so much of a bother. I promise to send the babysitter as soon as she gets better.”

Cassandra saw how Angelica arched her brow. The woman was giving her a challenging look. “Don’t worry, Chanty. I’m cool with it.”

“Here,” Chanty handed Willie to her and her eyes flew to Philip in alarm. She dealt with children but never with babies. With so much caution, she took the fragile little boy in her arms, ignoring Philip’s amused stare. “His car seat is here,” Chanty bent down and handed the black car seat to her brother and continued, “His diapers, his bottles and formula with instructions are in this bag. I wrote down the important things so just read through it, okay?”

Philip just nodded. He looked funny carrying all those things and Cassandra would have laughed at him if she was not feeling helpless herself.

“Oh God, you look like a real family,” Chanty said teary-eyed. “Let me take a picture!” She fumbled through her bag and took out her phone. “Okay you guys, step closer and smile…”

“Chanty, you don’t have to do this,” Philip complained, his brows furrowed.

“Oh, just smile!” Just so Chanty would stop, they did as she said and smiled.

“Okay, we have to go,” Philip announced.

Chanty went over to Cassandra, held back her dark brown tresses and bent down to kiss her son. “Bye, Willie. Mommy will be home soon, I promise.” She straightened and stared at Philip and Chanty with guilt. “God, I hate leaving him. Maybe I should cancel.”

“No, you have to go,” Cassandra said. “You’ve been planning this, right?”

“Yeah,” Philip said. “You do need the break, Chanty.”

Cassandra couldn’t help but smile. Chanty was a loving mother and she could see it in her eyes.

Angelica, silent during the whole exchange, stepped up and said, “We better go too, Chanty.”

Chanty sighed and gave her son another kiss before she hugged her brother in gratitude. “Thank you, thank you,” she said to Cassandra, giving her a peck.

“It’s cool, Chanty. Go and enjoy the roadtrip.”

Angelica looked at Philip and said with a purr, “See you soon, Philip.”

Philip smiled and looked on as the two ladies walked to the opposite direction with Angelica’s hips swaying purposely in exaggeration. Bitch, Cassandra murmured in her mind.

She glared at her husband and when he saw her face he said, “What?”

“Nothing,” she snapped and snuggled Willie securely in her arms. “Let’s go.”

They walked back to the car and as they did, both of them were busy withtheir own silent thoughts. Obviously, babies weren’t their thing and it seemedthat they would have a problem.

Chapter 19

They drove back home after struggling with Willie’s car seat. Sitting beside Chanty’s baby, Cassandra wondered aloud, “How old is Willie?”

“One year and two months,” Philip answered her, his voice warm and proud. Heck, Willie was the only mistake in his sister’s life that he was proud of. He noted his wife’s calculative look.

“Chanty had the baby when she was what…twenty-five?”

“Yes,” he replied. “And don’t ask about the father. He’s never discussed inside the family just so you know.”

“Tell me about him.”

“Who? Willie?”

“No, the father.”

His brows furrowed. “Why? You don’t know him.”

“I’m just curious, you know.”

“He was Chanty’s long-time boyfriend during graduate school and he disappeared out of Chanty’s life when he found out about the baby. Good enough for you?”

She nodded slowly. “What do we do now? I don’t know how to take care of a baby.”

Philip was silent for a few seconds. “Me too, but it would only be for three days. I guess it’s not much of work.”

“Yeah, I hope so too.”

“You can ask your mom to help,” he suggested as he maneuvered the car to the left.

“She’s busy with her little business and I don’t know anyone else who can help.” Her mother had a flower shop in the city and she spent all her time there.

“I guess we have to work on this one together then.”

“Yeah, I guess so too.” Cassandra was silent for a long time again before she said, “You know what? I guess we have to minimize our little quarrels while Willie’s with us. I read somewhere that babies can already have memories of such things.”

An amused look spread across his face. He scoffed. “You read it?”

“What? Yes I did. Women read stuff like that sometimes,” she said defensively. In Philip’s mind, only women who had plans of having a family would read stuff like that. He realized there was so much about his wife he did not know about.

“Can’t imagine you reading that kind of stuff ,” Philip commented, hesitant to ask questions. He had no right.

“Then I guess you don’t know your wife that much.”

---

She frowned when she saw his jaw clench. With reasons she didn’t know, it seemed to her that Philip didn’t like it when she points out that they didn’t know much about each other. Not that it’s not true, she thought. They didn’t exactly know each other that much.

He had said once that he found it hard to read her most of the time and she could say the same thing about him. Sometimes, he would look distracted just by looking at her and then his eyes would flare in anger by the little things she did. And most of the time, he would look at her with a look that seemed like he was making some kind of tactics for his business. Mostly, it brought her some kind of feeling she chose to ignore.

In short, he’s like an abstract book. He’s as impossible as me.

She was reminded once again of her reaction when she saw Philip and Angelica’s interaction earlier. She had been furious and angry in a way a real

wife would have been. It was not a very good reaction, she thought. She knew—deep inside—that Philip was something more than what she chose to believe him to be, but their situation was different and too horrendously complex that developing real feelings could make it complicated.

The obvious sexual tension was long accepted by both of them, but feelings deeper than that must not be entertained.

You can never be sure about that, that once-in-a-blue-moon voice inside her head spoke. She stopped that train of thought and concentrated on the matters at hand.

Though she was not really eager to start babysitting, she was quite excited in some ways. One reason was that she wanted to have a glimpse of what Philip was like when he would become a father. It was quite hard to picture out, but it sure would be fun to see him changing diapers which she planned would have to be his task because she was never going to change soiled diapers and risk Willie’s accident.

---

When they arrived home, everyone was ecstatic to see the baby.

Willie woke up in Hope’s arms. Mary immediately prepared a formula to feed him while Cassandra secretly looked on to cheat how it was done. William proudly told everybody in every chance he could get that the baby was named after him.

“You two should start thinking of having one, you know,” Cassandra’s mother said over the commotion.

They were outside where the food was already prepared with candles. Actually, it was such a nice evening and the silent sounds of little animals in the woods were like music to Cassandra’s ears—except for her mother’s statement. Philip, who was sitting beside her, casually grabbed her hand.

He smiled at her mother and said, “We’re working on that, right babe?”

“What? Of course not. Yet. But soon,” she said with a nervous laugh. She could stab him with her fork right now. He gave her a teasing smile and she kicked him under the table. He winced and let go of her hand only to transfer it around her shoulder to pull her toward him.

He gave her a long lingering kiss on the lips which she surprisingly realized that she missed. Her mind flew to that night on the beach. She almost forgot how his lips tasted against hers and she did not realize that her hand had willingly gone to rest at his nape.

It was her father’s loud clearing of throat that finally made them realize that once again, they had taken matters out of hand. Cassandra felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment when she saw the amusement on everyone else’s faces. She felt Philip’s arm release her and he straightened on his chair with a smile. Cassandra didn’t know if he meant to punish her for contradicting him earlier, but she was pretty sure they got carried away. Across the table, she met her father’s curious gaze and she quietly groaned.

He knew perfectly well that that kiss was not supposed to happen and she was afraid it would give him some crazy idea.

Willie’s cooing released her and Philip from being the subject of everyone’s mirth.

With her hand slightly shaking from that stark exchange of intense craze with her husband, she forked her pasta, already planning the night ahead. First, she would ask Philip to bathe Willie, then she would assist him in feeding, then she would see to it that he would put him to sleep.

Yeah, that’s what’s going to happen.

---

Finally, when everyone was done and got tired of chatting, Hope passed Willie to Mary and Valerie. It left Cassandra to clean up the table alone since she couldn’t possibly ask Hope to help her because—well, she’s old. “Babe, can you help me here?” she asked aloud for everyone else to hear. Philip had been talking to her father far from William who was sitting in a lawn chair drinking wine. Both men’s faces were serious but she decided to leave them with their secret for now because an emergency was at hand: the dishes.

Philip looked up and opened his mouth, then stopped when he noticed that they were not alone. She bet he was about to remind her of the chart and that it was Monday. Cassandra smiled wickedly as he stood up and went to the table.

“Thanks, babe,” she exclaimed with a cheer and gave him a peck.

“It’s Monday,” he murmured under his breath beside her, reaching for the plates.

“I know. And your family is here, so…”

He looked at her in a helpless fashion and shook his head.

An hour later, Valerie handed back Willie who was wailing at the top of his lungs. God, why do they have to leave now?

“Oh, he’s so cute. You should give him a warm bath soon, darling. It will calm him down,” her mother told her.

He’s cuter when he’s not crying though, she answered in her mind. She swayed on both feet, cuddling Willie closer to her chest and hoped he’d just fall asleep.

“Don’t juggle him,” Philip hissed at her once everyone was gone. “He’d throw up everything.”

“Then what do you suggest I do? He won’t stop crying!”

“Don’t shout. Remember, no fighting while Willie is here. You said it yourself.”

Ah, yes, she forgot about that. “Okay, fine. What do we do?”

“Give him a bath, of course. That’s what your mother said.”

“You do it,” she handed Willie to him.

“Why? I don’t know how to do it.”

“Don’t complain, babe. Willie can hear you. He’d think you don’t want him,” she said tauntingly. He looked at Willie and held out his arms. “Okay, you go get him ready. I’m gonna prepare the bath.” They went back inside the house as she said that.

“His bath soap and towels are in the bag over there,” he pointed at the table beside the door. Cassandra went over to grab the bag and she noticed something. Willie had stopped crying. Curious, she looked back and smiled with amusement at Philip’s pained look as he looked down at his nephew who was clawing on his face.

She couldn’t contain her laughter any longer so she giggled, then laughed and laughed some more. God, she was going crazy. She realized she had never laughed this hard.

“What are you laughing at?” Philip asked, leaning away from Willie and the baby squealed with laughter. Philip smiled as she held up her hand while laughing. “What?” he asked again, this time a chuckle escaped him as well.

“You look funny,” she said in between her laughter, her eyes tearing up. “Oh, look at Willie. He likes you!”

Philip laughingly frowned down at his nephew who was gazing at him with wonder in his little blue eyes. “Yeah, I think he does.” He leaned down at the baby and asked, “You do like uncle, right little man?”

“Okay, I’m gonna get that bath ready,” she grabbed the bag and ran upstairs to the bathroom in the hallway. She shook her head with a smile, Philip’s picture carrying Willie in an awkward way still lingering in her mind.

It was nice to have a little nice break from all the craziness.

---

Less than half an hour later, the two of them crowded over the bathtub. “Hold him tight,” she reminded Philip for the nth time.

“It’s easier said than done, you know…” he uttered, holding Willie by the armpit as Cassandra lathered baby soap over the crying baby.

“He’s not like the babies in commercials.”

Philip caught the laugh that almost escaped his throat. “What do you mean?” he asked, struggling to keep Willie still.

“The babies on TV smile—you know, in commercials.”

Philip scoffed and rolled his eyes at her, “That’s what commercials are for. The caretakers are actually behind the camera doing all the work.”

She shrugged, “Yeah, I just realized that.” When she thought Willie was too red from crying and he was clean, she grabbed a towel. Philip stood up with his arms forward and carried the dripping Willie toward her. She wrapped the towel around her nephew-in-law and took him in her arms, “Hush now, Willie or I’ll drop the hammer down—”

“You can’t say that,” Philip hissed at her in disbelief.

She gave him a pointed look. “It was just a joke.”

“It was a threat,” he retorted.

“Okay, okay, no jokes or threats for baby Willie then.” She turned around to leave before he could say anything further. “Go get his clothes.”

Philip went out the bathroom door after her, shaking his head.

He was married to a possible candidate of the weirdest mother.

---

“Where does he sleep?” they both asked the same time. Their eyes met in question.

“With you,” they chorused.

“No,” again, they exclaimed at the same time.

“Okay, let’s think about this first,” she gently rocked Willie in her arms. She was busy thinking when she saw Philip reach out a hand and brushed some strands of her dark blonde hair behind her ear. That simple gesture ignited hundreds of voltages throughout her body. And her husband acted like it was nothing—as if he did it every freaking time. Cassandra cleared her throat and said, “Why don’t we put him in the spare room?”

His calm face turned incredulous.

“Okay, okay, not the spare room then.”

They were silent for another minute and when Philip finally spoke, he said, “We’ll sleep in my room.”

“We?”

“Yes, we—which consists of me, Willie, and you.”

“Why do I have to sleep with the two of you?”

“Because Willie has to sleep in safety. He could fall off the bed if it was just me.”

“Babies aren’t supposed to sleep in beds yet, do you know that?”

He stopped, “Really?”

“Yes. It’s not safe even if with adults at either side. We could accidently smother him or something.”

“And you read about that as well…”

“Yes, I did,” she snapped. “We’ll sleep in the living room floor. That way, there is nowhere else for him to fall.”

“The living room’s not for sleeping,” he reminded her.

“Do you have OCD or something? Because I really think you should go see someone with your obsessive-compulsive behavior.”

Philip closed his eyes to contain his temper. “Okay, fine. The living room then.”

---

She let Philip hold Willie to make him fall asleep because she realized their nephew was more comfortable resting his chubby pink cheeks against his uncle’s broad shoulders, while she busied herself on layering comforters on the floor and rearranging the furniture against the wall. Philip watched with disapproval, but kept silent.

“Okay, I think we’re good,” she patted the soft layers beside her.

“Shh…” her husband hushed as he slowly bent down, resting one hand behind Willie’s sleeping head.

But the moment the baby’s head touched the comforter, he started to wail.

Cassandra wanted to cry in anguish. She was too tired and Willie was not helping at all. “Give him to me,” she said, kneeling on her knees. Philip’s face was contorted in helplessness now and she knew he was as tired as she was, what with all his efforts to make her stay inside the house and fetching her at the grocery, etcetera.

She got up and decided to sway the still crying baby gently. She could already feel her eyes stinging and her arms were almost getting numb. She actually wanted to cry in frustration.

“It’s not working,” she said, but there was no answer from her husband. “Philip—” He was already lying down on the comforter with his eyes closed, obviously asleep. She fumed. “Hey,” she prodded him with her toes.

He groaned and turned to the other side.

“Philip,” she hissed, kicking him now. “Wake up! You can’t let me do this alone!”

“What? I’m too tired, Cass,” he moaned, forcing his eyes to open.

She raised her eyebrows at him, swaying Willie wildly. God, he’s getting heavier by the minute… “Babe, you can’t just possibly let me suffer alone here,” she kicked his butt this time.

“Fine, fine, fine…” he forced himself to sit up and with puffy eyes, he held up his arms. “Give him to me.” She did just that and Willie immediately fell silent.

Cassandra snorted, “Ahh…you’re the lucky one, I guess. He likes you. Congratulations, babe.”

Philip groaned deeply in his throat and stood up. Cassandra sat with her hands around her knees and looked up at her husband. He was not really looking too good right now, but he was trying hard to keep his eyes open while dancing back and forth on both feet, swaying Willie.

“You can sleep if you want,” he whispered, probably seeing her eyelids halfway through her eyeballs.

“No, I’m fine,” she contradicted, secretly pinching herself. He could get tired and might need her help.

After almost thirty minutes, Willie’s head dropped back and Cassandra was almost certain it was a sure sign that he was in the underground of his own little baby dreamland.

“I guess you can put him down now,” she whispered at Philip.

Philip was too willing to do just that and laid the baby beside her.

Cassandra watched in fascination, realizing that he was getting good at it. “Wow, good job, babe,” she whispered with a smile. Philip slowly and carefully repositioned Willie in the middle of the comforter. Cassandra held her breath and crossed her fingers. Please, let him stay asleep…

Their loud sigh of relief was audible in the dimly-lit room when Willie stirred but did not open his eyes. Cassandra kneeled down to surround Willie with a rolled up comforter, a barrier against her and Philip.

“Time to sleep,” Philip declared, gently lying down at Willie’s left side. She transferred to his side and plopped her pillow.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I am a very restless sleeper. I don’t trust myself lying beside Willie.”

She wrapped herself in a blanket and turned away from him. “Not bad for the first night, huh?” she asked with a smile, her eyes already closed.

“Yeah, I guess so…” Philip answered beside her and she felt him turn away from her to face Willie.

“Good night,” she whispered.

“Good night,” Philip answered and silence reigned as they drowned in their sleep.

---

Willie must have been exhausted as they were because they never heard a single cry from him, and when morning came and the sun flashed through the glass walls of the living room and touched her face, Cassandra smiled and inhaled the manly scent against her. She could feel the arm over her waist, but she frowned when she felt that her pillow was not as soft as she remembered it. Slowly, she opened her eyes and it rounded in shock when she saw Philip’s sleeping face just inches above her. And her head was lying on his upper right arm, his right hand securely locked around her.

She tried to move and she felt him stir against her and when she looked up again, his blue eyes where already staring down at her.

“Hmmm…I wonder how we got here,” Philip’s husky voice said.

Cassandra felt her cheeks heat up—and it was not from the sun. She forced a smile, “Hi, good morning.”

He grinned down at her and said, “Good morning to you.”

Cassandra didn’t care that they were not really fighting right now, that they lay there comfortably with their limbs around each other, and she didn’t care to think of logical things as her husband’s face went down to kiss her lips.

Her eyes instantly closed, eager and ever ready to allow her to relish on the warm and igniting feeling of being kissed as thoroughly and tenderly.

At the back of her mind, a small voice whispered, This was bound to happen, and she agreed with it.

Philip rolled on over her, their lips locked in a fiery embrace of passion. Their breath became ragged and she could feel his heart hammering against her chest. Cassandra let herself get lost once again in that same familiar, passionate excitement she thought she would never experience again. She felt his hands roam at her sides as he pressed lower against her. She willingly grazed her hands through his already rumpled hair.

Last night, people were present when they shared that kiss during dinner. But right now, there was no one else to stop them except if Willie woke up and started crying.

That thought made her freeze. Willie.

“What now?” Philip asked against her lips, his face slowly drawing frustration.

“Willie!” She gasped and pushed him off her, her eyes sweeping the room in alarm and panic. “Where’s Willie?”

The little haven of rolled up comforter remained untouched and Cassandra felt a momentary sense of relief. This was why babies were not safe in bed with their parents!

Willie’s sleeping spot was left undisturbed but he was not in it.

“Where’s Willie?”

Philip immediately stood and she couldn’t help but notice that he had changed into his boxers and she fought hard not to close her eyes and concentrated on the emergency at hand. He straightened his white shirt that must have crept up his chest during their little activity just a moment ago. “Willie?” she heard him say in alarm.

“Oh my God, where is he?” she asked aloud. Her mind was already running through series of possibilities: Baby Willie kidnapped, Baby Willie crawled out the house, Baby Willie lost in the woods…

News flash: William Strindberg Jr. was found missing by his aunt and uncle as they were busy making out on the living room floor… Slap! She had to get that kind of crazy ideas out of her head right now.

She stood up and straightened her clothes. “Willie? Baby? Where are you?” Yeah, he can coo and all but he can’t really answer you with a full sentence, stupid.

“Willie?” Philip walked to the direction of the hallway. “Go search the whole living room. He might have crawled under any of the furniture.”

She nodded in haste and quickly went on with her task.

“Willie? Oh God… baby, where are you?” she cried out gently, her eyes starting to water. Chanty will kill us.

She went behind the sofa to check and was just about to turn away when she stopped.

Wait, what’s that?

Slowly, she whirled around on her bare feet and looked down once again and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Philip!” She cried at the top of her lungs, “Oh my God! Philip!” Her eyes widened and she clasped a hand over her mouth.

Chapter 20

Philip appeared in the living room in a flash, his eyes lighted in alarm. “What?”

“Look,” she said and held out her arms at the space she was facing at the back of the sofa.

Philip almost ran to her side and his face widened in surprise and alarm when he saw what she was excited about.

“Oh my God,” Cassandra uttered once again, this time beaming from ear to ear. “I didn’t know he can walk,” she whispered.

Philip was gaping as he stared down at his amused nephew who was standing with his hands at the back of the sofa for support. “I didn’t know he can stand.”

“Is he hurt?” she asked in concern. They didn’t know what happened to Willie or where he had been since he woke up. She made a move toward the child but Philip stopped her.

“Wait, let him be,” he said, watching in fascination.

“Maybe he can already stand like that. After all, he’s one year and two months. Go ask Chanty,” she said, bending down to smile at Willie who squealed in laughter at her face.

Philip ran for his phone and returned, already talking to his sister.

“What did she say?” Cassandra excitedly asked.

“Yes, he’s standing right this moment at the back of the sofa,” he said to the phone, ignoring her question. Cassandra flew toward him and pressed her ears to his phone to listen. Philip rolled his eyes and turned on the speaker and held his phone in front of them.

“Oh, well, he does that,” Chanty’s voice said. “He started scrawling and standing a few months ago.”

Hearing his mother’s voice ringing around the room, Willie squealed once again and the unexpected happened. He walked.

“Hey, you still there?” Chanty asked. Cassandra and Philip did not hear a word as they stood frozen on the spot, looking down at Willie’s unsteady gait as he walked toward them, his tiny little hands held up for the phone. “Philip?” Chanty asked again and Willie squealed, his rosy cheeks shining with the rays of the sun.

“Uh…does he by any chance know how to walk?” Philip asked, finding his voice.

Cassandra was already jumping up and down, clutching his arm in excitement. She stifled her cry of joy as she watched Willie make another cautious step forward.

“No, he can’t walk just yet. I’ve been waiting for that milestone. Why? Philip, why?” Chanty’s voice had grown excited now.

“Because he’s walking toward us right this moment, Chanty!” Cassandra couldn’t hold her silence any longer.

“What? Oh my God, are you serious? Oh, my baby! I want to see right now!”

“Hold on, I’ll make a video call,” Philip excitedly went through the motion on his phone. When it was ready, he took Cassandra’s hand and they stepped back from Willie. He held up his phone camera at the child for Chanty to see.

“Oh my God! My baby is walking! I’m so proud of you, Willie!” Chanty cried out.

“Oops!” Cassandra cried when Willie stumbled on his feet and dropped on the floor on his butt.

Philip made a move to get him but Chanty’s voice stopped them. “Don’t get him! Let him stand on his own!”

He looked at Cassandra and she nodded. “Yes, he should learn how to stand on his own. Don’t worry, he’s okay…”

He looked back at Willie who was just about to cry but was already struggling back on four and standing. Slowly, he nodded and watched in anticipation as his nephew staggered toward him, arms held out.

Cassandra and Chanty cheered and they spent the next hour recording videos and cheering for Willie.

---

That morning was great, but the rest of the day was like hell for both of them. Willie was too proud and happy to walk and they had to bar the foot of the staircase so he couldn’t crawl up. They had let him walk around, but mostly, it was Cassandra who had to watch over him since Philip was busy cleaning the house and doing secret work inside his office.

Chanty called a few times and Mary and Hope called after hearing the news from Chanty.

Though her husband was too busy, she made it sure he did the changing of Willie’s diapers as she promised. It was messy at first try but he was an expert the second time. Cassandra took pity on him and prepared dinner of salad and the leftover pasta from last night. As Philip munched on the food, she fed Willie with mashed potato on her lap.

“Chanty said Willie’s babysitter will be coming over tomorrow afternoon,” he told her.

“Really?” she found herself feeling somber all of a sudden. Willie had touched her fast and she’d miss taking care of him. She and Philip hadn’t had any serious argument since the baby came and she was almost afraid it would all change when they were left alone again.

She had also seen another side of her husband she never expected to see. Like one time earlier, when Willie accidentally tore one of the papers he was reading which she was sure was very important, he reacted calmly and took Willie in his arms for a kiss after telling him he shouldn’t have done such a thing. Well, she wondered if Willie understood what he said, but it was sweet all the same.

Philip must have noticed the drop on her face because he said, “We can always come see him, you know.”

“I know,” she answered in a whisper, feeding Willie’s open mouth.

“If you want, we can take Willie to the park tomorrow,” he peered at her bent head and when she snapped it up with a smile on her face, he grinned. “Yeah, I guess that’s a good idea—if you wash the dishes,” he added.

“Sure!” she instantly replied, already thinking of tomorrow.

She received a call from Harrison later that night, but she had to cut him off because she was busy watching Willie and following him around.

By the time Willie fell asleep on Philip’s chest—face down with his chubby extremities spread out—as her husband lay asleep on the comforter, she ran for her camera and snapped a picture. They both fell asleep the moment Philip laid back and Willie walked toward him and dropped on his chest.

Cassandra smiled, thinking that her boys looked so good right that very moment.

Her boys? Cassandra shook that thought away. That was not right.

She gently took Willie’s sleeping form and laid him in his makeshift basinet beside Philip.

No, there might no longer be a time for her to visit Willie in the near future. Six months may be long, but it was also too short.

---

The next morning, Cassandra dragged her feet to do her chores that morning while Philip watched over Willie in his office while having a conference call. By lunch time, they prepared sandwiches and packed Willie’s things to go to the park. And though she thought Philip’s home was secluded, he actually lived in a somewhat rich community only that the houses were very much apart from each other. And like every community, it had a park.

When they got there, there were kids with nannies playing and running around the grass-covered ground. Philip—as always—looked fresh in a black and white striped shirt and khaki shorts and sandals. Cassandra dressed Willie in a light-blue shirt and white shorts and socks since he still had no shoes while she chose white pedal pants and a blue sleeveless blouse to match him. She actually thought they looked like a family of three just having a normal day at the park.

They spread their picnic cloth under a big tree and Philip watched over Willie as the child came stumbling on his feet, following older toddlers passing by as Cassandra prepared some food. And when he got tired, Willie contented himself sitting munching a biscuit across Cassandra and Philip were eating melted ice cream she bought from home. She took a large spoonful of vanilla, her eyes resting on Willie.

The child was looking up at her, resting on one hand now when he suddenly squealed with laughter that almost threw him on his back. Cassandra frowned.

“What?” she asked laughingly at Willie. He stopped laughing, looked at her once more and his musical laughter rang out again. “What?” she asked a second time.

Philip was already smiling when he curiously peered at her to see what caused Willie’s amusement and when he got a good look, he let out a low chuckle, his shoulders shaking with it.

Suddenly annoyed but amused at the same time, Cassandra glared at him beside her and demanded, “What?” She felt like the two of them knew something she didn’t know—which was true—and she felt really stupid. “Philip!”

“What?” he asked when his laughter started to die, but when his eyes focused on her face yet again, he started chuckling some more and worse, Willie joined him, his chubby face with biscuit crumbs was flushing with glee.

When Philip saw her narrowed eyes, he held up a hand and said, “You got some vanilla mustache, babe.”

“What?” she didn’t hear his answer actually because she was too mesmerized as she looked at his happy face—a genuine Philip happy face.

“There,” he pointed with his spoon and it landed where he intended it to be—on her nose.

Cassandra gasped. She couldn’t believe he’d actually do it and she was frozen for a second. Willie laughed harder when he saw her face.

“That was a very bad move, babe,” she said through clenched teeth and lunged forward, a spoonful of ice cream.

Philip was too busy laughing to dock away in time and half of his right cheek was suddenly covered by the white sticky cream.

“Don’t think I’ll let that pass,” he knelt on his knees and with one hand, caught her arm before she could scoot away and slowly but surely lathered ice cream from his spoon on her left cheek as she vigorously shook her head. The laughing Willie was forgotten for a few seconds as they fell on the ground wrestling with each other with their laughter muffled by trying to close their mouths to prevent having each other’s spoons stuck in them.

Philip was lying on top of her, keeping her imprisoned. Cassandra tried to wriggle away, slapping his shoulder. “Philip! Get off me, you crazy bastard!” she cried out with a laugh.

Her husband leaned his head closer to whisper in her ear, “Shh…don’t say bad words, babe,” he said with laughter in his deep, masculine voice.

And then they stopped.

Their laughter ebbed away as their eyes met.

It was the first time Cassandra saw Philip’s eyes glimmer with laughter and she was sure she was actually happy for the first time in years as well. The small smile on her lips was still there when his came down. She closed her eyes as his lips landed on her cheek that was covered by the melted ice cream. Cassandra moved her head so their lips meet and when they did, she felt that same surge of electrifying energy once again and everything around her dissolved in just a mere little particle—unnoticed, unimportant. Her hand instinctively let go of the useless spoon and traveled over her husband’s broad shoulder that was shaking with laughter just seconds ago.

Philip groaned as she responded with the same urgency as his kiss, his hands wound around her to lift her closer to him. All her senses seemed to have focused only to that moment of being in his arms and tasting his urgent, hungry kiss.

“Gah!” Willie’s voice was like a whistle in the wind at first, but her experience yesterday taught her that she couldn’t forget everything no matter how she didn’t want to stop. Cassandra moaned and drew all her strength to push Philip away gently and when he did move away—probably thinking the same way as she—they both cleared their throats at the same time and faced Willie who had long stopped laughing and was fixing them a curious look.

“Hey,” Cassandra forced a big smile on her face and crawled toward the child. “Would you like to go for a walk?” Of course she did not wait for an answer because she was eager to get away from Philip. The obvious strong sexual tension was lurking naughtily around them and it was a sure sign of impending problem for later. She and Philip would be alone at home and she’d love to go home with Willie wherever he’d go later with his babysitter. She couldn’t trust herself to behave accordingly if something like what happened a few seconds ago happened again!

---

Cassandra made sure that they spent the rest of the afternoon focused on Willie alone and they did just that.

They were actually getting good at forgetting something that happened despite the knowledge that they had real issues to talk about. After all, they were husband and wife and a man and a woman strongly attracted to each other. But there was that stupid contract, his secret with her father, and both their pride to block every possibilities.

And there was that undying issue of Dennis bothering her conscience every time. And there was Angelica who seemed to be determined to get her out of the picture. Well, Harrison was another matter entirely. She considered him a close friend and nothing else.

Chanty called them up hours later to tell them that Willie’s babysitter was already on her way to get him, so they packed and drove back home with a gloomy mood. Willie was oblivious of everything because he was focused more on his new shoes that Philip bought for him at the store across the park. The only thing that brought a smile on Cassandra’s face was that the babysitter would surely have trouble until Chanty returned from her trip.

Cassandra let Philip handle the matter of handing Willie to the babysitter after giving him a strong hug and a kiss. She couldn’t handle goodbyes pretty well, so she locked herself in her room and watched Willie and his babysitter drive away. She sighed and stepped back when they were out of sight and decided to take a bath. When she was done, she thought of doing some work so she grabbed a sketch pad and went down, out to the lawn at the back of the house near the woods. Philip was out of sight so she thought he was probably back in his office.

She sat crossed legged on a lawn chair and stared at the blank page of her sketch pad. Like a writer’s block, she didn’t know what to do or how to start. She decided to let her hand do the work and started sketching the deepest secrets of her mind. Minutes ticked by, then hours and she did not hear Philip approach from behind her until she heard his voice.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Her back straightened in alarm and instinctively hugged her sketch pad closer to her chest. She would rather die than tell him what she was doing.

“Nothing,” she snapped, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder. Her heart was already hammering, afraid that he saw what she was drawing because he was standing so close behind her.

His lips twitched to one side as he peered down at her flushed face. “What were you drawing?” he casually asked but his face was full of curiosity and knowing.

“Nothing,” she jumped to her feet when his hand reached for her sketch pad. Cassandra stepped back, her one hand grabbing the top sheet of paper and started crumbling it in a fist. She didn’t care if it was all ruined. It was never meant to be seen by anyone after all.

He circled around the chair and walked toward her and she retreated further away.

“It’s nothing, really. Why do you want to see it, anyway?” Her hand was already behind her back, the paper already balled up.

“What’s that behind your back?” Philip’s face was already full of amusement at her anxious state.

He’s enjoying this , she thought. And he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted.

She ran back to the direction of the house, but he was faster. He caught her in no time and she shrieked.

“Philip! It’s nothing! Really! Let me go!”

“Not until you let me see what it is!” he said with amusement and warning, reaching for her balled hand.

“No!” she held it out of his reach and threw it to the only place she thought was safe—in her mouth. “Hmmm!” she tried to shout ‘no’ as she struggled and fought against his strength.

He just scoffed in disbelief. “I can’t believe you actually like to eat paper, babe.”

“Hmmm!” her eyes bulged as his fingers tried to open her mouth. “Hmmm!” she shook her head away and fought him with her hand. And when she was desperate enough, she kicked him on his shin and rushed out of his strong embrace when his grip loosened.

“Cassandra!” he yelled at her when she ran back inside and up to her room and into the toilet.

“Crazy bastard!” she shouted over her shoulder after spitting the paper out, flushing it in the toilet.

“Hey!” his laughing voice said outside her door as he knocked.

“What?!”

He was laughing so hard she couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“Leave me alone, Philip!” she yelled and went to her bed. What’s with him and this playfulness? He’s definitely crazy , was all she could think of.

She was proud of her quick waste management technique earlier. She would have died in shame if he saw that she drew a picture of his naked body. That would just be… She couldn’t find the words and she left it at that.

All she knew was that she would have locked herself in her room for the rest of six months until her hair grew long enough to climb out if he ever saw that drawing. She would rather die a thousand deaths!

Philip continued knocking.

“What?!” she shouted.

“Your mom’s on the phone,” he said louder. She doubted that for a second because it was possible he was using her mother to get her to open the door.

“Yeah, right.”

“No, I’m serious. She’s really on the phone.”

“Fine!” she jumped out of bed, went back to check if she flushed the toiled thoroughly and opened the door. He was really holding the phone in his hand and he handed it out to her with an amused smile.

Cassandra frowned. He was really different today—it was like Willie’s childishness magically possessed him.

Or maybe it was the side of him I never got to see before…

“Hello,” she said at the phone as that thought ran through her mind. He did not leave, but stood there looking at her.

“Hey, dear, how are you? Is Willie okay?” her mother’s voice asked.

“He’s not here any longer, mom,” she said dryly. “His babysitter fetched him this afternoon. What’s up? Why did you call?”

She heard her mother gasp. “Don’t tell me you forgot! It’s your father’s birthday this weekend!”

“Of course I didn’t forget,” she lied. No birthday crossed her mind lately.

“Anyway, don’t forget to come Saturday evening, okay? And tell Philip not to worry about the guests. I already invited that friend of his, Henry Bell. And Hope and Mary and William will also be present. I also invited Harrison and he said he’ll not miss my parties for the world! He’s such a sweet young man, isn’t he? Your father’s associates will be there as well so dress up, darling. Okay, good bye, I love you!” Her mother is always like that. She would talk on and on and then, before anyone realized it, the conversation was over.

“Okay,” she sighed when the line went dead. She didn’t like parties and now she was forced to attend one. Awesome. And she would be facing her father again.

“What did she say?” Philip asked.

“It’s about dad’s birthday party…”

“You’re not enthusiastic about it?”

“Not really. I don’t like parties,” she looked at him. “And I don’t like my dad at the moment.”

“Yeah, I figured that out already. Anywhere with alcohol is not good for you,” he leered.

She frowned. “What’s with you today? You seem different.”

He frowned. “Different?”

She nodded. “Yeah, you seem…playful and happy.”

He shrugged. “I’m happy.”

“Why?”

He did not answer but just smiled down at her. “That’s for me to find out as well, I guess,” he grinned and stepped back to walk to his room. “Go get dinner ready, babe. I’m starving.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes and started to walk to the direction of the stairs when she stopped and rushed back inside her room to check her toilet for the last time. Better to be sure she flushed all pieces of evidence. Contented, she hopped her way down to the kitchen to cook some eggs and hams.

Chapter 21

Philip silently cursed himself inside his study.

Was his wife right? He was acting different?

Shaking his head in denial, he checked his email and found an encrypted message from Henry. He frowned. His friend rarely sent encrypted messages.

This could only mean serious business.

He opened it and read.

Be careful at the party. They will be there. Can’t contact each other the usual way anymore. We have to be careful.

Act normal.

Philip rubbed his hands over his face. He was not used to these things. He never expected to be even in this mess.

But he was and he no one to blame but himself.

---

The next few days went back to normal which meant Philip was back to his old self. Cassandra even began to wonder if he was using this other personality as façade or he really had some kind of multiple or bipolar personality disorder.

By Friday, Philip found her at the back of the house while she was painting on canvas. She stopped and turned to face him. “I’m done cleaning the living room if that’s what you came here for.”

She was pissed with him today—not that it wasn’t always the case anyway—because he had been following her around, critiquing her chores. He had asked her to clean the living room three times already and just to make herself feel better she made herself believe he just forgot about the first two times he did.

He frowned and said, “We’re going shopping.”

“For what?’

“Food. And aren’t you going to get your dad a gift for tomorrow?”

Cassandra stood there thinking for a few seconds and finally shrugged. “Okay,” she started to pick up her things. “I’ll just go change.”

He stepped closer and took her brushes from her, “I’ll do this. Go hurry up.”

“Be careful with this, okay?” she tapped her canvas, looking at him sternly like her life depended on it.

“Just go change,” he stared at her dryly.

Without a word, she left him and went to her room. She grabbed an oversized black shirt and a pair of denim shorts and black ankle boots. No bags. Philip had to pay for everything, including her father’s gift.

With not a word of debate from him, she climbed behind him at the backside of the car and they drove toward the city. He was still dressed in his khaki pants and gray sweatshirt from earlier since she woke up. They went to get some groceries first.

“No, bring that back. I’m not buying that,” he said, looking like he was going to puke.

Cassandra looked down at the tray of eggs and frowned. “Why? We need eggs. It’s protein.”

“I don’t need eggs for the next three years.” He wheeled the cart away from her and added, “And don’t try to sneak another ham into this cart because that’s not ever going to happen.”

Cassandra fumed. How did he expect her to serve food for? Already planning on how she could sneak the eggs into the counter, she noticed that he stopped at a nearby rack with cooking books on display.

“What’s that?” she asked absently, pretending to look over his shoulder as she carefully placed the tray of eggs underneath the pack of tissue.

“It’s for you.” He pushed a large cooking book in front of her. “You really have to learn how to cook or I’ll die early.”

“That will not be such a problem for me,” she mumbled under her breath as she sighed, looking down at the heavy book with a photo of a very mouthwatering meat dish she didn’t recognize. He rummaged down at the cart and much to her disappointment, saw the tray of eggs. He looked at her accusingly and she feigned innocence by saying, “Oh, yeah, someone must have misplaced that there a few minutes ago. Really babe, you should watch our cart. Kids love to play tricks on shoppers nowadays.”

“Yeah, right. Kids…” he shook his head as he placed the eggs on a rack beside some pasta. “Or some wives who don’t know how to cook.”

I should have brought my own money, she whispered in her mind. “Do you really expect me to cook stuff like this? These are for aspiring cooks!” Cassandra lifted the book to her chest.

“It’s for beginners,” he pointed at the book and she looked down.

“It doesn’t look like it’s for beginners. It’s freaking complicated by the look of it!”

“It’s simple,” he said absently as he frowned down at a can of sauce. “Let’s get going. We still need to buy your dad a present.”

She bore a hole through his back and mentally pictured blood pouring out that hole.

---

After almost an hour of trying to find a gift for her dad, they finally decided on a pipe since her dad loved his collection of them. With her own money, she wouldn’t have bought it, but since Philip was paying, she didn’t complain on the price upon seeing it.

Their next destination took her by surprise though.

“What are we doing here?”

“We’re going to buy you a dress.”

“I already have a dress.”

He raised his brows back at her, “Really?”

“Yes.” She didn’t exactly lie. She could go home and open that box of hers again.

“But since we’re here, we better get you one.” He climbed out of the car. She did the same and followed him toward the store. “I liked that one you wore during the dinner with my family.”

“Oh, you mean the night Angelica kissed you?” the words came out before she could stop herself—and it sounded too bitter as hell. Damn!

Philip stopped in his tracks and faced her. “She was drunk. She didn’t know what she was doing,” he said defensively.

That same anger she felt every time she heard him talk about Angelica flared inside her once more. “If you like her that much, you should have married her instead of me. She would have said yes in an instant.”

“I don’t see Angelica as a wife. She’s like a sister to me.” His frown was deepening now.

“You don’t look at her like a brother does to a sister.” She tried to sound casual this time.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” she started walking but he stopped her by blocking her path. “What?” Now, that tone sounded like an angry, jealous wife.

“What do you mean?” he asked once again, his face seriously curious. She stared at him incredulously. How could he not know what she was talking about?

“Oh, nothing, really.” She prayed her nonchalant tone was not too late or suspicious. “It’s just the way you look at her.”

“And how do I look at her exactly?” His hands went to his hips in that sexy way of his.

“Like you’re ready to strip her of her clothes. Like at the mall?” she reminded him.

At first, his face was incredibly curious as he tried to understand what she was talking about, and then he chuckled in amusement and disbelief.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded, afraid that he was laughing at her because he thought she was jealous.

“You think I like Angelica? I was not looking at her because I like her in a carnal way if that’s what you mean,” he laughingly said.

“You weren’t?” Cassandra wanted to slap herself because her question sounded so stupid.

“No I weren’t,” he said it matter-of-factly and then his eyes looked at her tenderly and she was almost lost into their blue depths. “I was trying to compare how you two are different in many ways.”

It was her turn to frown. “And how different are we exactly?”

He grinned down at her and said, “She’s too womanly for my taste.”

“And?” she urged when he didn’t continue. Really, he had to try to answer in complete sentences.

“And what?”

“And me?”

“Well,” his lips twitched to one side, “you’re…you bring out the worst in me.”

Her mouth fell open. Should she find it a good thing at all?

“Now,” he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the shop, “stop talking about Angelica like she’s your worst enemy. She’s good if you get to know her. She just has issues.”

“I really doubt that,” she mumbled.

“Trust me, you’ll like her. While I think you two are not the same, there are also numerous similarities between the two of you. If you get to know her, you’ll like her. “

I said I really doubt it, moron, she shouted in her mind.

---

The lady who assisted her in trying out the dresses Philip picked out for her was smiling in amusement every time she got out of the dressing room with a different dress and he would wave his hand saying things like, “Could it be any shorter?” or something like, “Take it off this instant,” when she appeared with a purple dress that bared her back to the lowest part of her back.

Cassandra was ready to walk out of the store and walk home alone when she came out wearing a simple knee-length black sleeveless dress with a square neckline. He literally froze in the couch and Cassandra crossed her fingers.

“We’ll get that,” he said in an instant, addressing the lady standing beside her.

“Finally,” Cassandra sighed and went to change back to her clothes.

---

Saturday was Philip’s turn to do his chores again which she found as annoying as doing her own. She couldn’t stay inside the house without him following and cleaning after her. It was like having a robotic vacuum attached to your waist. She even thought he’d lie low because of the party later that night but she was wrong.

“What’s wrong with you? Can’t you stop to rest?” she snapped when he came out the back door with a rake.

“You decided to forget to do the lawn yesterday, remember?” he raised his eyebrows at her.

Cassandra rolled her eyes and continued on with her painting.

“When’s your exhibit?” he asked in a casual tone as he began with his work.

“How did you know about that?”

“Your mother.”

“It’s next month. That’s why I should be focused on my work instead of stupid household chores.”

“If you think that’s going to work, it’s not.”

She gave out an exaggerated sigh. “That’s what I thought…”

“You should use the time you’re doing your chores as an inspiration for one of your works.”

“I can’t possibly paint a rake, Philip. Or a vacuum cleaner.”

“But you can paint a rake with a lawn,” he pointed out.

Cassandra froze. Yeah, that could work. “Or you could pose for me!”

“Never.”

“Don’t worry, it’s a piece of cake. I should really paint you anyway.” She stared into the air and motioned with a hand and said, “And I’ll call it ‘Suffering’.”

“Suffering?”

“Yeah. Since you’re the main cause of my constant suffering and agony…” He must have found her statement funny because he let out a small chuckle. Cassandra just pouted her lips. She really expected him to stiffen and crack her head with the rake.

---

By six o’clock, she got ready in haste. Philip had been knocking on her door every five minutes since she came in. She wasn’t a bit giddy for many reasons.

Harrison would be there and her friend meeting her husband was something she never planned to happen. And Philip was not aware that someone else aside from her father knew of their real situation.

Taking one last glance of herself in the mirror, she sighed. She wore her hair in a messy bun. She paired the simple black dress with a pair of black pumps and a black clutch bag. She didn’t like jewelries but she had put on a pair of simple stud diamond earrings. She also applied light make-up on her face but made her eyes look strong with black and silver eye shadow.

She already saw the shadow underneath her door and she said, “I’m coming!”

The knock came anyway.

“You’ve been saying that for almost an hour,” Philip’s voice said from the other side.

“And you’ve been nagging that long,” she retorted as she swung the door open.

He did not answer because his eyes were already busy roaming over her in a way that made her blush like a stupid teenager.

“What?” she found her voice first. He looked marvelous in a black tuxedo and dark blue tie.

She heard him clear his voice as his eyes went back to look at her. “I have something for you,” he held out a large velvet box and she took it.

“What’s this?”

“Open it,” he said with a tone that sounded like a nervous child.

Slowly, she opened the box and a large star-crossed pendant traced with little diamonds greeted her, and attached to it was a silver chain. “It’s a star…”

“The only thing your father ever shared about your personal life is that you’ve always loved the stars since you were a child.”

“Of all the details, really?” She looked up from the box to stare at him.

He shrugged, “He did not really tell me that. He mentioned that in passing once.”

And he remembered it? “Why give me this? It’s not even my birthday or something.”

“I just thought of you when I saw it, that’s all.”

“I don’t really need—”

“Just…put it on,” he interjected gently.

Because she loved stars, she did not argue further. She didn’t know how he even got the necklace with his time spent mostly at home as far as she could remember.

“You should wear it tonight,” he urged.

“Okay…” she whispered and took the necklace in her hand. She expected him to offer hooking it around her neck but when he just stood there motionless, she thought he was not the type to do such mushy stuff.

She gave him the box and hooked the necklace herself.

“It suits you,” he observed.

“Thanks,” she felt the warm glow over her cheeks. “Okay, let’s go,” she uttered with a heavy sigh.

---

They arrived and the party was already going on. As she expected, her mother had done a fantastic job. The music was old but Cassandra loved it and it brought a feeling of nostalgia as she remembered her childhood waking up to the same set of music.

She led Philip through the crowd of people in the ballroom of the house she grew up in and out to the gardens where tables covered by white cloth glimmered with candle lights. She knew where to find her father and they spotted him talking with Harrison and her mother and she stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Philip asked beside her.

She did not have time to reply because at that same moment, Harrison spotted them over her father’s shoulder and his growing smile upon seeing her froze when his eyes landed on Philip.

“Who’s that?” Philip asked rather irritably, his face contorted.

Cassandra groaned inwardly. This is it, she sighed to herself. “Harrison.”

“Who?”

“Harrison.”

Philip’s frown deepened when his mind finally recognized the name. “The one who had been bothering you ever since our honeymoon?”

“He was not bothering me,” she snapped, pasting a fake smile on her face. “And he’s my friend so you have to be nice,” she added when her father turned, spotted them, and started walking to their direction with her mother and Harrison in tow.

“That will be hard to do with the way he’s looking at me,” her husband said stonily. “Does he know about us?”

She was almost afraid to answer that but she said, “Yes.”

“You told him?” his voice was etched with real anger now.

“Yes,” she whispered, her smile wavering by the second. “Don’t worry, he won’t talk. Come on, smile.” She gripped his arm tightly. He must be trying hard not to burst out so she did not urge on further when his lips pursed.

Her parents were already smiling as she dragged her husband to meet them, but she could see that Harrison had the same expression on his face as Philip while he kept his distance behind her parents.

“Happy birthday, dad,” she kissed her dad on the cheek and handed her present, “This is from me and Philip.”

“Happy birthday, Kurt,” Philip said, fixing a small smile on his lips as he shook her father’s hand. He then went to kiss her mother on the cheek and said a decent good evening.

“I’m so happy you two came,” her father said, looking at her specifically. He really thought she wouldn’t come? She was not angry anymore, but she still wanted the truth. Him trusting her was a great deal.

“Oh, darling,” her mother spoke up with her jolly voice, “why don’t you introduce Harrison to your husband?”

With a scared look, she stared at her husband and cleared her throat. The two guys were already staring at one another like old high school enemies. “Harry, this is Philip—my husband. Philip, this is Harrison.”

Harrison took a step toward Philip and her husband did the same. The handshake they shared looked like a game of tug-of-war to Cassandra, but it ended shortly. Should she check bruising on Philip’s hand later?

“Harrison here is a very good friend of the family,” her mother informed Philip. “He has been there with Cassy when she needed someone the most.”

---

He saw the look of warning Cassandra gave her mother.

Philip’s smile was dry as he said, “That’s good to know someone cared for Cass.”

“It was a hard time for her and she needed me,” Harrison replied in the same manner.

“I’m hungry, why don’t we eat?” she said to Philip and tugged at his arm.

“Philip, I need to talk to you privately,” Kurt Anders said.

Philip just nodded, eyes still on his wife. Cassandra looked at Harrison and smiled. He saw Harrison return his wife’s smile with a shrug. “Let’s go,” Cassandra whispered when he refused to move.

---

They were getting food inside when William and Hope approached them. Cassandra wanted to shout in frustration. She had enough for one day and having his family around didn’t help.

“Philip, I want to talk to you,” William said after a long hi and hello moment and they walked to the far corner of the room. Hope left her to look for Mary who was probably with her mother and she sighed in relief.

A few moments later, she saw her father walk up to Philip and took her husband away from William and they disappeared into the study. She craned her neck and saw three gentlemen she didn’t recognize followed Philip and her father into the study.

When she turned her head she saw Henry Bell standing in one corner alone, eyeing her father’s closed study. Although he did not appear suspicious, the fact that he was watching the very same room Cassandra’s father and husband disappeared into was enough to make her question Henry Bell’s real presence in this party.

Cassandra was not sure how long she stood there watching Henry Bell watching her father’s closed study door.

When she started move to confront the man, someone blocked her path and she looked up and saw Harrison.

“Hi,” she beamed at him. “Wanna eat?”

“I’m done,” he said without a smile. It was not like him at all and she knew why he was acting that way. “Why did you bring him here?”

“Are you crazy? He’s my husband, Harry.”

“Husband in paper,” he reminded her.

“And my parents invited him. You can’t possibly expect me not to bring him with me. And plus, I need a driver. Remember, I can’t drive.”

His lips broke into a smile with her quip. “How are things? Does he make you suffer?”

Every day, she wanted to answer but she knew it was just her own thinking. “Of course not. He’s nothing like that. And why do you think he will do such a thing?”

His friend shrugged, “I don’t know—”

“Excuse me,” her husband’s cold voice said behind them and they both turned. Philip was already sizing up Harrison and her friend did the same. How did he get here that fast? She looked over her husband’s shoulder and spotted her father briskly walking outdoors with the same men who joined them earlier. What did they talk about in such a short span of time? What the hell is going on!

“So, you’re the husband?” Harrison spoke with meaning.

“You’re the friend ,” Philip said, more trying to point out where his opponent really stood when it came to her.

Harrison understood it because he nodded and said, “I’m a real friend, and as far as I know, you’re the semi-real husband.”

Philip smiled icily at him and Cassandra shook her head, rearranging her thoughts. She didn’t know what to do after that short chat with Henry Bell, but she was certain she must address the current problem at hand. “If that’s how you see it…”

“Okay, stop it, you two.” Cassandra urged her voice not to quiver. “Philip, let’s go.”

She took her husband’s hand. “Harry, please,” she begged before she dragged Philip away.

They were a good few meters away when she stopped and whirled to face him. “You shouldn’t start fighting with my friends. I told you before I don’t want you meddling with my friends and—”

“He started it,” he interjected irritably. Music started playing and some people began to dance on the dance floor.

“Then stay away,” she snapped at him.

He must have taken it literally because he suddenly turned around and walked out to the garden. Cassandra stood there gaping. Bastard, wait until I get to you… She was craning her neck to look for Harrison and sighed in relief when she spotted him with a guest from the other side of the room. She better get to Philip before he could meet Harrison without her. No one could be sure what would happen if that happened.

She turned around and bumped into the same man she had meant to confront earlier. She screamed in her head.

“Hi,” he said in that deep tone of his.

Something in him had always alarmed Cassandra in an unexplainable way. Maybe it was not safe to confront him? “Hello,” she greeted and added, “Have you seen Philip?”

“Why? Isn’t he with you?”

“Well, he was, but now I can’t find him.”

“I think I saw him with your father.”

Again?

“ He’ll get back,“ Henry said and without notice, took her by the elbow and leaned closer. “For now, why don’t we dance?”

“What? No, I don’t really think—”

“Come on, just one dance…”

Cassandra sighed. “Okay, just one dance,” she let him lead her to the dance floor, her eyes busily roaming around the room for her stupid husband.

They danced to some old music she was familiar with and she tried her best to maintain a good distance between them.

“Are you afraid?”

“Of what?”

“Me,” Henry smiled down at her wickedly.

“Of course not,” she said incredulously. Are you trying to keep me away from Philip? Why?

“How’s married life with my friend?”

Why does everyone ask the same freaking question! “It’s going great,” she smiled.

“Are you sure?”

Cassandra frowned. What’s wrong with this man? “Yes, I’m pretty sure.”

They danced in silence for what seemed like forever. Cassandra feared that Henry would do more to distract her from finding her husband.

But then maybe he was doing something more. Maybe he was one of the bad guys! Maybe he was here to do harm!

Does he know what’s going on?

If her father and Philip refused to tell her the truth, then maybe Bell can.

“Okay, let’s cut to the chase. What is my father and Philip into?”

She saw the surprise in his face before he covered it with a laugh. “What makes you think—”

Cassandra fixed him a stern smile. “Don’t take me for a fool, Henry. Tell me now.”

Henry scoffed and looked around them. “Look, Cassandra,” he said under his breath, his voice serious. “You should stop these questions.”

Her hold tightened over his shoulder and Henry finally looked down to meet her stare. It unnerved her, the way he gazed down at her. She was no longer looking at Philip’s friend and lawyer. Gone was the taunting, playful act. She was looking at someone completely different.

“I’ll only say this once, Cassandra,” he said with warning. “You would not want to cause them danger. You don’t have to do anything.”

“Is this something to do with—”

“God, you’re too curious,” he said with a laugh as he shook his head. He seriously looked at her again. “If you want to know the truth, then help me keep your father and husband alive by not doing anything. Trust me on this.”

“Hey,” that same voice she knew very well said behind them. “Why do I always have to find my wife dancing with you?”

Henry chuckled and stopped dancing, the seriousness on his face completely gone.

Cassandra had to force her muddled mind to rearrange itself before she went crazy. “You’re just in time for the next dance,” she said to her husband and gladly stepped away from Henry’s arms to grab Philip’s hand.

“What dance?”

“This one,” she smiled widely, seeing in her peripheral vision that Henry was looking at them intently.

Though he was a little taken aback, Philip grabbed her waist in one hand and they danced with the music anyway. The air outside must be really strong because he was in such a nice mood as they glided with the music.

“I am not very comfortable with Henry. He’s acting suspicious.”

“He’s my friend and I trust him the most.”

“Friends can be worse than your enemies.”

“Henry’s different. Trust me. He’s just a bit off in some aspects but he’s really okay.” She didn’t want to say anything more in fear that it would lead to more banter so she kept quiet.

And she hadn’t quite figured out what Henry Bell truly was. Was he the good guy here? The bad guy?

“You look really good today.” Philip smiled at her and that was when Cassandra knew why his foul mood was gone. She could smell a bit of wine from his mouth which was hovering just above hers in a teasing manner.

“I think you already told me that,” she said in a whisper, her eyes looking at his eyes.

“I’d say it over and over again though.” His smile broadened and he suddenly pulled her closer to him until no space barred them from each other. Cassandra’s chest was heaving as his hand traveled down to her lower back and he nuzzled her neck with his lips and nose.

Cassandra closed her eyes and willed her mind to forget about everything and every damned person in that party because at the moment, the two of them were in sync with the music and that moment of closeness.

The voice that kept reminding her to ask what Philip and her father had been up to earlier was getting weaker by the second. Maybe she’d ask some other time. She didn’t have to complicate the night further.

When the music died, Philip did not let go of her but stared deep into her eyes. His blue globes were serious when he said, “I want to know about everything that happened to you years ago.”

Cassandra was still in a blur and the question was just out of nowhere that for a moment she felt she was at the climax of a very good movie when someone suddenly pushed the pause button. It took her a few seconds to recover and when she did, she nodded her head.

There was no use not telling him. It would make him understand her reactions to almost everything he and her father did to her.

Yes, tonight she would tell him about Dennis. She’d tell the truth even when everyone else around her seemed to hesitate doing so, especially Philip and her father.

Chapter 22

They remembered everything and they were still conscious and coherent but nobody would let them go home alone. After that first dance, they danced another one and joined their families. At first, Philip tried to stop her from taking a glass of wine but she promised she wouldn’t drink more than two so he said yes. Cassandra remembered promising Mary to help Chanty with baby Willie’s so-called WALKING PARTY and she also recalled Henry telling them he’d take them home in his car and that Philip could go back for his car the next day. Philip refused the offer but his friend insisted among others.

Henry Bell drove them home because they were both tipsy by the time the party was over despite Cassandra’s incessant denial of having Henry Bell within a five-meter radius.

When they were finally home alone, they decided to have one last glass of wine. Philip looked at her as he handed her the wine and said, “You promised to tell me about your incredibly mysterious past.”

She smiled and answered, “I know.”

“Let’s go to the balcony,” and he then led her upstairs. She didn’t know which balcony he was talking about but followed him anyway. She stopped in her tracks when he opened his bedroom door. His room was the other part of the house that she had never invaded.

“We’re going inside your room,” she stated without a question.

He frowned, “Why?” and when he saw her expression, he smiled naughtily and added, “We’re not going to do what you have in mind…”

“I don’t have anything in mind, you pervert. Just…okay, let’s go have that talk and get this over with.” She walked past him and entered his room and swept it with a glance. As expected, it was all manly and neat and dull. The sheets were dark gray—all of it, the furniture all black, and the walls plain and white. A man of his wealth should get a better interior designer, really.

Cassandra heard his chuckle as she strode inside and half-ran towards the glass door across the room that led to the balcony. “You said that out loud,” he explained and she groaned. “You seem tense,” he pointed out as he joined her outside.

“Shut up,” she snapped, resting her elbows at the wood railing of the balcony, looked over and pointed, “Your view here is not great.”

“I like it.”

Really, it was not that great. It overlooked the street—no great view there. “What’s to like watching the street and passing cars?”

“Cass,” his gentle voice said behind her. Cassandra looked over her shoulder and saw that he was fixing her with a knowing look as he stood there leaning against the glass sliding door holding his wine glass. He knew she was stalling.

Whether she liked it or not, she thought she should tell him. She didn’t want him to appear stupid in front of other people not knowing about Dennis or her past. And it might make him tell her something about the secret he was keeping with her father, the real reason why she was here in the first place.

Give and take, right? She’d tell him her secret and he’d tell her his.

She let out a breath, thinking where to start, and a long silence reigned between them for a long time. Funny how they get along with silence, she thought in passing.

Finally, she opened her mouth and said, “Two years ago, I was ready to walk down the aisle to get married.”

He looked at her with a blank expression on his face and uttered, “Dennis?”

“How—” she stopped herself when she remembered he overheard Dennis’ name during her phone conversation with Harrison on their honeymoon. “Yes,” she answered. “He’s Harrison’s best friend.” She took her glass to her lips and gulped down some wine. This was harder than she thought. She turned around to face Philip, leaned her back against the balcony and took a deep breath. “Dennis…” she played with her glass and watched the dark liquid move in a circle, “Dennis called off the wedding a day before we could say I do.”

“And that’s why you couldn’t get over him?”

Cassandra shook her head. “It’s not that. It was the accident that followed.”

His eyebrows crossed. “Accident?”

“When Dennis told me we should call off the wedding, I was driving and he was in the passenger seat.”

She heard his light intake of breath and he uttered, “Thus your phobia riding shotgun.”

A faint smile formed on her lips. “I always feel like I am back on that day of the accident every time I’m near the steering wheel.”

“What happened to him?”

“He did not get lucky as I did. I was shocked by his announcement and lost control of the wheel for a few seconds and before I knew it, another car was running fast toward us and it hit his side. He got the impact of the collision and now…” She stopped and swallowed, trying to control her emotions. Cassandra wasn’t used to showing any weakness toward anyone. “And now Dennis is still in the hospital and in a coma.” She broke the short silence with a snort. “I just find it stupid that he’d choose to tell me about that while I was driving. Can you believe that? I was driving and he thought it was the best time to drop the bomb. He could have chosen a much better time, right? I deserved to be seated with a good meal before he proposed to cancel the wedding.” Shaking her head, Cassandra added, “But then Dennis always blurted out news out of thin air. He proposed while we were watching a movie, you know. Everything in his life he planned but I just guess when it came to me he was just too fucking random.”

Her words must have stayed in the air after leaving her mouth because it took him time to react and when he did, it was not the reaction she expected. “You got to be freaking kidding me,” he blurted out.

“Of course I’m not, you dimwit,” she said dryly.

“Then he’s still alive?”

“Of course! What did you think?” Anger was starting to rise up in her now.

“I’m sorry. I just thought—I’m really sorry.”

Cassandra took a deep breath. He was lucky she had a good amount of alcohol running through her veins right now. “It’s fine.”

“Do you still see him?”

“No, not for a year now. Harrison gives me updates and all, but I stopped seeing him more than a year ago. It’s kind of complicated.”

He was silent for a long time and Cassandra anxiously waited for his next words.

“Do you still love him?”

His question took her by surprise and she snapped her eyes to meet his and what she saw made her wonder. His face was unreadable, but his eyes were glittering with…hope? Hope for what?

She chose to ignore that one for the moment and decided to answer his question truthfully. “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “All I know is that it was my entire fault.”

He shook his head. “No it was not. You never wished for any of it to happen. As you’ve said, it was stupid of him to drop such big news while you were driving.”

“That’s the problem. I was the one driving.”

“And you were taken by surprise. You never knew what would have happened. It would have been the same if he was behind the wheel, Cassandra. You can never know.”

She was tired of bantering over that matter. Harrison and her parents had told her the very same things two years ago. “I don’t know…”

“Is that why you haven’t had anyone after the accident?”

“No, I…I don’t believe I still love him—but I’ll never know that for certain unless I get to see and talk to Dennis.”

“Let me get this straight,” he held up one hand. “You never committed with anyone because you are not certain if you’re still in love with the man who broke up with you the day before your wedding?”

Coming from him, it sounded stupid but what he said was the exact truth. Dennis falling into a coma left her hanging. She never had the chance to know his reasons for calling off the wedding.

He could have had a petty reason like a very important meeting or a bad stomach. There might have been problems with reservations. She never shared these thoughts with anyone because it was stupid, but she also believed that anything was possible.

She never had the chance to know if she should wait or not. All in all, she had been floating in the air like she was inside a thin bubble that was about to pop and she didn’t know where she would fall.

And at this moment in her life, the bubble had long popped and she was still falling without knowledge of where her frail self would land.

Right now, she was falling… just falling.

Her eyes searched Philip’s and their gazes locked once more.

For the first time, she wondered why they bothered to argue every time they got the chance when in fact they really got along just fine. They were both comfortable to be in one space with the silence, both of them knowing what the other was thinking.

For the short time she had been with him, she knew him well enough. Maybe he was right. She brought out the worst in him. And knowing someone in their worst could make you appreciate them in their best. And that was the case with Philip. She knew him as the husband who was arrogant and moody, and she also knew him as the man who was caring with kids and tender when it came to real display of emotions.

Just like now when she finally laid out her past in front of him, making herself vulnerable, and he was staring at her in that tender and caring way of his that she only got to see once in a blue moon.

“Now you know the real story,” she whispered, her eyes not leaving his.

He nodded slowly and pulled away from the door to walk toward her. Cassandra’s heart began to hammer once more.

There was so much in him that reminded her of Dennis, but there were also things that made her think otherwise.

Being with Philip was different. She never lost track of time nor the surroundings when she was with Dennis. She never had a single fight with him like she had with the man standing before her. Her actions were not as carefree when she was with Dennis—she was always Ms. Prim and Proper because it was what was expected of her.

With Philip, she was herself and despite his controlling streak, he let her and she honestly didn’t know if it was a good thing. Their relationship was new and different for her. Acting without deeply analyzing things had always been natural with him, but it seemed that it had not brought him or this relationship any good.

As a matter of fact, she caused him enough trouble to kick her out of his house. But on the other hand, she didn’t have anything to be sorry about because it was all his and her father’s fault.

Cassandra mentally shook her head. Her crazy mind went berserk once again, causing yet another indecipherable train of thoughts to keep her awake the whole night. Recently, she found it difficult to fall into a deep slumber and she knew it was because of the thought that just within a few paces away, her husband lay sleeping in his own room.

Again, she shook her head to erase another uncomfortable image. She forced herself to think about the fact that theirs was a marriage of convenience—well, on her father’s part anyway. Philip was holding a secret from her and she intended to find out about it. She must focus on those things—those things that will have great impact on her and those she held dear.

But her thoughts committed suicide down the balcony the moment Philip’s hand rested on her arm, his eyes searching hers. “Now I know…” he whispered, his breath brushing against her face—that was how close he was.

Cassandra didn’t have any words to say to that because the little particles of alcohol had already calmed her senses and released her precautions from their bounds where they jumped down the balcony along with her thoughts. R.I.P, superego , she thought.

Like every time they were that close, everything else was forgotten. His hand seemed to have a mind of its own as it took her glass from her and placed it on the balcony together with his, and as he did that, his nose nuzzled her own, their lips just centimeters away. The teasing game went on like forever before they both impatiently pulled one another in a gripping embrace, fire burning their lips as they let their senses take the lead.

Yes, in a way Philip was very much like Dennis. He was a control freak, a hard worker. But in many ways, he was different as well.

Because he made her feel different.

He could make her feel things she never felt with anyone else. If it were a year ago, she would have pulled away. But this time there was no one—even a barking dog—or anything to make them stop.

And whether or not she believed it, she was completely healed now and she was willing to dive into the depth of whatever this thing she had with her husband was.

She was willing to face the consequences, willing herself to finally be free from all the guilt she felt—free from the prison she created to punish herself. This time—this moment—was hers. No more thoughts of Dennis, no questions about her father’s secrets, no more thoughts of what she would do to herself after she woke up from this dreamland that was called Philip.

Right now, she would be true.

With that final notice, she wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck and pressed closer, molding her body to his. His one arm went around her to press her even closer as his other hand found her nape, untangling her bun with his fingers. His lips tasted like wine, his breath warm and urgent against her face.

She didn’t care how they managed to blindly walk back inside where the warmth of his room ignited the growing fire between them. She couldn’t even care how he managed to zip her down her dress, exposing her back, and ran his long strong fingers against her bare skin. She couldn’t remember as well how her fingers worked with his tie and shirt. And she was pretty sure both of them couldn’t tell how their feet brought them toward the bed where they fell and reunited with an unstoppable fiery passion. It was a good thing though that there was no more baby Willie to witness the flying of their clothes across the room because that would be very horrible.

But what Cassandra was feeling right now was far from horrible. She was feeling every pleasant feeling Philip’s hand, lips and body were causing to her own.

Cassandra never cared that everything happened so fast, nor did she care that she never planned for any of it to happen.

But it did happen.

It was bound to.

And it felt so right.

His lips running kisses down her throat was like heaven, the feel of his naked amazing body against hers was the best thing she ever felt, his skilled hands gripping hers as they finally joined together was as good as any of her paintbrushes.

He cupped her face in his hands as they danced to their own music, his blue eyes full of emotions that were new to her, and at that moment, being intimately close to him, she felt like crying. She didn’t know why but the tear trickled down her cheek and he kissed it away in the gentlest way.

“Don’t cry, babe…” he whispered close to her ear before claiming her mouth once more.

Cassandra willed her tears to make the U-turn. Crying at that exact moment was the least thing to do, so she wrapped her arms around him and enjoyed the feel of him intimately united to her. Stupid as it was but she really thought that she was too proud to have waited that long to have a taste of this.

The night went on unknowingly for both of them as they surrendered to the desire that had been lingering around them for quite too long now.

Finally, they were wise to know that it was just a matter of time. Everything else would have to wait.

---

The moment Cassandra opened her eyes, she smiled. Though it did not yet come to her what happened last night, she knew she was feeling contented and happy.

Then she froze when she felt Philip’s heavy arm over her waist and she looked down. “Oh my God…” she gaped, realizing what she had done.

She made love to her husband.

Oh God. Made love to my husband. Not such a big thing, right?

But oh my God, we did it.

She checked under the covers again to see if she was not just hallucinating and to her horror, she thought right—and remembered right. She clamped her hand over her mouth and she closed her eyes with a groan.

She almost yelped as Philip’s hand traveled down her spine to her lower back and she instinctively leaned away from his chest mouthing ’ Oh my God!’ in the process. Her head slowly looked up and she opened her eyes to find his blue ones smiling down at her with a lazy, sleepy look.

“Hi,” he murmured.

“What did you do?”

“What do you mean what did I do?” he asked absently as his eyes closed once more and his arm pulled her closer to him. She could feel every inch of him now.

“What did we do?”

“Do you really have to ask such a stupid question?” he groaned sleepily.

“Philip,” she poked his arm with one finger.

“What?”

“What happened?”

“Really, Cass, you should stop and think for a second. Don’t ask questions that are obviously answered by just one look.”

Cassandra moaned. She was hoping he would say nothing really happened and she just had a bad dream—a really erotic, hot bad dream—that they were both too drunk and just drowsed off before doing the act.

Her mind was reeling with so much thought now.

How would she continue this thing with Philip? The boundaries she had set up were now gone in just a short span of time. They had finally consummated their marriage and it would have been great if it was actually a real marriage thing but it was not—it was a result of some deal her father had with him.

Now what happens? She couldn’t just pack and leave, right? What? What happens now?

She badly wanted to ask him that same question but part of her was afraid of what his answer would be.

The fear she felt made her stop for a moment.

She was afraid he’d say what they had was just nothing—that it was just a one-time thing he would have done with anyone, that nothing changed. Yes, she was afraid he’d say it meant nothing.

Oh God, this is really bad…

Okay, Cassandra, get a hold of your self. Think… What do you do now? She asked herself.

Act like nothing happened. Don’t talk about it. Everything will just fall to their places when the time comes. You just go on…it was just sex and you enjoyed it as much as he did. Don’t let what happened keep you from anything. In the end, it will all be all right.

Yes, that’s it. That’s right. Keep calm and ride with the flow. You’re good at it. Just guard your feelings, moron.

Yup, guard it good.

Finally done debating with herself, Cassandra took a deep breath and sighed.

Surrender. Yes, she just had to accept that the sexual part of their relationship had been a long time coming. Both of them knew it would end up to this—they just chose to postpone it for nearly a month.

She leaned her forehead against Philip’s chest and closed her eyes. For now, she’d sleep some more and when she’d wake up everything would be back to normal. Philip’s arm tightened around her as his lips kissed her head and travelled down to her jaw. Her senses awakened once more but she did not pull away. Instead, she moved her head so their lips met for a kiss. She was tired of depriving herself of the pleasure his touches brought her.

Oh, yes, everything would be back to normal, alright.

Well, at least that was what she hoped.

---

It was like a mutual understanding for both of them. Neither spoke about what happened and what would happen. Their day went on normally.

Yes, normally.

There was more physical contact for both of them after last night and that morning like kissing and caressing from time to time when they were both in a good mood. Maybe they both thought that talking about what happened between them would break the spell of this…well, whatever it was called.

Maybe they would have to talk about it later, but not now.

Aside from that, they were really back to normal. That included their constant banters of who would do the laundry and the floor or wipe the furniture.

Cassandra chose the easiest task of cooking using her new cookbook which was actually easier than she thought because it had recipes like crispy fried chicken with pepper and some herbs that didn’t need too much chopping, a salad that only needed about five recipes that she could very well identify on her own, some bacon and cheese sandwich preparations, and other easy ones. She completely ignored the more meaty stuff like steaks and others that had something to do with ovens and marinades.

“What’s that?” Philip looked over her shoulder from behind her, his body warm from vacuuming the entire house.

“I don’t really have an idea what I’m doing. But don’t worry because it will be edible so get away.”

“I’m already starving and you’ve been here preparing lunch for almost two hours now and it’s now one o’clock.” His voice had an edge of irritation. Hunger was not helping his temperament today.

“I’m trying to learn how to cook as you said. You should give me some credit for trying instead of whining.”

“I understand what you’re trying to say but you’re trying to make a simple seasoned fried chicken for heaven’s sake. Even a five-year-old can do that in fifteen minutes.”

Cassandra dropped the flour-coated chicken on the counter, turned around, and glared at him. “Can five-year-olds stand you?”

Philip frowned down at her. “What do you mean?”

“Not everyone knows how to cook, okay? I’m one of them. So stop comparing me to some freaking five-year-old! And for your information, I don’t think five-year-olds can practically hold a knife and cook!”

“I was just trying to point out—”

“That I’m a failure in the kitchen?”

“No.” His face was getting frustrated by the second. “Okay, fine, just…What else do you need here?”

“I need you to step out of the kitchen now and let me do my work.”

“It’s not really…” he trailed off when he saw the look in her eyes. “Okay, fine,” and then he was out.

“Unbelievable,” Cassandra muttered under her breath and continued on with her task. “Freaking fried chickens…”

She was able to cook the chicken but it didn’t turn out like the photo. It was nowhere near the one on page 65.

“Photoshop,” she scoffed in disbelief, looking at her work.

By some reason, the flour that was supposed to be golden brown did not really stick to the chicken and were all floating on the oil-filled pan. In short, it seemed like she just fried plain chicken parts.

“So much for effort,” she grumbled as she went out the kitchen to serve her royal majesty.

When he got a look at her work, his eyes went to hers. “It’s not really what I can call a fried chicken, babe.”

“That cookbook you got me must have had some publishing problem when they printed it because I followed every freaking step and it still turned out this way. We should return it and ask for a refund. And it is still fried chicken because, as you can very well see, they fried chicken parts because I fried them in a freaking frying pan with freaking frying oil,” she declared as she sat down across the table from him.

He looked at her in disbelief and shook his head, his sour look turned amused. “You always have a reason for everything…” he said, reaching out for the plate of fried chicken.

Not everything… she answered silently in her mind. I don’t know the reason why I am here in the first place. I don’t know my father’s reasons for putting me here. I don’t know why I am learning to like this freaking life with you!

---

That afternoon, she spent it with her canvas like she always did when she was confused or had a lot of things to think about.

Cassandra knew that being confused was a sure sign to get alarmed.

I better sort this thing out…

That very same afternoon, she decided that she would have to visit Dennis soon. It would be difficult seeing him lying on that bed, but she knew that coming to see him might just give her an answer to the same question Philip had asked her last night: Does she still love him?

---

Did the divorce papers just in case.

Philip read Henry’s message the third time. By the fourth, he was still frowning at his computer screen.

He asked for this, didn’t he?

And your other work? He typed in response.

ALMOST done, was Henry’s fast reply.

Yes, fast.

Things were turning out quite faster than he thought after all.

Chapter 23

“I’m sleeping in my room tonight,” Cassandra blurted out later that night. She didn’t want him to think she was that easy after everything that happened between them—as great as it was.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Philip said, blowing out a breath. They were sitting side by side on a wooden lawn bench at the back of the house with a glass of wine, just chilling out and looking at the stars.

She didn’t comment. She stayed silent because she honestly didn’t know what to say.

At the corner of her eye, she felt him change his position to face her. “Do you think I’m thinking you’re easy?”

Shit, he’s good. “Who would sleep with someone she barely knows?” She was accusing herself when she said that.

“Cass,” his hand went to rest under her chin and urged her to face him. She did and she reluctantly met his eyes. They were talking about it tonight, great. She had hoped it would not be that soon. “That thought never crossed my mind.”

“But it did cross mine. I don’t know, I just thought it was too fast. And it shouldn’t have happened anyway. We are not really married like a real couple to do such a thing in the first place.”

“You’re saying you regret it?” His voice sounded pissed, hurt even, and when she finally took the courage to look into his eyes, she saw that he was looking at her with anxiety. It almost startled her to see him with that expression because it was not like him at all. Anxiety was not his area of expertise as she believed.

“No, I don’t regret it. I’m just saying… I don’t know,” she looked away and stared up at the stars. “It’s just freaking complicated.”

“We may not be married under normal circumstances but we’ve been together enough time to know each other. And that can be considered dating in my book. And having sex with someone you’re dating is not a bad thing, is it? It’s just complicated because you’re thinking it is.”

“Because it really is for me,” she insisted. She didn’t know about him, but she had a lot of things to lose if ever she accidentally fell for him. And she had enough of losing something—or someone.

Sharing his bed would make things difficult if she would not be careful. Yes, she could enjoy it, but as she said, it would have to take a lot of necessary precautions. Right that moment, she was thinking of doing it slow.

“Are you afraid?”

What a stupid, incomplete question, she thought. “Afraid of what?”

“That you might not want to get out when the time comes?”

“Of course not,” she lied. That was exactly what she had in mind.

“Then why can’t we do what other married people should be doing? I mean, you know–and I know–that we are strongly sexually attracted to each other. Why not enjoy the moment while it lasts? Just like dating.”

Cassandra sighed, took a sip from her glass and watched him through her lashes. His words were rational enough and she had expected that from him. He always had something to say about almost everything.

“What do you think?” he asked when she did not say a word.

Cassandra chuckled. “You really want to know what I’m thinking.” It was not a question.

“Of course. But let me tell you this before you say what you have to say.” He paused and scooted closer, urging her to meet his eyes. “I think that we’re really good in bed together. We may not be perfect as a couple in a lot of ways, but we’re good in bed. I don’t want to miss that part with you. Yes, sure, we’ll end up divorcing after a few more months and we’ll go on our own separate ways. And when that time comes, I don’t want us both frustrated thinking what would have happened if we didn’t deprive ourselves of this. If the time comes that we have to split, I’d like to think I divorced a lover. We started with this marriage with different reasons and I didn’t want it to end the same way.” He said it without pause and when he was finally done, he was looking more anxious.

“Are you done?” she asked laughingly.

He looked as if he was about to say more but he nodded while taking a deep breath.

“Okay, let me clear some few stuff first. Are you saying that in some ways, you regret your decision of forcing this marriage? Because with the way you said those things, it sounded like that.”

“Yes, in some ways, I do regret it. It was not my original idea, you know.”

“Really?”

He looked at her dryly, “I’m not as cold-hearted as you might think. Do you think I liked the idea? But what’s done is done. I can’t possibly undo what happened. And I agreed with your father—”

“Philip, please, don’t take me for a fool. I know such absurd contract doesn’t exist. No one would ever make such a contract legal.” She looked at him squarely.

“Henry can,” he said with a scoff.

“But you and I both know Henry is not just any normal lawyer. He is more than that, is he?”

Her husband shrugged. “His day job is a lawyer.”

Cassandra groaned. “You’re not going to tell me the truth, are you? Why? Because you don’t trust me with it?” she asked.

“It’s not that,” he said. He gave her a serious look. “I can tell you the mess I am in, but that will also mean telling you about your father. And that is a matter I don’t think I have the right to talk about. It is his story to tell.”

“But Philip—”

“Just think of it this way, Cass,” he patiently said, “Just think of this like a game of chess. Your father is the king of the other side. And I am just the horse piece that joined the fray because of some stroke of bad luck. I cannot tell you how the horse got back without telling you how the game even started.”

Cassandra nodded. “Because telling me about the game means telling me about the story of the other pieces, including the king’s,” she concluded.

He nodded. “Exactly.”

“And what about Henry Bell? What is he in this game of chess?”

“He is the piece that is silently making its way to the other side without them knowing.” When he saw her doubtful look, he added, “Trust me, he is on our side.”

Cassandra groaned. “Philip, I want to know everything.”

When he didn’t say anything, she sighed. “You know, whether you tell me or not, I know my father’s in deep trouble. That’s why I am here. I am trusting him despite everything he—and you—did.” She looked up at the sky and let out a heavy breath.

“Your father will tell you the truth when the time comes, Cass. Just be a bit patient. And behave.”

“Why? Because I might get myself in danger?”

His eyes turned serious. “You will not be in danger. Stop worrying. As long as you behave, that is.”

She sighed. “Most often I find myself thinking we should just get that divorce earlier than you and my father planned. I could file for one the very next day. What do you think? No one can stop me, right? The wedding was very legal, after all.”

“That’s not going to happen, babe,” he smirked. “As much as I hate your cooking, I can’t disappoint my family this soon. It’s the first time they are actually happy.”

“Yeah,” her smile faded, “your family is great.”

“And you’re stalling again. Tell me what you think of my proposal.”

“You’re too impatient,” she pointed out. “Okay, fine, I agree with your statement. I’d rather end this freaking marriage in a different way. I’m tired of fighting with you and sex might lessen that part a bit.”

His mouth hung open in disbelief. “You’re saying yes to my proposal because you think I’ll get softer?”

“Of course. As far as I know, men who are sexually satisfied have good moods all the time.”

His laughter rang out and his shoulder shook with it. He took her by surprise by kissing her fully on the mouth, his lips still twitching with laughter. After many minutes, they were gasping for breath and she said, “Yeah, I think I made the right decision. You’re such a good negotiator.”

“And I’m also good in a lot of other things. Would you like to find out more about it?” he looked at her naughtily.

Cassandra chuckled and pushed him away, “Maybe later…”

---

“Cass!” Philip’s voice rang out from the bathroom.

“Hmm…” she moaned, her face buried in the pillow. She had been sleeping in his room for a week now—except when she was having one of her tantrums.

“Cass…” his voice was more audible and clear as he was already hovering above her beside the bed.

“What?”

“What did I tell you about the toothpaste?”

Bummer, she forgot to recap the tube last night. “I’ll remember it next time, don’t worry.” She turned to the other side, hugging one pillow. If it was a month ago, she would have gone crazy over his pathetic obsession with cleanliness, but most days now she just found herself surprised that she was used to it. In fact, there were times she found it amusing.

But not when it was too early in the morning. No, never.

“You also said that yesterday.”

That did it. “Fine,” she came fully awake in an instant and was about to jump out of bed when she remembered she was naked so she strapped the comforter around her and stormed toward the bathroom, took the toothpaste, recapped it and walked back where he was standing and slapped the tube in his hand. “Happy?” And then she stormed toward the door adding, “I’ll return your comforter later!”

She slept in her room for another hour or so after dressing. But that was not for long because she was awakened by the knock on the door.

She ignored it.

“Cass,” her husband’s voice called from the other side. “If you’re not going to open this door, I’ll break it.”

She snapped her eyes open. It was Monday again and he was probably knocking to remind her of her chores.

Cassandra suddenly had a crazy wild idea in mind and she immediately acted on it. She went to her bathroom and plugged her blower.

“Cass…” his warning voice called out once again.

“What?” she tried real hard to make out a weakened voice.

“Open the door.”

“I’m too sick…” she said, adding a cough for drama.

“What do you mean sick?”

“Sick like fever and cough,” she coughed once more and turned on her blower. She then pointed it at her forehead.

“You didn’t seem sick earlier,” his voice was etched with concern and doubt.

“I am now…” she turned off the blower and ran back to her bed.

He did not answer. It was not a minute longer when she heard a key working on her doorknob.

She was not surprised he had a key to her room. She felt for her forehead and prayed the heat the blower brought would stay a little longer.

She closed her eyes and buried her shoulders deep in the comforter.

“Cass…” she heard his footsteps briskly walking toward her and she fought the urge to open her eyes.

“Hmmm…” she forced out a really weak moan. She was getting good at it.

“How in the hell did you get a fever all of a sudden?” he asked, planting the back of his hand on her forehead. “God, you’re burning up…we need to get you to a hospital.”

“No, no. I’ll feel better after a long rest,” she said in alarm. The hospital would throw her out in the streets once they took her temperature and Philip would drag her home in fury. She could already picture the scenes in her mind.

“I’ll go get you a medicine.” She was not able to stop him because he was out the door in a flash.

Now, she was worried what would happen to her if she took that medicine. Whatever, she was going take it. She couldn’t possibly get well all of sudden, right?

---

Philip did not believe her. She was fine earlier.

And he saw the damned blower. And heard it when she turned it on earlier.

But who was he to stop her from enjoying her act?

He grabbed what he needed from his bathroom cabinet. Before he went back to his mendacious, conniving wife, Philip looked at himself in the mirror.

“You’re a good actor,” he reminded himself. Hiding a smile, he turned and walked back to Cassandra’s room.

---

“Here, take this,” Philip said gently by the time he got back. Cassandra opened her eyes and saw the concern in his eyes. A big attack of conscience gripped her all of a sudden.

“I can do it,” she whispered, taking the tablet from him. She prayed a single prayer before popping it in her mouth. She took the glass of water he was holding and took tiny—really tiny—sips of water. Of course she didn’t swallow the tablet, she hid it under her tongue and she was itching for him to get the hell out of the room because the taste was horrible. Harrison was a doctor and he mentioned once that the mouth can absorb medications. She had to spit it out soon.

“Get a good rest now, okay?” he kissed her forehead before he stood up.

Cassandra just nodded because she couldn’t open her mouth. He tucked her in and went out the door. The moment it closed, she spit out the tablet in her hand, went to the bathroom and flushed it out. She gargled and walked back to her bed.

---

Philip had his ear pressed against the door, fighting a laugh as he heard his wife scramble to the bathroom door.

He checked his watch and frowned.

Henry should be sending a message soon.

The meeting he and Kurt Anders had during the man’s birthday party went well.

The men hardly showed any suspicion.

Kurt now believed that they may move freely and faster now.

Philip didn’t have to do anything, really. He was simply tasked to pretend enjoying a married life while doing his usual work.

But if Kurt and Henry succeeded, it would only mean two things: Philip’s ass would be saved and he would no longer need his wife.

---

“Now what am I going to do?” she sighed. “That was a stupid thing, Cass. You should call yourself The Lady Who Cried Wolf,” she snapped at herself. “It was his fault. He woke me up just to recap the freaking toothpaste.”

I shouldn’t have pretended being sick, she regretted. She had nothing to do. I should be better in the afternoon. Yes, I’ll do that.

She heard approaching footsteps and she hurried back under her covers and closed her eyes.

“Hey, you need to eat,” she felt him sit beside her on the bed. And she smelled the smell of soup. Her mouth watered.

“I don’t feel like eating,” she lied.

“You have to,” he prodded, feeling her forehead. He frowned. “You don’t feel that hot anymore. The medication was fast,” he observed.

“Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better.”

“You should rest anyway,” he told her, spooning the soup. “Try this,” he sent it to her mouth.

“I can do this, you know,” she looked at him dryly.

“Just eat,” he ordered firmly. She obliged unwillingly, feeling awkward that he was actually feeding her because he thought she was really sick.

“You have to take a bath after this,” he uttered.

“Okay,” she did not bother to argue.

“What did you do anyway? Why did you burn up all of a sudden?”

I turned on the hair blower, she answered silently. “I don’t know.”

“You’re working yourself too hard. You’ve been painting like crazy you don’t even have time to eat.”

“I have a deadline to meet.”

“You won’t meet it when you’re sick,” he countered.

Cassandra fell silent and prayed for forgiveness for all the lies she had said and made up and was about to make if needed.

---

Later that afternoon, she had reached her limit of boredom. Philip checked on her from time to time and she appreciated that. Hey, at least he cared after all.

“You should be resting,” he said when she found him in the kitchen making a salad. She just recently found out that he was a terrific cook. And he endured her cooking when he could actually do better!

“I feel a lot better,” she told him, resting her elbows on the counter. “In fact, I’m going out today.”

“It’s nearly dark,” he told her.

“Harrison will pick me up.”

His hands froze, his eyebrows snapped together, and his eyes were firing up with anger when he looked at her. “And where are you going?”

“I decided to give Dennis a visit. It’s been a long time since I saw him.”

Philip’s shoulders stiffened. “And why do you want to see him all of a sudden?”

She looked at him and couldn’t help to answer sarcastically, “He came out of his coma and called me.” When he did not give a comment at that, she gave him a look and told the truth, “I just want to see him, see how he’s doing. No significant reasons.”

“It’s getting late. You can’t just enter a hospital at night.”

I can use the Emergency part, her mind formulated. “Harrison is a doctor, remember? He can have entry anytime he wants. He’s affiliated with the hospital Dennis is in.”

“Dennis in a coma,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You have a good memory,” she couldn’t help her sarcastic remarks today. “And don’t tell me he wouldn’t know if I visited.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“But you were thinking it.”

He sighed. “All I was going to say is that you didn’t have to ask Harrison for a ride. I’ll take you there myself. I have much better access in the hospital.”

Cassandra’s mouth fell open. “You’ll what?”

“I’ll take you,” he repeated.

“But—”

“No buts. I don’t want you riding with Harrison.”

“But Philip, he’s on his way and—”

“Then tell him to make a U-turn or do you want me to ride along?”

“Fine, fine, I’ll call him,” she whirled around to get her phone. “Husbands…” she grumbled under her breath.

---

Harrison wasn’t happy that she was going with Philip. In the first place, she called him first.

“What’s wrong with him? Why won’t he let me take you? He doesn’t know Dennis.”

“It’s not like he doesn’t want you to do it,” she lied. “He just all of a sudden said he’s taking me and he’s not going to take no for an answer. I know him. So I’m really sorry, Harry. Don’t worry we’ll go together next time.”

“I want to talk to him now.” That took her by surprise.

“What? Who?”

“Your husband, “ her friend answered.

“Harry, can this wait next time?”

“No, I want to talk to him.”

“But—”

“Do you want me to go there and talk to him in person?”

“Okay,” she said resignedly and went down to the kitchen. “He wants to talk to you.”

Philip frowned. “Who?”

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Harrison.”

Without a second thought, he dropped everything he was doing and strode toward her and grabbed her phone.

“Yes,” Philip said as he placed her phone against his ear. He turned away from her so she couldn’t see his expression. She followed behind him while he paced around the kitchen, anxiously trying to take a peek at his face. “I’m her husband and I have a say on this, do you get it?”

Cassandra cringed at her husband’s tone.

“What the hell does that mean?” she saw his jaw clench, the veins on his neck engorging.

“What did he say? What are you talking about?” Cassandra asked in a hushed tone. She tapped Philip’s arm when he just absently looked at her, too focused on his conversation.

“That’s bullshit. No, let me tell you one thing—I’m not getting out of this just because you told me to.”

“Philip,” she prodded, more curious about their topic now.

He held up on hand to silence her, his brows knitted in a line. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Philip,” she shook his arm this time.

“Hold on,” he said to the phone, covered it with one hand and looked at her irritably. “Stop it,” he said with warning. “This is between me and him.”

She gasped in disbelief, intending to fight back but the look on his face told her she better stay away.

“Good. Not a word,” he said with a smile.

“I hate you,” she mouthed, glaring at him.

He gave her a quick grin before his frown went back and he talked to the phone. “Go on.”

Cassandra sat there like a child who received a time-out.

“What? No, I don’t. Who?”

At that point, Cassandra was at a loss. She had no idea what they were talking about at the moment, but she could feel the masculine energies whirling between Philip, the phone, and probably Harrison’s side wherever he was.

“I got it. I actually know her.” He listened and scoffed. “A business associate. Why do you even care?” He shook his head. “No, I won’t let anything happen. You don’t trust me? Well, that’s your problem. No, don’t even try that.”

She then saw Philip’s instant shocked reaction to whatever Harrison was saying.

His voice was cold when he said, “That won’t be possible and I’m warning you. Stay put.” Those were his last words before he finally took the phone from his ear.

“What was that? What were you talking about?” she jumped on her feet across him.

“Why didn’t you tell me he’s been offering you marriage?” he demanded. Okay, so he was not going to answer her questions. And how the hell did Harrison manage to let that piece of information slip into their conversation?

“Why would I tell you that?”

“Why would you tell me that…” he repeated dryly. “Try thinking you have a husband who should know details like that.”

“It’s not like I said yes to him. And if you remember, I never intended to tell you anything about my friends.”

“Then why do you still hang out with him when you know he’s got feelings for you?”

“Because he’s still my friend. And,” she stopped him before he could say another word. “Don’t tell me I can’t see him anymore because that will be a real problem.”

She heard him take a deep breath before he said, “I’m not going to tell you such thing. All I want from you is to tell me if you are considering his offer.”

“What? No, I’m not. As I told you, I see him as a friend, nothing else.”

He looked at her for a long time before he shrugged, “That’s good enough for me.” And he walked off.

“So are we going now?”

“Yes. Go get ready. Let’s get this over with.”

---

The fear Cassandra was feeling as they drove to the hospital during that late afternoon had nothing to do with Philip or Harrison or Dennis.

There were other reasons why she had stopped seeing Dennis at the hospital and those reasons had names: Sheena and Beth.

“We can do this on a different day if you want. You just got well from that fever,” Philip looked at her through the rearview mirror.

“No,” she answered instantly. “I planned to do this today and I’m doing it.”

“You’re too impulsive, you know that?”

“Yes, I know,” she snapped. She admitted to that one because it was true. Just this afternoon, while she was lying on her bed, she thought she should visit Dennis and see what happened. So she called Harrison right away. Yes, she was definitely impulsive.

They reached the hospital and were lucky to arrive in time of the end of visiting hours. And as they walked down the corridor leading to Dennis’ room, she felt herself start to shake. Philip sensed her anxiety and held on to her shoulders.

“I’m fine,” she squared her shoulders.

“Okay, you’re good,” he said.

They stopped at a door that opened to her worst nightmares. She knocked twice—which was hard because her arms felt heavy all of a sudden—and waited.

When the door opened and the young woman with straight, short and blonde hair identified her, she received the welcome she somehow expected.

She received a very stinging slap across her left cheek, making her head snap to her right.

Yes, she expected that, but it stung like hell.

“You bitch! What are you doing here?!” Sheena’s furious voice cried out close to her face.

Just as I thought, Cassandra thought to herself, feeling her left cheek with her hand.

Chapter 24

“That’s a very nice welcome,” Cassandra said as coldly as she could. She looked down at Sheena’s small stature before her. Her enemy’s five foot four height was nothing to her five foot eight. But Cassandra could not easily beat her because the woman was stronger than she looked—especially when it came to Cassandra.

“How dare you—” Sheena’s hand went up for another attack but Philip was fast to catch it with his hand this time. Sheena’s eyes flew toward him in fury.

“Sheena, right?” he asked, and Cassandra was taken aback. How did he know about Sheena? “Don’t touch my wife again, please,” she heard him say coldly, his blue eyes seriously serious.

Sheena roughly pulled her hand away with a menacing laugh. “Look here. You found a husband? So Beth was telling the truth?” Her gray eyes transferred to Philip, “How unlucky of you. You better hold on tight though. She might get you in another car wreck and I say you’ll be lucky to be dead.”

“We did not come here to see you, Sheena, so cut the speech. It’s getting really old,” Cassandra told her.

“Get out. You’re not welcome here.”

“Says who?” she raised one eyebrow at the blond lady standing between her and the room. She took one step inside and circled around her forever nemesis. Her ever supportive husband followed behind.

“I’ll call security,” Sheena cried out.

“Go ahead,” Cassandra turned around to face her with a sly smile. “It would be my pleasure to tell them you slap everyone who visits Dennis. That would be assault, right?”

“I don’t know why you’re here, bitch, but make sure that you’re gone when I get back.” Sheena whirled around, her short blond hair cutting through air as she did so. The door slammed behind her as she left, leaving Cassandra alone with Philip—and of course, Dennis.

Cassandra slowly turned around to face the hospital bed where Dennis’s comatose body lay and she gasped. The feeling of seeing him lying on that bed powerless and almost lifeless broke her composure. Seeing the man who had been haunting her dreams for almost two years in such state hurt more than a hundred slaps from Sheena. God, it hurt to know that the man who had been so full hope for his future was lying there motionless, oblivious of the time passing by, and it was all her fault.

She felt that same clenching feeling in her chest every time she remembered the car crash. The pain she thought had stopped was just sleeping after all. It was still there, the feeling of so much guilt. Once again, like two years ago, she was bombarded of too many ’ if only’ thoughts.

Her tears broke free as she slowly walked toward him, her feet wobbling.

Philip never uttered a word which was what she needed from him at the moment. She didn’t need his touch for now because she felt she would crumble on the floor if anything as much brushed her skin. That was how weak she felt right now.

The whimper that escaped her lips was brought by the look on Dennis’s face. It was still as she remembered it. But it was also different. His black hair was still dark, but his face was different, almost lifeless. He looked pale and dry.

He missed a lot of sun, she thought.

The tubing that was attached to his mouth a long time ago was gone. But those machines monitoring his vital signs were still there. So was the emergency cart she once drew on. Slowly, she willed her hand to touch his sleeping face and it felt so familiar. His face, his skin, and she knew his brown eyes would still be as what they were when they looked at her back then. Her shoulders began to shake once more.

She was full of guilt that she couldn’t contain it inside her. She was well and doing crazy things while he was stuck here, his mind somewhere only she could imagine.

She had fought with his family when they decided to take off life support. She had fought hard because she didn’t want to lose hope that he would wake up and be better again. She fought because she couldn’t live another single day knowing she didn’t do anything to save him. And now, he could breathe on his own, obviously, but he was still lost in a place no one knew.

Deep down inside, Cassandra thought that Dennis could be tired right now and that if he could only talk, he’d ask them to let him go. Only she and Sheena believed he’d wake up, but it seemed that it was not going to happen any time soon.

“I’m sorry, Dennis,” she whispered brokenly. “I’m really sorry…” She sniffed, and would have fallen on the floor if Philip did not catch her and took her into his arms. “It’s my entire fault. Sheena was right. It was my entire fault…” she cried out, her shoulders shaking.

She clung to her husband’s shoulders like she was about to fall off a cliff.

“No, don’t think that,” Philip whispered in her ear. He ran his hand back and forth around her back to soothe her. His even heartbeat against her heaving chest helped ease the pain and his gentle words of assurance were lullaby to her ears. But she cried harder, pouring out every ounce of guilt and hurt.

“I just want him to forgive me. God, I want him to wake up and tell me it’s all okay,” she cried against his chest, her tears drenching his shirt.

Philip did not say a word, probably speechless seeing her like that. Who wouldn’t be? But she didn’t care what he was thinking. Right now, she got her answers.

Yes, seeing Dennis gave her answers to questions, but it also made her feel worse. God, she wouldn’t disagree if Sheena was there and called her a bitch one more time because right now, that’s how she felt of herself.

---

Minutes later, Cassandra looked up and said, “Can I have a moment alone with him?”

“Of course, I’ll be outside,” Philip said quietly and walked out the door.

Cassandra composed herself before she turned to face Dennis.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said. “In case you haven’t figured out yet, he’s my husband. It’s a long story and I won’t have enough time to tell you.” She forced a smiled on her face and brushed his black hair with her shaking fingers. “I see they cut your hair,” she chuckled, her thoughts flying back to her memories with him. They seemed blurry now, but they were still there. Five years with him gave her many to remember.

“He’s handsome, isn’t he?” she uttered, talking about Philip.

It kind of felt weird talking about her husband with Dennis but she felt like she could talk to Dennis freely more than anyone else and she sighed. “Do you know that he’s the reason why I came here? He asked me if I’m still in love with you. I don’t know why he wanted to know either, believe me.”

She sat beside him on the bed and took his hand in hers. “I know you’ve been hearing this a lot from me, but I’m sorry.” She swallowed and continued, “Now, I’m sorry because I…” she faltered, thinking if he could hear her and if he could, he might get hurt. “I’m sorry because I think I’m finally starting to let you go.”

A single tear fell from her eye. “I don’t know if it’s because of him, Den. I honestly don’t know. And I’m afraid. I don’t know what to do. I’m so confused. It would have been easier if you didn’t leave me hanging and now, even our memories together are starting to fade as the days I spend with him goes by. He helps me forget in a way that’s healthy, you know.”

Then, she laughed. “I’m going crazy, I know. But don’t worry, I got my answer,” she looked at him sadly. “I’m starting to let go. But it’s really scary.” She stood up and wiped her cheeks with her hands. “Anyway, I have to go. Sheena could get back any moment now and I’m not the type who turns the other cheek. Harrison told me the doctors might try some new procedures and they’re really optimistic about it. I really hope you’ll wake up.” She grinned and bent down to kiss his forehead. “I loved you, you know that right? And I still care for you.” Her hands stayed on his cheek as she said, “And don’t worry, I can handle Philip. Come what may, right?”

---

They left the hospital without meeting Sheena, but her relief was not about not having to confront Dennis’ childhood best friend once again. It was the lighter feeling she had in her chest.

She was right. She got the answer by seeing Dennis. But on the other hand, she also had another matter to face and it was called Philip. Back there, she finally admitted her husband’s effects on her. And yes, it was scary because she couldn’t just tell him, ‘Hey, I’m starting to like you,’ because their situation was getting in the way.

The stupid agreement kept reminding her that she couldn’t get anything out of their marriage other than sex and probably heartache if she was not careful.

“Feeling better?” Philip asked her as they climbed in the car.

“Yes, I guess so,” she answered and then remembered something. “How did you know Sheena’s name?”

“Harrison told me about her,” he said nonchalantly.

“He told you.”

He nodded as he put the car in gear. “He also mentioned a black-haired lady named Beth, one I actually happen to know.”

Cassandra laughed. “I can’t believe it,” she shook her head, remembering Dennis’ twin sister. Then she stiffened. “Wait. You know Beth?”

“I know a lot of people, Cass. She’s in real estate, right? We currently have a project together.”

“Wait, what?” she asked in horror.

“Why?”

She blinked. First, Angelica. Now, Beth? This was getting too personal for her. But business was business in Philip’s world. How could she even demand that he dismiss Beth from his life?

“So, how do you feel?” he asked, totally forgetting about Beth. Perhaps she should treat it as nonchalantly as he did as well. “Cass, how do you feel?” her husband asked again. The question was simple but the look on his face said it meant everything to him.

“Hurt. Sheena really has a strong hand,” she answered, feigning ignorance.

But he saw right through her because he said pointedly, “You know what I am asking about, Cassandra.”

“I don’t know, Philip,” she sighed. She was not ever going to tell him everything. That was why she sent him outside back there in the first place!

She saw his brows meet in a line through the rearview mirror. She wondered what he was thinking. Both of them really had to talk whatever they were keeping secrets. It was getting frustrating! But then again, she would never say anything unless he would do it first.

---

“When are you gonna take me into those woods?” she asked him later that night. They were in their usual spot at the back of the house, sitting on the lawn bench.

“When do you want to?” he asked, playing with her hair, twirling it around his finger.

“Anytime. I want to be in there while I’m still here,” she said and she felt his hand freeze. A brief tension passed between them for a moment.

“How about tonight?” he finally asked.

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, why not? We can go camping. That would be nice.” She saw the glimmer in his eyes and she instantly knew what he was thinking.

A chuckle escaped her lips before he claimed her mouth for a kiss. “Okay, okay, I give in. We’re going camping.”

---

“Stay on trail,” Philip told her for the nth time, all the while thinking how Henry was doing inside their house at that very precise moment. He sent his friend a message that the house would be free for the night and now the man was in there checking the entire place for bugs.

Now that Henry was getting close to completing his job, he was getting more paranoid. For Philip, it was better that Henry was acting paranoid because he did not like the idea of anyone listening in on his conversations.

“I heard you the last time,” his wife’s loud response draw him back to the moment. He looked over his shoulder and watched as she struggled with her flashlight and pack. “We could have just had dinner at home. It was more practical.”

“It’s not camping if we will not be roasting on fire.”

“You made me carry one whole chicken!” she complained. “Shit!”

“What happened?” He stopped and turned around to face her. She was slapping her legs, jumping from one foot to another. “Why the hell did you wear shorts?” he asked when he realized what was happening.

“I was expecting we’d be hiking or something!”

“Do you see a hill?” he sarcastically asked. “It’s nighttime, Cassy,” he said pointedly.

“I know!”

“Do you have some kind of repellant?”

“Why would I bring something like that?”

“Because it’s nighttime and we’re going into the woods.”

“I already know that!”

He sighed and took off his backpack. “I have some.”

“The repellant man,” she chuckled. He realized she was mocking him.

He pointed his flashlight right at her and said, “Do you want it or not?”

“Please, I’d love some.” He handed her the plastic bottle and continued down the trail.

---

An hour later, they had set up camp and were roasting chicken. They sat side by side staring at the fire, the shadows it created dancing on their faces.

“What would you do if he wakes up?” Philip asked her, his eyes not wavering from the fire as if he was talking to it.

He felt her stiffen beside him. “I don’t know,” she answered.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I can’t talk about it right now.”

He took a deep breath and lay on his back. “I didn’t want to talk about it either anyway.”

Cassandra smiled. She felt his finger drawing circles on her back as he lay there on the ground.

“Why do you like stars?” he was now drawing stars randomly with his finger.

“I don’t know. I like the shape. It’s all pointed and they point at every direction,” she stared at the sky and smiled. “And they are always everywhere. Even they’re not visible you know they are always there.”

“Hmm…” was all he said. His thoughts were drifting elsewhere. He was thinking how oddly they matched each other. He wondered why he was attracted to her when she could easily piss him off. And he wondered why he wanted to tell her to just stop thinking about Dennis, that what they had now was far better than anything.

Because for him it was. He was never the sort of guy who would pack his bags and go on adventures. The family empire was too important to ignore for some silly soulful experience. But now he was thinking he understood why some of the people he knew would always find time to jump from one place to another to seek out adventure. The experience was intoxicating, he thought.

Cassandra was the adventure he never got to have. And he was addicted to it. He wanted to do more with her, enjoy more with her.

“Okay,” she scooted and lay back beside him. He took her hand and intertwined their fingers. “You know almost everything about me but you never told me anything about you. That’s unfair.”

He chuckled. “There’s nothing much to tell.”

“I still want to know.”

“What do you want to know?” his thumb played with her hand as he said it.

“I want to know the controversial stuff.”

“That’s something I never had. My life had been plain and simple,” he moved his head to the right to face her, “until I met you. And don’t think it is all good because you’re one heck of a difficult woman to handle.”

“Should I be happy about that?” she frowned.

“Yes, of course. It’s the closest to a compliment you’ll get from me.”

“I hate you,” she said lightly.

“No, you don’t,” his head moved closer. He loved how he could smell the hint of his soap in his skin.

“I do sometimes,” she answered, staring at his lips.

“In that case, I should say the same thing.” His lips were smiling widely as they landed on hers. He turned her on her back and covered her body with his. The chicken was forgotten as they relished themselves to the new fire they ignited. Cassandra eagerly roamed her hands over his back and Philip had the urge to pull her tighter, feel every inch of her and never let go.

“I think the chicken is ready,” she rasped against his lips.

“I’m hungry for something else,” he whispered, his teeth traveling to her ear.

He heard her moan. “Philip, I’m hungry. Like really hungry. Literally.” She gently pushed at his chest.

He claimed her mouth once again and pushed away with a groan. “Okay, let’s eat.:

“We have all the time in the world anyway,” he heard her say.

Not all the time, he said in his mind. Days are ticking by,

Philip thought.

They hungrily ate the chicken and talked some more. They talked about Willie and his upcoming party. They talked about her exhibit for the next month. They talked about almost everything but never about them. That was something they both mutually understood as a topic not safe to tackle. They talked and made love in the tent they had set up, forgetting about everything as they always did.

---

The next day was really weird.

Philip seemed different.

Really different. He was silent than usual and when she asked him what was wrong with him, he said, “I’m fine.”

She noticed that he was thinking about something as they packed up to go back home. Cassandra was frowning all the way back, wondering if she did anything or said something that made him like that. He was not angry, but he was silent—almost distant.

What’s freaking wrong with him? He’s not undergoing andropause, is he? Because he’s too young for that.

The moment they arrived home, Philip went straight to get a bath and locked himself in his office.

Cassandra tried not to mind him and went on with her painting. She was working on something she didn’t want him to see so she worked in her balcony for the rest of the day. It was his turn to clean up today so it was no problem. But the curious thing was that she did not see him anywhere near the vacuum cleaner or the rake or the lawnmower. He just stayed inside his freaking office doing God-knows-what.

Well, whatever his problem was, it was not hers to carry.

So he was not talking about it? Fine! She had a problem of her own. One was Sheena calling her telling her not to come back. Second, she got a text from Beth, Dennis’ twin sister who had hated her since the beginning of time saying she better not see her step inside her brother’s room and that it was a good thing she was not there yesterday.

Yes, not everyone liked her. Sheena and Beth were proof of that. They always thought she was to blame of Dennis being in that state. The sad thing was that, she agreed with them. That was one reason why she never went back to see Dennis. For them, she was just someone who was trying to marry him for money. Cassandra’s family was well-off, but Dennis’ was way out of reach—just like Philip’s. And by the time they were engaged, her father’s company had already been struggling and that was when the rumors started.

She did not mind it, and neither did Dennis. After all, they were in love and had no care for the world.

But then, that was before everything changed.

With those simple words of his telling her they should call off the wedding, everything went tumbling down and her haters grew. She did not tell them about Dennis’ decision to call off the wedding because she was stricken with grief and guilt. She accepted their accusations because she believed she deserved it. She endured every freaking day being in that hospital with his family and Sheena but when she had enough and finally left—one reason was Harrison’s urgings—they took it the wrong way and thought she was finally giving up.

Well, you couldn’t please everyone and Cassandra was never the person who would do such a thing just for that very reason. The only person she did that for was Dennis.

He was all righteous and proper that she gave an effort not to please him, but to please the people he interacted with. He was always good to her, always there when she needed him the most, and he never listened to his family when they told him he should leave her.

Dennis was the perfect boyfriend. And in some part, it was exhausting for her because she always had to try her best not to disappoint him or his family, or his friends. That was the only thing she regretted ever doing for love. But other than that, she loved her relationship with Dennis. Hell, she thought she loved it until it was all over.

Then her thoughts drifted back to Philip, her ever moody husband who decided for himself that he was alone and locked himself in his room—again. Dennis had had days like that which is why Cassandra could see the similarity. But it was also different. In the past, she did not mind that Dennis lose himself at work. Now Philip was doing it and she was fuming.

Now her emotions were in rumbles and his sudden shift of behavior this morning wasn’t helping at all.

Hell, she better get out and take some time off. She covered her work with a cloth and kept it in her closet. She then went to her phone and dialed Chanty’s number.

She was helping his sister with Willie’s party, with or without him.

---

After dressing up in her usual jeans and shirt, she went and stood before his office door. She heard his intense voice—he was probably talking to someone on the phone—before she knocked. She heard him abruptly end the conversation. It was not like his usual business voice and it brought her a humongous curiosity to ponder on.

One of the chess pieces , she wryly thought.

“Yes?” he asked when he opened the door, his face blank. She would have preferred it if he was looking grumpy or angry because she would know how to deal with it. But right now, he was just plain unreadable and it was killing her.

“I’m going out.”

“Where?”

“I’m going to meet Chanty. We’ll plan Willie’s party.”

He frowned. “I’ll go get my keys.”

“Why?”

“I’ll take you to Chanty. I’ll just come back to pick you up.”

“No, I can get a cab.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. But call me if you need a ride. I’m also going out later.”

“Sure,” Cassandra said and turned around to leave. She heard his office door close and she frowned.

That was it?

Yesterday, he was adamant on telling her he was taking her to the hospital. And now he just said okay . She honestly didn’t know if she should be happy about it or not.

What’s freaking wrong with him?

Chapter 25

“Look who came! I can’t believe you invited her, Chanty.” Disgust was prettily mixed with Angelica’s voice.

Cassandra wasn’t expecting her, but she couldn’t turn around and leave. That wouldn’t do for her. Two meetings and she was getting used to Angelica’s glare and stupid remarks to care anyway. “Hello, I wasn’t expecting you here, Angelica,” she greeted as she neared their table outside the café.

“Hello, Cass,” Chanty smiled, standing up to give her a kiss. It was weird how she handled the situation with her friend ready to rip her sister-in-law’s skin. “Don’t mind Angelica. She’s just bitter.” She then looked at her friend and said, “Stop that. You’re giving her a really bad impression.”

Angelica rolled her eyes and leaned back against her chair, crossing her arms across her chest. “Whatever,” she muttered.

Cassandra smiled and sat down across them. “Where’s Willie?”

“He’s with his babysitter. I can’t take him with me if I want to have progress with the party. Thank you for what you did last time, Cass. And he is walking!”

“I enjoyed it so no worries, Chanty.”

“Where’s your husband?” Angelica asked her.

“Home, working,” she sighed as she said that. “He was acting weird this morning that’s why I called.” It just came out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Great, she was talking about her worries with her husband in front of his sister and the woman who seemed ready to steal him away.

Angelica laughed like she was enjoying it. “It looks like you’re not making that much progress, Cassandra.”

Chanty nudged her friend. “Hey, what did I tell you?”

Angelica raised her hands, feigning innocence, “Fine! Fine! I was just saying…”

“You might be right though,” Cassandra told her.

Angelica raised her brows and said, “Yeah?”

Cassandra nodded, “Yes. I’m not a very good cook. But you can’t tell that to anyone.”

Chanty laughed, her blue eyes, like her brother’s, glittering. “You’re not alone in that. Ange and I are terrible cooks.”

Angelica sighed and reached for her coffee. “Couldn’t agree more,” she said and looked at Cassandra. “You should learn though.”

Cassandra was getting comfortable being around the red-haired beauty before her. She was not saying she was a great judge of character, but she could tell at that moment that Angelica might not be what she thought she was. Maybe Philip was right. She might just be having issues. And she was just plain tactless. “I’m trying.”

“You should give me a call if you’re tired of him though.”

“Ange!” Chanty cried out in frustration.

“What? That’s true. I would gladly take your brother if she won’t have him.”

Cassandra couldn’t help but chuckle. “You really say and do what you want, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Angelica looked at her straight in the eyes. “I would still be trying to take Philip away from you if I didn’t realize you’ll be such a difficult opponent. But don’t worry. As much as I hate your gut right now, I know I’ll be wasting time.”

Cassandra was startled. “What exactly are you saying?”

Angelica did not answer. She just shrugged and sipped her coffee.

“Philip gave her a call,” Chanty explained.

“Don’t tell her that,” Angelica snapped at her friend.

“What did he say?” Cassandra asked curiously. “When did he call you?”

“Oh, shut up, Ange. It’s not like it was the first time he told you to leave him alone,” Chanty uttered to her friend.

Angelica made a horrified face. She actually looked more embarrassed than angry for having Cassandra hear about her misfortunes. “It’s only the third time, okay?”

Okay, Cassandra couldn’t hold her laughter for too long so she gave in, her shoulders shaking with mirth.

“Great, just freaking great, Chanty,” Angelica said irritably, inching away from her friend. “Now I look like a fool.”

“No,” Cassandra said laughingly. “It’s just that…” she couldn’t stop laughing so she waited for it to subside before she continued, “I just realized you’re not at all that serious.”

Chanty and Angelica frowned at her, “What do you mean?” Angelica asked her.

“I mean, you’re not that serious about stalking Philip. You’re just in it for the chase, am I right?”

Chanty laughed, “You bet that’s right.”

“Whatever,” Angelica rolled her eyes.

“I get it now,” Cassandra uttered with relief. “You couldn’t stop going after Philip because you never caught him.”

“That’s what I told her, but she wouldn’t admit it,” Chanty said with a laugh. “She is always saying she likes the thrill—especially when you came about—but she won’t admit that she is giving up because she never got her goal.”

“You know what? I think I’m leaving,” Angelica started to stand up.

“No!” Chanty and Cassandra said in unison, their faces obviously amused.

“You’re making fun of me,” Angelica accused.

“I was just relieved to know you are not actually serious about chasing my husband,” Cassandra told her.

“But I would still get him if he’ll give me the chance,” Angelica’s gaze was challenging, but not alarming.

“Yeah, you could try that.”

“You’ll just get another call from him,” Chanty laughed once more.

“I hate you. The two of you!” Angelica fumed, glaring at them.

“Don’t worry, you might just get him,” Cassandra said without thinking. Chanty’s laughter stopped as she and Angelica stared at her, frozen in their spot. “I mean maybe he would want to get rid of me if I don’t get to learn how to cook a freaking fried chicken properly the next time I try.”

Chanty giggled. “You made me nervous back there, Cass.”

“I was beginning to hope,” Angelica sighed. “But don’t get me wrong, Cassandra.” She fixed her a serious look. “I’m not over yet. I’m just laying down low because I got my eye on someone else. You just as much as let Philip go, I’ll be back on track and you won’t be able to stop me.”

“Wow…” Cassandra smirked, “that was one hell of a scary speech.”

Angelica straightened on her seat and smiled proudly. “I’m scary, I know that.”

“That’s why guys don’t go after you, Ange,” Chanty pointed out.

“I’m too impulsive to care, you know that,” she flipped her red hair back.

“So, who’s this guy you’re after at the moment ?” Chanty asked her.

Angelica smiled wickedly. “You don’t have to know that. That would be between me and him.”

Cassandra smiled. What a day! Not a cell in her body wanted to like Angelica a day before, but now she had to admit she had to change her mind because the red-head was starting to amuse her.

But on second thought, she shouldn’t be feeling the relief if she didn’t care for Philip at all, right? And why did she suddenly feel the urge to prove to Angelica that she was a good wife?

This is getting really complicated…

“…and I’m not even trying to really chase this guy because I want to. It has something to do with work,” she heard Angelica explain.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Angelica held up her hand and added, “What I want to talk about right now is Willie’s party.”

“Oh, yes, right. My baby’s WALKING PARTY.”

“I don’t really get it why you want to have such a party, but okay, let’s plan,” Angelica said dryly.

---

Her phone rang just in time that they were wrapping up the plan for Willie’s party.

“What?” she answered in a rather irritated tone. It was a wonder her husband even had the decency to call.

“I’ll come pick you up right now,” he answered in pretty much the same tone.

“No,” she answered coldly. She saw Angelica and Chanty share a look, their eyes concentrated on the piece of paper Chanty had been writing on. Cassandra was certain their ears were on her though.

“Why the hell not?” She could imagine his brows frowning, his blue eyes glinting with anger, and his hands clutching his phone tightly.

“Because I’ll be having lunch with Chanty and Angelica.”

“Angelica? I thought you don’t like her.”

“I didn’t. Now I changed my mind. We’re really busy, so goodbye.” She clicked off before she could hear him cuss.

“What was that about?” Chanty asked her, not able to contain her curiosity.

“He wants to pick me up all of a sudden,” she explained.

“Why?” Angelica asked.

“I don’t know. And I don’t really care right now.”

“He’ll come for sure,” Chanty uttered, wincing. “I told him where we are.”

Cassandra groaned and closed her eyes. “I’ll be dead.”

“That will not be such a problem for me,” Angelica said with a smiled. “That way, I’ll have Philip for myself.”

If the lady had said that a day before, Cassandra would have jumped at her with her claws. But she knew Angelica was merely being her unserious tactless self, so she chuckled. “You can have him when I’m done with his mood swings.”

Chanty frowned. “Philip doesn’t have mood swings. He’s the most non-moody guy I know.”

That startled Cassandra. She was in perfect objection to that statement. “Really? Because I can very well tell you how moody your brother is.”

Chanty and Angelica looked at each other in disbelief. “He’s not moody,” Angelica uttered. “No, he’s never moody.”

“Yes, I agree with that,” Chanty seconded.

“Well, he is when we’re alone.”

“Then he’s all yours,” Angelica declared. “I don’t like moody.”

Cassandra chuckled. “Aww. Too bad! How unlucky of me!” Her gaze flew over Angelica’s red head and she groaned. “Shit. He really is a fast driver.”

The two ladies sitting across her turned around in unison to see what caused her distress.

“Here’s Mr. Moody,” Chanty whispered, turning back around in her chair as Philip’s form emerged out of his car.

“I can’t believe it,” Cassandra shook her head. Her heart was already hammering in anticipation, and she didn’t know what she anticipated. His anger? His presence perhaps?

“Hey, Philip,” Angelica spoke up in that purring tone of hers as her husband approached. It made Cassandra snort.

“Ange,” he said before stopping beside her. “Chanty,” he acknowledged his sister and looked down at her. “We have to go.”

“Go where?” she asked, not meeting his gaze.

“A party.” He looked at her as if she should know about it.

Then she remembered what he said earlier. He said he was going out today as well but he did not tell her she was coming with him! Was he nuts?

“You know I don’t like parties.”

“It’s a stupid tea party I can’t get away from.”

“A tea party? What is that? It’s a child’s game, for heaven’s sake,” she made a nauseated face. Chanty and Angelica laughed out loud.

“I know, okay?” he snapped. “Let’s go,” he took her hand, but she stayed seated.

She looked him over. “You should be wearing some kind of Ken costume, right?” she looked at the two ladies who nodded in agreement. He looked down at his outfit. He wore a light blue polo shirt that was unbuttoned down to his throat, the sleeves folded up to his elbows. For her, it was an outfit fit for bed, not some stupid tea party.

“This is what I was wearing when Bethany called me up.”

Chanty’s smile froze and so did Angelica’s. “Bethany?” they both asked in unison. Really, the two of them should have been twins.

“Bethany?” Cassandra asked aloud. “Who?”

“We’re coming,” Angelica stood up and so did Chanty.

“We’re definitely coming,” her sister-in-law nodded.

“No, you can’t. You are not invited,” Philip snapped at them.

“Wait! Who’s Bethany?” Cassandra asked again, her head turning around in question, but no one seemed to care about her confusion.

“We’re coming. And she couldn’t possibly throw a Strindberg out the door, right?” Chanty indignantly said.

“And a Dalton,” Angelica uttered in the same manner.

“Hey!” Cassandra stood up, not able to contain it much further. “Who the hell is Bethany?”

“Bethany Wiles,” Chanty declared.

“Your husband’s other stalker,” Angelica finished.

Cassandra felt cold water wash over her and her face paled. Of course, how stupid of her to forget!

“She’s not my stalker, okay? She’s a friend who—” Philip stopped in midsentence when he saw her face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Cass?” Chanty asked with concern.

“Beth Wiles?” She asked in a deadly tone.

Philip nodded, and then froze. “It can’t be…” What? What did he want to say? It can’t be that bad? Was he crazy!

“What a stupid freaking small world,” Cassandra uttered in a whisper. He said they were business associates and now he was saying she was a friend

“Okay, we’re at a loss here,” Angelica declared.

“I didn’t realize it sooner,” Philip said without hearing Angelica. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“You didn’t freaking ask,” Cassandra snapped.

“Then we’re not going.”

It took her a moment to say, “No, we’re going.”

“We are?” Chanty, Angelica, and Philip asked in unison.

“Yes,” she answered strongly. It was time to see her other enemy. And Beth was stalking her husband? I would rather give him up for Angelica, she thought, fuming. Beth the bitch, here I come.

---

She road shotgun once again because Chanty and Cassandra decided to hitch a ride, leaving their own cars behind. She was silently sweating and gripping the sides of her seat, breathing heavily like a pregnant woman about to go on labor.

She sensed Philip’s gaze flicker toward her from time to time. He hadn’t said a word since they boarded the car. Chanty and Angelica on the other hand were talking incessantly about Beth like she was the worst creature ever made. Cassandra couldn’t disagree because as much as she hated Sheena, she hated Dennis’ sister more.

“How did you know Bethany, Cass?” Chanty asked all of a sudden.

“She’s her ex’s sister,” Philip answered, speaking for the first time.

That was obviously a shocker because the two ladies behind them were speechless.

“And let’s not talk about it,” Philip ordered in a flat tone. For the first time, she was thankful for that because she could hardly talk right that moment.

---

They drove on for more than thirty minutes where the so-called tea party would be held and it was a complete agony on her part. Her shirt was almost drenched with sweat by the time Philip parked the car and Angelica noticed it as they climbed out.

“What the hell are you wearing?” the lady frowned down at her outfit. Angelica and Chanty, ever so fashionable, were wearing dresses fit for any party while she was wearing her usual outfit fit for anywhere but a freaking tea party.

“That won’t do. Bethany will laugh at you.”

“Beth wouldn’t do such a thing. And she looks fine to me,” Philip said impatiently. “And we can just skip the party if you don’t feel like it, Cass.”

Cassandra glared at him. The last time, he dragged her to a stupid store to get her a dress and now she looked fine? What a moron!

Angelica shook her head. “This won’t do,” she looked around and pointed across the street. “Let’s get you a dress.”

“Yes, let’s do that,” Chanty nodded and looked at Philip stonily. “If you’re too giddy to go inside, go. We’ll come after you.”

Without another glance at them, he nodded and went toward the door of the restaurant.

Cassandra’s mouth fell open. He’s so dead when we get home. He’s gonna beg for mercy with what I’ll do to him!

“Okay, let’s go,” Chanty led the way across the street.

“Now I know what you meant when you said he’s moody,” Angelica muttered beside her with disappointment.

“I’m so going to kill him later,” her voice was shaking when she said that. He should be picking a dress for her right now!

“Do that,” Angelica nodded.

---

Her two companions snatched a blue-green dress without even looking if it would fit her.

But it did. And it looked awesome on her. But she doubted if Philip would agree with the way it showed more flesh than what she was used to revealing.

But on the other hand, she didn’t care at all at the moment. She looked beautiful. Angelica grabbed the silver high-heeled sandals for her which she wasn’t comfortable with, but it looked great so she said yes.

Not twenty minutes more, they walked out the store and crossed the street to the restaurant where her stupid, moody husband was.

Her heart started to thump loudly against her chest. She would surely see Beth for the first time after one year. Wonder how she looks like now?

She asked in her mind as the three of them entered the restaurant.

“What a bitch…” Angelica muttered with ire beside her.

She looked at the direction where her old enemy’s eyes were glaring and she froze.

There, standing just ten meters away from them was her husband. He was smiling that awesome smile of his down at the black-haired lady as she stood a bit too close, obviously talking about something amusing because the lady was giggling like crazy.

“What a jerk,” Chanty said, fuming. “My brother is such a jerk, I can’t believe it. Let’s go, Cass.” Her sister-in-law grabbed her by the hand and dragged her across the room full of people, mostly Philip’s associates, she assumed.

As if on cue, Philip’s gaze met hers and his smile froze and disappeared. Beth must have seen his reaction because she stopped talking and looked over her shoulder, following his gaze.

Then, her ex-soon-to-be-sister-in-law’s face went from glee to flat to fury.

Cassandra smiled inwardly upon seeing her reaction. Okay,this is gonna be fun…

Chapter 26

She didn’t like her husband’s sudden change of reaction when he saw her. And she was not sure if she should be happy that he recovered fast for he was all beaming widely now as he walked toward them purposefully, leaving behind Beth who stood stupefied staring at her.

“Ladies,” he said in acknowledgement, but his eyes never left her. In fact, they were hovering over her as if he was ready to take her home and do something else. But she didn’t care because she was so pissed. All she did was clench her teeth to refrain from saying something snappy. “You look great, babe,” he added.

“I know,” she raised her brow and looked over his shoulder. “I didn’t know you were that close to her.”

“We’re associates,” he explained.

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes and looked at Angelica and Chanty. Their faces alarmed her because they were not listening to her exchange with her husband—they were glaring at Beth like witches doing some silent curses in their minds.

Much to her disappointment, the subject of her ire and resentment trotted toward them like a cougar. “Here she comes,” she whispered.

Philip turned around to face his so-called associate, the smile on his face not wavering. “Beth, I would like you to meet my wife.”

If one had a good picture of Dennis, then he would simply try to give him longer hair, a healthier hue, and a smaller jaw. That would be the perfect picture of his twin sister.

“Cassandra,” she said in that airy voice of a woman. “How fantastic,” she added sarcastically, her eyes looking her up and down.

“Yeah, I know,” Cassandra said calmly. “What a small world,” she purposefully looked around and asked, “Where’s the tea? I thought this is a tea party?”

Angelica snorted beside her and Chanty—well, she giggled. Philip was oblivious of the ongoing battle of estrogen-driven felines because he was still standing there, relaxed and smiling. Or maybe he just plainly didn’t care.

She saw Beth’s face colored with anger.

“I’ll get you one if you want,” Philip said almost instantly.

Was he stupid? He was going to leave her alone with this bitch who was ready to pull her hair off?

“Get three cups of tea, Philip,” Angelica said with amusement, her hand on her hip. It was then that she remembered she had two comrades at her back. Philip was not entirely necessary after all.

Philip nodded and went away.

“I don’t remember inviting you,” Beth looked at Chanty and Angelica, her jaw clenching.

“We invited ourselves,” Chanty answered, flipping her dark brown tresses behind her shoulders.

Angelica spoke up in that menacing voice of hers, “We haven’t been to a tea party since we were…” she looked at Chanty, then at Cassandra inquiringly and then back at Beth, “five?”

“Six for me,” Chanty nodded, “Yes, I remembered I had a tea party with my little girl neighbor because Philip wouldn’t play it with me. That neighbor was my long-time imaginary friend, if you must know,” she snorted as she said that.

“I’ve never had a tea party,” Cassandra added, smiling now. “Seems like a poor and desperate attempt to be English.”

“And can I suggest that you three go home?” Beth stonily uttered. “If you are here to criticize my party, you can turn around and walk out the door.”

“We can endure it for an hour, I guess,” Angelica answered dryly, looking around the room uninterestingly. “But nothing more than that.”

Beth’s eyes flickered toward Cassandra. “I heard you went to see Dennis. Don’t ever do that again.”

“What? You’ll cut my throat? Please,” Cassandra scoffed.

“And you even went there with Philip? Were you trying to make a point?”

“No, I wasn’t. He was there because he wanted to.”

“I can’t believe he even married you. I didn’t even know about it until I read the paper. He tells me everything.”

“That only proves how unimportant you are, Beth. Did not get an invite, did you?”

Beth’s eyebrows raised, her lips twitching, “Are you sure?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t help but notice that he’s been a little bit worrisome lately,” Beth uttered with suspense. “I wonder if he’s having second thoughts about marrying someone like you.”

Oh, you have no idea why he married me, you bitch. “It’s probably because of my cooking,” she decided to take on a lighter approach.

Beth laughed evilly. Like Ursula and Morgana in the Little Mermaid evil laugh. Cassandra had the sudden urge to cover her mouth with her silver sandals, but they were new so she decided against it.

“I heard you’ve been after him,” Cassandra interrupted her laughter. “You better give up because you’re wasting your time.”

“Oh,” Beth purred, “You don’t know what I’m capable of, Cassandra,” she said her name like it was trash.

Did she realize she was up against three angry ladies who got nails like steel?

“Hey, listen here, you brat,” Angelica uttered in a scary voice that even made Cassandra’s hairs stand up. “I for one did all the things you did. And whatever you’re going to do next would be a copycat of what I did years ago, so back off.”

Beth’s mouth opened in disbelief. “What did you say? Who the hell do you think you are, Angelica?”

Angelica laughed, looked at Chanty and Cassandra before she said, “I happen to be Philip’s ex- stalker. And let me add that I have much talent on that field than you.”

“And if you’re smart, you’ll back off. I already have an amazing sister-in-law, Bethany,” Chanty added.

Cassandra’s heart was suddenly filled with gratefulness and warmth, but it soon drained down when her husband returned with three cups of tea carried by a waiter.

“What’s that?” She asked him.

“It’s tea,” he answered.

“I’m not drinking that,” Cassandra said snidely and walked off to the direction of the buffet. The sight of him made the anger inside her flare up so she better get as far away as possible at the moment. He had been ignoring her since this morning and now he took her to the freaking tea party of the women who hated her!

“Can’t drink that one as well,” she heard Angelica utter behind her. “For all I know, that tea might have some love potions.”

“Or poison,” Chanty added in a stinging tone. Oh, oh, nobody liked Philip at the moment.

She knew she’d be in trouble when they got home, but he too would be in hell as well. How dare he take her at this horrid place and talk to that woman like they were best buds? He knew she hated that woman, and vice versa!

Cassandra spent the next few minutes with Angelica and Chanty. Once, she saw Philip looking at her from the corner of the room while he talked with some guys and his eyes were obviously a mixture of anger and concern. He didn’t like what she did but he was also worried over—what? Worried she would cause a scene?

Tooth for a tooth, babe, she whispered in her mind.

“I have to go to the powder room,” she declared around the table she shared with Angelica and Chanty. They had been eating some finger foods that didn’t even reach her stomach.

She walked to the direction of the comfort room, making her way through a number of men wearing suit and tie and she realized her stupid husband did not even bother to introduce her to any of his associates. What a full-fledged moron!

The moment she entered the door, she saw Beth.

Great. Just freaking great.

But she couldn’t possibly back out the door now, could she? So she entered with her chin raised, her shoulders squared. She looked great anyway, so no problem.

“Your face wouldn’t change a bit whatever you do with it,” she couldn’t help but comment with ire.

Beth stopped what she was doing and turned away from the mirror to face her, baring her teeth.

Cassandra’s urge to answer nature’s call was long gone and she leaned one shoulder against the tiled wall of the comfort room, crossing her arms across her chest, raising her brow. Earlier, she didn’t get the chance to say what she wanted because Angelica and Chanty took the floor. But now, she was finally alone with the bitch who had been her worst enemy since her time with Dennis began.

“Get out,” Beth’s voice shook with too much fierce emotion.

“Oh, so now you own the comfort room?” she looked around her to see if any of the cubicles were occupied—they were not. Good.

“You’re the last person I want to see right now. And if it wasn’t for Philip, I would have dragged you out an hour ago.”

“Philip brought me here and…” she leaned away from the wall and walked slowly toward Beth who stepped back as she continued, “he took me here because he wanted to. Now, as for you,” she shadowed her enemy, her lips twitched in a menacing smile, and her eyes glinted with ire and warning, “back off. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“Oh…” Beth said shakily, but her eyes were pretty much the same as hers—full of anger. “Like what you did to my brother?”

Cassandra almost flinched, but she stood still, holding Beth’s gaze. God, it looked like she was staring down at Dennis’s eyes. She shook that thought away as well and said, “Dennis is a topic you shouldn’t tackle.”

“Why? Feeling guilty?”

Beth jumped an inch when Cassandra suddenly slammed her palm on the sink counter. She smiled when she saw fear flash across her enemy’s eyes. “You really want to go that far?”

Beth looked at her hand, then back at her. “You lay one finger on me, I’ll sue you.”

“You’re not worth my touch, sorry,” she said, pushing herself away before she could do anything worse. “And you lay one hand on my husband, you’re dead, you understand? As you have been telling everyone, I did crash a car against another, right? Well, Beth, you should also know I can run you over.” She saw Bethany’s eyes widen with fear and horror before she whirled around and walked out the door.

She was shaking when as she made her way back to her table, her vision was unfocused, her tears welling in her eyes.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Chanty asked her.

“I’m fine. I think I need to go home. I feel tired and I don’t like the food.”

“We’ll go with you.”

“No,” she said quickly. “I…I need to be alone.”

“You’re not getting soft, are you?” Angelica asked.

“No,” she lied. “Actually, I just gave Beth a picture of hell in the comfort room. That’s why I need to run. She will be furious as hell.”

Angelica laughed. Chanty snorted and said, “Okay, go now. We’ll take care of things. She goes after you, we’ll be right behind to pull her pretty black hair back.”

“And drag her down the street,” Angelica added. “I’ll do the honor.”

“Thanks. That fits the picture. I actually told her I’ll run her over with a car,” Cassandra muttered. And then she realized something. “Uh, I left my bag in Philip’s car. I need money for a cab.”

Angelica rolled her eyes but opened her purse. “I only have a few ten bucks. You better pay me back. Doctors aren’t rich, you know.”

“You’re a doctor?” she asked, shocked.

“Yes, I am. And I need money too. And I still can’t believe you’re walking off.”

“Don’t mind her,” Chanty said dismissively. “She’s got money you couldn’t count. And go. You need a break.”

Cassandra smiled at them gratefully and walked off with six ten-dollar bills from Angelica. She didn’t bother finding her husband. He could be anywhere talking and smiling with his associates. What a moron! And how many times had she called him that today anyway?

The moment she stepped out the restaurant doors, she briskly walked away. She didn’t know where she should go. And her high heels weren’t helping at all.

Where? Where are we going, Cass? She asked herself.

She looked behind her, silently hopeful that Philip would appear and run after her to stop her from leaving. Too much for wishful thinking… she sighed when she saw nothing familiar.

“I need a drink,” she muttered. Her first instinct told her to call Harrison and invite him, but she decided against it. He would think she was having trouble—which was true—and who could imagine what he’d do?

So she went alone. She needed time for herself without Philip, Beth, or Dennis to think about.

---

“Where’s Cassandra?” Philip asked his sister.

“She left,” Chanty snapped. “And we’re leaving as well.” His sister roughly brushed against him as she walked off.

Angelica stood to follow his sister but paused. “You’re a moron, Philip.”

He frowned. “What?”

“You don’t know a thing about women,” Angelica said with a shake of her head. “Your wife was nearly in tears when she left. That should be enough to tell you how ignorant you are.” Angelica rolled her eyes before she left.

Philip gaped after the woman. Didn’t she hate Cassandra? What happened?

Bethany approached him with a smile on her face. “I’m sorry, Philip. Things are a bit complicated with your wife and—”

He snapped his head at Bethany. “What did you say to her?”

Bethany stopped cold. “I did not say anything to her.”

He frowned. “I thought you said ‘the past is in the past’?”

Bethany gulped and blinked. “It is. She provoked me. What did you expect me to do? Let her humiliate me at my own party?”

His jaw tightened. He stepped away and said, “I think it’s time I leave. Send the papers I need to sign to my office by morning.”

“Philip—” Bethany started but Philip held up his hand to stop her.

“And one more thing, Beth,” he said, voice filled with warning. “Cass was driving when your brother decided to tell her they should cancel the wedding.”

Bethany looked stunned.

“Just thought you should know that because apparently you don’t,” he said, stepping away. “She lost control the same way some of us drop a glass of water after some shocking news, Bethany.” He started to leave. “My wife does not deserve anyone’s ire. I believe she suffered enough from the guilt she does not even have to feel in the first place.”

Without another glace back, Philip stormed out of the place to look for his wife.

---

Drinking helped her clear her mind and calmed her down. She was not having drinking problems. She didn’t crave for it. She just needed a drink that moment. She went to an old place she frequented before she was forced to live in a house by the woods.

Cassandra didn’t know how long she’d been gone, or what time it was, but she didn’t care. All she knew was that it was getting dark and her husband was probably searching for her—if the thought crossed his mind that his wife was missing, that is.

It was a good thing she knew the bartender on shift that day. Carlos had been successful in shoving away every man who tried to hit on her for the last couple of hours since she arrived. She gave him a grateful smile as the last man walked off with a cuss. Carlos just winked and continued with his work, his big muscled hands expertly working on some bottles.

She gulped down the rest of her beer and closed her eyes. She was not drunk, but she was tired. Tired of everything. “I really need to pull myself together. I’m in a freaking chaos,” she said to herself.

She wanted to blame everything to her dad, but she was through that. All had been said and done and she had to move on. She had to handle things on her own and she had to stand firm.

“Why did I do that?” she asked, remembering her encounter with Beth. “I shouldn’t have cared. Sure, he’s my husband, but he’s not really my husband, right?”

“Hey, Cass, you okay?” Carlos asked with concern. She didn’t notice that he was standing across her in the bar, wiping his hands with a towel.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

“You’re talking to yourself.”

“I know.”

“What’s wrong? You don’t talk to yourself when you drink.”

“It’s nothing. Give me a beer,” she ordered.

“I don’t think so. You’re alarming me right now.”

“I’m fine, Carlos. Give me a freaking beer.”

Her friend shook his head.

She glared at him. “Fine. Here,” she handed him her phone, the only thing she had on her aside from the money Angelica gave her.

“What’s this?” Karl asked, taking her phone.

“It’s my phone. You can call my husband when something goes wrong with me. He’s on my speed dial.”

“You have about ten missed calls from…” Carlos worked on her phone and continued, “Chanty and some guy Philip—” her statement must have already reached his brain because he stopped and snapped his head toward her. “Wait. You’re married?”

She held up her hand to show him her ring. “Yeah, yeah, I am. Now, give me that beer.”

“Hey, it’s ringing. It’s Philip.”

“Don’t answer that. Now, the beer?”

Carlos scratched his bald head, his face crunching up. “Fine. But I’m calling your husband if you as much as throw up.”

“Whatever,” she muttered.

---

She was halfway through her beer when Carlos walked back to her, his face frowning. “Your phone’s been ringing like crazy and I can’t work with it buzzing against my ass.”

“Then give it back,” she reached out blindly.

Being a bartender made him an expert in assessing those who were able to walk alone and those who would need a ride home. “I think I’ll give your husband a call now.”

“No, give me my phone back,” she exclaimed and almost fell off the high stool, the alcohol climbing up her brain.

“I already did,” her friend said apologetically, sliding her phone across the bar and walked off with a chuckle.

“I hate you!” she shouted at his back.

“And I love you, Cass. Just don’t get too drunk next time!” he said over his shoulder with a laugh.

Her first instinct was to walk out before her husband came, but it was too late. She already saw his familiar frame outside the door.

Without thinking, she jumped off to the floor and walked to the entrance of the bar where Carlos was working.

“Hey, Cass, you can’t enter beyond that point!” Carlos shouted, but she was already past the point and was striding toward the big bartender. “What’s wrong with you? Did you take something?”

“No,” she hissed as she hid behind him, peering through the gap between his arm and his side. Carlos was a big man and a great shield.

“What the hell are you doing?” Carlos asked, looking over his shoulder. “I’m working and I’ll be dead if my boss finds out about this.” Some customers at the bar were already staring curiously at them.

“It’s your fault,” she hissed, slapping his back. “Just stand still.”

“Are you hiding from that man?” he pointed his head toward his right. She peered through his armpit.

“Cassandra,” Philip’s voice said not far away. “What the hell are you doing?”

She pretended not to hear and pressed closer against Carlos’ broad back.

Carlos tried to shrug her away. “Cass, someone’s talking to you,” he said.

“Tell him to go away,” she said loudly. “Tell him I don’t want to see him.”

“You’re acting like a kid,” Philip said, but his voice was already beside her. She grabbed Carlos’ shirt and pulled him so he was between her and her angry husband.

“Really, people, you should get out. This bar is off limits to customers,” Karl was trying to explain.

“I’m not leaving with you,” she said, addressing her husband.

“And why is that?”

“Because I might kill you, you moron!”

“What?”

“You heard me right. I might kill you!”

Carlos suddenly freed himself from her grip—and it was an easy task—and she was left standing there facing Philip. “Okay, get out,” Karl pointed toward the entrance of the bar.

“I’m too numb to walk,” she lied.

Philip huffed in disbelief.

“That’s not a problem,” Carlos said with a smile. He placed his towel on the counter, turned toward her and swept her off her feet, carrying her out the bar and to the door.

“Hey! Put her down!” Philip ordered, following behind them.

“Okay, now, either you two leave or have a drink where you belong. Inside the bar is off limits,” Carlos told them as he placed her back on her feet. She had kept her mouth shut because she was afraid she’d throw up.

“I’m going home,” she muttered, handing the ten dollars to Carlos. “Thanks anyways.”

“No problem,” he answered and turned to Philip. “It was nice meeting you.” And he was off.

Cassandra walked out the door and out in the street without looking at her husband. Once outside, she whirled around, knowing he was behind her and punched his arm. Her fist landed on his chest. It seemed that her pent up anger toward Beth and him and everything else that happened before today was suddenly released free.

“What’s wrong with you!” he demanded, clutching his arm. His face was contorted with pain. Her punch obviously served its purpose.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you! How dare you talk to that woman when you know she hates my gut?” She couldn’t help herself and tried to kick his shin but failed.

“What the—” he jumped up and down, his left leg hanging in the air in pain. “We were discussing something!”

She strode toward him and pushed his chest. “What? What were you two discussing?” she demanded.

His eyes wavered. “Work, okay?”

“Bullshit!” she hissed and walked off, stumbling as she struggled with her heels.

“Where are you going?”

“Home!” she shouted.

He grabbed her hand and whirled her around. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Sorry about what?”

“About Beth.”

Cassandra felt a lump in her throat. She was acting stupid. She wanted to go to that party, didn’t she? She insisted on it. “You did not even realize I was gone, did you?”

“I went searching for you when I found out. I called you incessantly.”

She held up her hand to stop him and said, “I know you have a lot to worry about other than your stupid temporary wife. I understand that now. Don’t worry, I get it.” She pulled her hand from his grip, but he held on tighter. She slapped his hand with her free one, but he did not budge.

“What the hell are you talking about? You’re not making any sense,” he peered at her. “Are you jealous?”

She glared at him and punched him one more time with her free hand. “No,” that was obviously a very big lie. “I’m pissed. Your mood swings are getting in my nerves.”

He frowned, “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” He received another punch for that one. “Hey, stop that!”

“Yeah, I know, because you’re such an idiot to realize you’re unbalanced.” She pulled at her hand once more, but his grip was tight she couldn’t get free. “You act so cool taking me camping and the next thing I know, you won’t even talk to me. Then you call me up to drag me to a freaking party and I find you smiling and talking to everyone. What the hell, Philip! Are you playing games with me? Because if you are, I don’t like it.”

“No, I’m not. Okay, why don’t we go home and talk about this once you’ve calmed down? You’re drunk and you’re talking nonsense.”

“I’m going home with you, but I’m not talking,” she snapped.

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t stand you right now.”

His face went blank and his grip loosened. “Fine. Let’s go home then.”

She nodded and walked after him toward his car. Tonight, she was sleeping in her room and sleep off everything. She knew he was trying to be gentle at the moment. Were they having that big fight couples talked about?

yl+Ln

Chapter 27

Cassandra was quiet all the way home and she didn’t utter a word to him. By the time they reached home, she hastily climbed out of the car and stormed toward the house.

She must have realized she didn’t have a key. He had it and so she waited as he made his way towards the door.

“You’re acting like a child, Cassy,” he said gently as he worked with the keys. She ignored him, looking up at the sky like it was the most beautiful thing in the world. She transferred her weight from one foot to the other, anxiously showing him how giddy she was to get away from him and enter the house and lock herself in her room.

Which she immediately did the moment the door opened.

“Cassy, come on, we have to talk about this,” he called out behind her.

He sighed. “Stupid,” he cursed himself.

---

She planned to keep up with the silent war she had started the very next day. At first, Philip tried knocking on her door but to no avail until he got tired of trying or whatever that he finally stopped and was now probably busy inside his office.

Good thing though that she had some crackers inside her room and she only went out to get some water or if she really needed to take some air. But she made it sure that Philip did not see even a tiny shade of her shadow.

It was three days after that Cassandra felt like she couldn’t eat another crumb of crackers. She had been too proud to even go to the kitchen and make something.

But right now, as the moon shone outside, she was just too hungry to even care. So, carefully, surely, and quietly, she opened her door and looked across the hall to see if Philip’s room was still lit. It was not. He must be sleeping.

The heck! He could still sleep soundly knowing his wife was waging a silent war against him? Brushing that thought aside, she tiptoed her way down the stairs in bare foot and into the kitchen.

She opened the fridge and found some raw parts of a chicken.

“Chicken it is,” she murmured under her breath. Then, she set to work. She felt like a burglar breaking into someone else’s house and now she felt how they felt. Desperation and hunger must have driven people to do such ridiculous stuff, she thought.

She was absently looking at the frying chicken in the pan when her husband’s voice rang out.

“That chicken’s going to burn any moment,” he said, his voice full of amusement.

Cassandra was so proud of herself when she did not scream in shock. Maybe, unconsciously, she knew he was there all along. Turning her head at him, she stared before looking back on her current task. And yes, he was right. Her chicken was starting to burn.

Philip was standing behind the kitchen counter that separated the kitchen from the dining area, his arms resting on the dark counter. “Still not talking to me? Come on, Cassy, this is crazy.” She couldn’t remember when he started calling her Cassy but it was only then that she realized it was the closest thing to an actual endearment. Babe was just out of the question.

I’m mute, I’m mute , she reminded herself. If only she could speak to him, she had loads of snide remarks to throw at his face and it would be highly gratifying to see his reaction. But no, she was mute.

“There’s pasta in the fridge,” he said, changing the subject.

Amazing how she missed his voice. But no, she was not talking to him at all.

“I did not make it if that’s what’s keeping you from eating it,” he offered, knowing exactly what she was thinking. “Chanty made it and mom took it here earlier today. She looked for you but I said you were out.”

With that, she whirled around and went to the fridge. She saw the pasta and sauce in two separate containers. She took them and threw them inside the microwave. Ah, the power of technology.

There was laughter in Philips’ voice as he said, “I thought you’ll like it.” When she did not answer, he said, “Come on, Cassy, what are you angry about? I was just talking to Beth about something. Hey, come on,” he urged, following her with his head as she took a fork and took out the chicken from the pan. The only sound aside from his voice was the beep of the microwave and she walked toward it, took out the containers, placed them in a tray together with the chicken and started to walk out the kitchen. “Cassy, come on…” he tried again.

She was mute, she was mute…

She ignored him completely and was just outside the kitchen when she remembered she forgot to take something to drink. She went back, her husband just a meter away looking at her, went to the fridge, took out a bottle of orange juice and water and rushed out once again, back to the stairs and into her room.

He can rot in hell, she said bitterly as she attacked her food alone.

---

The next day, she received a call from Toni that she had to come to the gallery to see the final touches for her exhibit the next day. She asked her manager to pick her up and she rushed out of the house before Philip knew she was gone.

She busied herself by talking to the curator of the gallery and the men who were working on her pieces. She changed, well, almost everything they had already been doing. Toni pointed out laughingly that it was the main reason why she called because she knew she would change things.

The exhibit was themed LIFE and she wanted everything to look just like it. She wanted to make the impression that everything came out naturally and so she placed some pieces here and there in no order at all—under a chair, on a doorknob, on tables and of course, on the walls. But there was one painting that she carefully thought of and it was the one she had been painting in secret in her room.

At first, she was hesitant to even include it in the exhibit but Toni said it was amazing and that she should put it on sale. She eventually ended up hanging it at the end of the hall, far from everything else, but the very center of it all.

By the time she got back home, she was feeling exhausted.

“Where have you been?” Philip demanded, his voice painted with irritation and concern.

Yeah, like that he cares, she thought.

He was standing just at the bottom of the stairs. She walked past him without a word.

“Cass,” he grabbed her by the arm and looked into her eyes. Oh, so now she was back to just being Cass .

“I’m tired, I need to rest,” she said, her voice flat, and she shook his hand away.

He let her go and she climbed up the stairs.

“Where have you been?” he asked, following her steps.

“Not that you care,” he muttered.

“Of course I care.”

She didn’t really intend to say that out loud.

“Cass, you’re being a child here. You’ve been dragging this thing too long. We have to talk about it.” He said hastily before she reached her door. “Tomorrow’s your exhibit, right?”

She did not reply.

“I’ll be there,” he said.

“Don’t expect you to,” the bitterness in her voice was too distinct. She opened her door and locked herself in.

She couldn’t break down now. Tomorrow was her big day and she had to be full of energy.

---

She woke up with a heavy feeling and she knew why. But she brushed those negative things aside, knowing they wouldn’t help at all. When she climbed down the stairs to meet Toni who was already waiting for her outside in her car, she did not see Philip. She thought she heard him in his office, probably working.

Yeah, he’s coming alright , she said in her mind.

By the time they reached the exhibit, she was back to her own world. She became too busy to even think about her husband. People would be coming in soon and she had to make sure that everything was set. Toni was busy preparing the wines and the finger food Cassandra didn’t bother to know what.

It was nearly five when Chanty and Angelica came. They were the first ones to arrive.

“Oh my God, this is amazing,” Chanty said with awe, looking around the gallery. “I’m amazed, Cass!”

“Thank you,” she answered with a smile.

“I have to say, Cassandra, that you have a great talent,” Angelica said without a smile.

“Well, thank you Angelica,” she chuckled. She knew the lady was just merely being herself.

She toured them around.

“What’s that?” Chanty asked, pointing at the end of the hall upstairs.

Cassandra almost shut her eyes closed. She shouldn’t have put up that painting.

“Oh my God, Cass! Is it Willie?” Chanty cried out when they reached the painting.

“Yes,” she answered. She had chosen to paint the picture she took of Willie and Philip sleeping with the baby sprawled on his chest. It was that time they babysat for Chanty.

“And Philip,” Angelica said, recognizing her husband.

“This is mine,” Chanty said. “I’m buying this!”

“Philip looks even hotter in that painting,” Angelica whistled. “Didn’t know he can be hot even when sleeping.”

“Hey, stop staring at my husband. Your mouth’s watering,” Cassandra playfully pushed her.

“Oh, I need a drink,” Angelica fanned her face with her hand in exaggeration. “Where’s the drink?” Angelica asked.

Cassandra chuckled. “It’s with Toni. Toni!” she called out and said, “can you assist these ladies with some drinks?” She saw some people coming in and she wanted to greet them.

“Cass, this is mine! Remember!” Chanty called out behind her.

“Yes, yes, but you have to pay for it. And I sell it per square inch!”

“Deal!”

Moments later, the exhibit was full. There were her constant buyers, and there were those who were first timers. From time to time, her head would snap around to check if there was any sign of Philip. It was when the clock struck seven that she was sure he was not coming.

“Where’s Philip?” Hope asked her. Yes, his family was present along with hers.

“I don’t know, maybe he’s stuck in traffic.”

“That boy ought to know how to prioritize,” William said, shaking his head.

“Cass! Cass!” Chanty was running toward her, her face full of alarm.

“What?”

“Someone’s stealing my painting!”

“What?”

“Someone’s stealing it!”

“Okay, calm down, Chanty, what are you talking about?”

“It’s that painting,” Angelica said dryly behind her friend. “Some guy is looking at it and talked about buying it. Lucky she didn’t claw on his face. Chanty, you’re being overly dramatic.”

“But that painting’s mine! Cass, you have to tell them that painting’s mine!”

“Okay, okay” she said, excusing herself from her family.

“Honey, don’t be such a child,” Mary called out after her daughter. Chanty was in panic to listen to her mother as she literally dragged Cassandra toward the painting, leaving Angelica and their family behind.

Well, she and Angelica were right. There were two men standing in front of the painting, deep in discussion. And she knew one of them.

“Mr. Staton,” she said behind the old man.

The bearded black American man turned around at her voice and beamed. “Cassandra, dear, amazing exhibit as always,” he said, taking her hand for a kiss.

“Thank you,” she said and winced when Chanty pinched her side and nudged her.

“This is my friend Mr. Miller,” Mr. Staton said, indicating his hand toward his younger companion.

“Pleased to finally meet the artist,” the younger man said with admiration in his eyes. “I personally like this painting,” he said, looking back at the painting behind them.

Cassandra winced once again as Chanty pinched her one more time.

“Amazing shadows,” Mr. Staton agreed, nodding his head. “I think I will take this one, my dear.”

“It’s already sold, Mr. Staton,” she uttered, her voice sorry. “I guess Toni is about to tag it as such any moment now.”

“Yes, it is sold,” Chanty seconded, “to me.”

Both gentlemen looked at her.

“It’s my baby and my brother in that painting,” she said.

“Oh, this is my sister-in-law, Chanty Strindberg,” Cassandra introduced them when she saw the confusion on both men’s eyes.

“Strindberg? You can’t mean…” Mr. Staton looked back at the painting. “Are you telling me that’s Philip Strindberg?”

“Yes, I believe that’s me, Aaron,” another voice behind them said. Cassandra froze. It felt too familiar not to recognize.

“My boy!” Mr. Staton said with a smile. “So this is your sister,” he pointed at Chanty who nodded vigorously and then he looked at Cassandra, his face lighting up with understanding. “You didn’t tell me you are married to this man, my dear!”

“It was just recently—”

“I think I told you I just recently got married, Aaron,” Philip said with a chuckle.

“I didn’t recognize you in that painting,” Mr. Miller said beside the old man.

“Hank,” Philip said, acknowledging the man’s presence.

“Yes, I didn’t recognize you in that one Philip,” Aaron said.

“I guess my wife just have amazing talent with shadows that my face was almost hidden,” he explained.

Cassandra’s face flushed. She had not uttered a word. Just a smile here and there every time the two gentlemen happened to look at her.

“Well, now that’s settled and we all know that the painting is no longer available,” Chanty said, clasping her hands together, “why don’t I offer you gentlemen some drinks?”

“That will be lovely,” Aaron said, taking Chanty’s hand to hook it in his arm. “Lead the way, child. Now, I believe we should meet soon. I do have a proposal for Strindberg Enterprises…”

“Would you like to join us?” Hank asked Philip who was still standing behind Cassandra.

“No, I think I’ll pass. I still have to congratulate my wife for this amazing exhibit,” her husband answered and Hank left after giving Cassandra a smile.

Now, left alone with her husband, she didn’t know what to do.

“I didn’t know you painted that one,” he said beside her.

Cassandra did not look up at him but whirled around to go. Anywhere but away from him would do. She was not that angry anymore. But she was just in some kind of panic. He came! Shoot, he actually came!

“Cassy, where are you going?” his voice was full of warning. Okay, she was back to being Cassy . Really, he should make up his mind how to call her!

“I have to attend to my guests,” she said.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, holding her by the shoulder. He turned her around to face him. She did not look up, her eyes locked on his tie.

“I have to go, Philip. I don’t want to talk right now.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I was just talking to Bethany and—”

“Okay, okay, whatever,” she cut him off.

“Hey,” he caught her by the arm when she turned away. “Look,” he said, his hand going inside his jacket pocket. When it came out, he was holding a piece of paper. He handed it to her and said, “It’s a gift.”

“What’s this?” she asked curiously.

“A star,” he said, beaming sheepishly.

“What do you mean?”

“Just look at it, babe,” he urged.

With her eyes at him, she opened the paper and finally looked down.

She frowned. “What’s this?”

Her husband sighed above her. “Just as I thought,” he muttered and said loudly, “Well, last week, I’ve been busy looking for some ways to give you a gift for your birthday. I thought naming a star after you will be great so I checked the net. Then I found those scamming sites and decided against it. So,” he looked at her with laughter in his eyes, “I called some people who called some people and finally, I was able to talk to some guys at the International Astronomical Union and got a star named after you and it’s legit, babe,” he finished with a proud grin.

“What?” she couldn’t believe her ears. She looked down at the paper once more and finally understood what it meant. It was a letter from the International Astronomical Union, informing her that they had named a star after her with the same coordinates as the letters of her name. “How—”

“You don’t want to know how I negotiated my way to get that,” he interjected her question. “So, what do you think? You like it?”

“You’re not kidding, are you?” she asked just to be sure.

“Of course not. So, you like it?”

“Like it? I love it!” she said and jumped up to wrap her arms around his neck.

Pure happiness enveloped her as her husband caught her lips in his and for a moment there, they were lost. Hell, who wouldn’t when you knew that the freaking IAU itself named a star after you?

ied back uMQs

Chapter 28

“How the hell do you do this thing?” Cassandra asked, looking at the paper through the light the back porch offered. Her exhibit had been a success but she was more than happy and eager to go back home with Philip who said they could locate the star with a telescope. And that was what they were doing now, and she was having trouble with the coordinates.

“Let me do that,” Philip snatched the paper from her. “For someone who loves stars, you should know this,” he added.

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “I don’t have to learn that thing when I was looking at all the stars randomly. This coordinate thing is killing me.”

“Uh-huh,” Philip was already working on the telescope and did not hear her. “I think I found it,” he said a while later.

“You think?”

He turned his head and looked at her. “Let me rephrase that. I believe I found it.”

“Pretty much the same thing,” she nudged him aside. “Let me see.”

With a chuckle, he stepped aside and let her peek through the telescope. Cassandra smiled when she saw it. Well, what do she expect? It still looked like a star, but knowing it was named after her was awesome. And the fact it was the International Astronomical Union itself that did it was a plus.

“I hope you’re happy,” Philip uttered. “You have a star of your own.”

“I still can’t believe you actually did this,” she said, straightening up. “It really blew me away, you know.”

He kissed her and said, “I was hoping that would be the effect.”

“Thank you,” she said with feeling. Her heart was swelling with so many emotions that she couldn’t help but hug him tight. “It was not just about Beth.”

He sighed. “I know.”

They stood there like that for a long time, both silent and both having a silent conversation.

“Will you ever get to the point of telling me why we are married?” she suddenly blurted out. “I am not asking you to tell me about the deadly secret you and my father are keeping. You married me to help him with something and maybe save yourself from whatever trouble it is, I get that. But you’re a businessman. You won’t do such a thing to someone you barely know and since you are not someone who has a great personal attachment to everyone around him, I am certain you married me because you get something out of it as well. I know your family wants you to get settled and all, but that’s just not reason enough. And don’t tell me it is because I know there’s a real reason.”

He was silent for a long time and she almost could not believe it that he did not dare interrupt her monologue a few seconds ago. She waited patiently for his answer. He sighed and asked, “Are you familiar with Astor Industries?”

She frowned. “The food enterprise?”

He nodded. “I’ve been trying to buy stocks years ago but they won’t budge. You know why?”

Cassandra snorted. “Don’t tell me they want someone with a wife.”

“Pretty close to that, yes,” he chuckled. “They pride themselves as a family-oriented enterprise and Mr. Astor wants his board members to be family-oriented. They are among the very few corporate people I know who are treated as celebrities, you know. Everything they do is being watched.”

Cassandra’s mouth fell open. She pushed away from him to look at his face to see if he was joking. “You’re not joking.”

He shook his head. “I’m serious. Mr. Astor has a son. Are you familiar with Zachary Astor?”

“I think I saw him on TV, yes.”

“Exactly. He’s not an actor or an artist. He was just born into a famous, wealthy family and all eyes are on him. And he doesn’t make a lot of effort to please his father. And though the man has wanted to hand everything to him, he just wouldn’t budge. His priorities are on different matters entirely. I think Mr. Astor knows how it is when people in his board are… let’s just say bachelors. All eyes are on them and if things get ugly, the public will know and their products will suffer. In a weird way, consumer minds work like that. There was actually an article written why Astor Industries is adamant on its members being family oriented. It’s crazy as hell, I know, but then, there are other companies with a lot of weird rules. At first, I rejected the idea of having a family until I found out my board members are trying to think about voting me out.”

“They can’t do that, can they? You’re the owner of the company!”

“I own pretty much of the company, but I’m not the sole owner,” he pointed out. “The company’s having trouble with competitors like Astor Industries and merging the business with them will solve it.”

“So you were forced to find a wife.”

He smiled. “No, not really, but I did not refuse it when it was presented to me. Your father offered me the solution because of this thing we stumbled upon together. My family, unknowingly to them, kind of made me even more desperate. It’s a win-win for me and your father.”

“And you’ve been planning it a long time ago,” she sighed. “Philip Strindberg style,” she shook her head. “So, I’m assuming you already merged with Astor Industries?”

He nodded. “The day after we got back from the Philippines.”

She was wondering why his reason didn’t bother her at all. Well, maybe it was the thought from the back of her mind that knew about Philip having another reason. What she didn’t understand though was how he would explain to his new associates about their divorce. She didn’t want to ruin the mood of the evening so she rejected the idea of asking him. It would be his problem in the end, right?

---

Hours later, she was lying in bed wrapped in his arms with the same feeling of contentment she always felt every time they were like that.

Through the darkness of the room, she peered through her husband’s sleeping form and smiled. She couldn’t get over his gift. It was great and thoughtful and sweet. She hadn’t—not in her wildest dreams—imagined that he would do something like that.

All the while she thought he was getting distant because of some reasons. She thought those calls he’d been making were just all for his business..

Chanty and Angelica were stunned when they knew about the star. Everyone was, actually, including Harrison. Yes, of course she told Chanty who told almost everyone. That was how the talk of the star spread through the crowd in the exhibit.

I don’t think I would want to leave when the time comes, she thought to herself as she traced her husband’s face with her fingers. Her life had always been full of surprises, but they were mostly brought about by her. And when she was with Dennis, it was always predictable. She knew his every move, his every thought, and his secrets. But with Philip, she was always at a loss, and always at a big surprise with the things he did. He never failed to make her do the extremes—good or bad—and she was starting to get used to it.

---

The next day, it felt like the tight knot between them came loose and finally both of them could breathe more freely. And it also meant she had to go back to her chores.

But Cassandra always found a way through.

It was her birthday! And she made it sure to remind him.

“Didn’t I greet you this morning?” Shit, she forgot about that. “And I already gave you your gift, right? Do you want anything else? I thought you don’t like parties, but if you want—”

“No, it’s not that. I’m going out to meet Chanty.” For a moment she wondered where her other friends were? Ah, of course, they were not part of this transient life.

“You’re just going because it’s your day to do chores, are you?” her husband said, the suspicious tone gone. He knew her too well to know what she was thinking that she even wondered if he knew about that one time she pretended she was sick.

“Of course not!” she denied anyway. “Chanty and Angelica are waiting for me. Willie’s party is the day after tomorrow in case you forgot?”

Philip looked at her for a long time before he stood up and declared, “Then I’m going with you.”

“You can’t contribute anything to what we are going to do,” she stopped him by planting her palms on his chest.

“I don’t have anything to do today, so I’m going. I can watch over Willie.” He did not let her say another word and walked out the kitchen.

“You’re just going to watch over me, I know that!” She shouted after him.

“That one too!” He shouted back.

“I can’t believe it,” she sighed. She already missed their silent war. During that time, she was free to do whatever she wanted without worrying he’d come after her or tag along like a dog. Now he was back to being her personal shadow.

---

Actually, no one knew it was her birthday and she made her husband promise not tell Chanty. She was going to help with Willie’s party and not be greeted just because she was born more than two decades ago anyway.

“Don’t tell me you’re still fighting with Philip,” Chanty whispered half an hour later. They were at her sister-in-law’s house and her husband went directly toward Willie the moment they arrived.

“Of course not. What made you think that?” she asked.

“I saw that you rode at the back.”

Bummer. She forgot to transfer.

“Oh, that…” she winced. “I have this fear of riding shotgun. But you can’t tell anyone. It’s only you and Philip who knows about it.”

“Really? That’s weird, Cass.”

“I know. Long story,” she retorted, brushing the topic aside with a wave of her hand and asked, “Where’s Angelica?”

“I don’t know. I can’t contact her. Lately, she has been acting really weird. She’s always late and she’s never late.”

“Especially when Philip is coming,” she added with a laugh.

“Yeah, you’re right about that one too,” Chanty chuckled.

They joined Philip and Willie until Angelica arrived sweating and far from her usual glamour.

“What the hell happened to you?” Chanty demanded.

“Don’t ask. It’s confidential,” Angelica said, tying her red hair in a bun and wiping her face with a towel. She had dirt all over her and she smelled quite unpleasant. It was not like her at all.

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

“Go have a shower, will you?” Cassandra told her, covering her nose. “You really stink.”

“Ugh, don’t mention it, I know,” she went to the direction of Chanty’s room. “Oh, hi there, Philip,” she waved and disappeared behind the door.

“What happened to her?” Philip asked from across the room.

“Don’t ask, we don’t know,” Chanty sighed. “Hey, Ange! Don’t use my soap!”

---

After Angelica spent almost an hour in the bathroom, they went on planning Willie’s party. Since they were done with the most important details, they did not really do anything more except calling a lot of people about the food and the balloons and some bubble-maker machines. Angelica literally slept through half the time, but she was obviously exhausted so they left her alone.

Philip kept himself busy with Willie, taking him out the lawn and even went out for a drive to buy some snacks for the ladies.

They left before dinner after pumping the balloons that were delivered that day. They would come back early the day after tomorrow so they could help with the set-up.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Cassandra told him as they drove back home.

“I wanted to be with you,” he countered.

She scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

He just chuckled.

Is that true?

She wondered. “Where are we going?” she asked when she noticed that he was taking a different direction.

“We’re going on a date.”

“Date?”

He nodded. “Movie and popcorns kind of date,” he said.

“Really? Is it because it’s my birthday?”

“Yes, and no,” he said smiling.

“What are we watching?” She was excited all of a sudden.

“What do you want to see?”

“Everything,” she declared.

“Everything? I haven’t heard that movie.”

“You’ll like it,” she beamed.

When they arrived at the cinema, she went to get their tickets while Philip immediately went through the list. He was frowning when she came back and he said, “I don’t see Everything here…”

Cassandra laughed out loud. “Babe, can you get any more gullible?”

“Then what did you really mean?”

“When I said everything,” she held up her hand holding the tickets, “I meant every movie.”

“You must be kidding,” he said in disbelief.

“Of course I’m not,” she snapped. “Now, let’s see what’s next. Okay, Pirates of the Caribbean will be first, then we’ll transfer to The Priest, and then we’ll see X-Men, and finally Kung Fu Panda.”

“You want to watch Kung Fu Panda?”

“Of course. It’s funny.” She took his hand and dragged him to the popcorn stand. “You buy the popcorn and the drinks.”

Philip sighed and grabbed for his wallet, muttering under his breath.

“What are you whining about? I thought you wanted to go on a date?”

“I can’t watch four movies in a row. My eyes can’t handle that much stress.”

“We can watch them the next day, okay? We’ll just watch two for tonight.”

“Deal,” he said quickly.

---

It was nearly midnight when they finally went out the cinema and Philip was obviously drained. He was babysitting Willie and it was not that easy and then he watched two movies in a row, the last one he did not enjoy as much as she did.

By the time they arrived home, he was asleep the moment he hit the bed.

“Hey, Philip, aren’t you going to change?” she nudged him.

“Hmm…” he said from the pillows.

Cassandra sighed and climbed out of bed to circle to his side. She stripped him of his clothes, only leaving him with his boxers, and went back to her side of the bed.

His arms went around her naturally the moment he felt her beside him. Cassandra smiled and smelled his bare chest, wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing closer. A simple gesture but she liked it.

Shit, just another thing she’d miss.

---

The next day, she spent it prodding him to go back to the cinema and finish those movies.

“Come on, I bought those tickets myself. Do you get it? I bought them,” she shook his arm.

He choked on his sandwich. “Babe, I’m still having headaches from last night.”

“It was your idea in the first place.”

“I said, movie—not movies,” he pointed out.

“But I paid for those movies and you promised that—”

“I’ll pay you back.”

“But I want to watch them and—”

“I’ll download them for you.”

“I want to see them on the big screen and you can’t tell me you’re going to buy a projector and a white screen.” She narrowed her eyes at him and folded her arms across her chest. When he did not answer, she cried in exasperation and stomped out of the kitchen. “Fine! I’ll watch it with Harrison!”

That did the trick.

She secretly smiled when she heard his chair screech back and his footsteps came near. “Not gonna happen,” he said, walking past her.

“Where are you going?”

“Getting my jacket,” he snapped, throwing the last piece of his sandwich into his mouth.

“I’ll be waiting!” she called after him with a grin and it wavered when he disappeared from sight.

She would miss all of this.

---

Cassandra tapped her foot on the carpet floor. “Today’s Willie’s party. I need to be there to help Chanty,” she urged. When he did not respond, she started to pull at the comforter.

“Five minutes,” he groaned, pulling back the comforter.

“You have to wake up now or I’ll leave without you.”

“How did you wake up so early anyway?” he complained as he tried to push himself away from the bed with a grunt.

She smiled. “I’m excited for this party.”

“You don’t like parties,” he sat up in bed with squinted eyes, his hair tousled.

“This one I like. It’s for Willie.” She took his hand and pulled him to his feet. “Go get dressed. I’ll wait for you outside.”

They arrived just in time to help Chanty set up the balloons and meet the caterers for the food. The lawn was filled with so many colors. There are tiny bubbles floating in the air, the weather was great, and it looked like Willie was enjoying his upcoming party because he was smiling and chuckling at everything—especially the bubbles.

“Where’s Angelica?” Cassandra asked, painting Chanty’s face.

Chanty rolled her eyes. “Don’t ask. For all I know, she’s in the hospital or with that guy she’s dating.”

“She’s dating someone?”

“Uh-huh,” Chanty’s lips pouted, “But they really look weird together.”

Cassandra frowned. “How come?”

“I don’t know. And I’m not judging the guy. I only met him once in passing while they were at the mall. But he’s… I don’t know, mysterious? I did not see his face because it was a very quick meeting. And that’s weird, right? He just walked off before I reached Ange. Really, the guy’s just not her type. She likes men in suit like Philip, and he’s… how do I put it? He’s a jacket guy in boots. He looked rugged for Ange’s taste it’s surprising that she’s even dating him.”

“Maybe she chose a different direction. Is this the guy she was talking about the last time?”

“I don’t have any idea. And she’s not talking about it either it’s really weird. She tells me everything. Even when she was after Philip, she told me every single step she was taking to get him.”

“Hmmm… yeah, that’s weird.”

“But let’s not talk about that. She’s just probably trying a different variety if you know what I mean.”

“Maybe,” Cassandra agreed and placed down the brush. “Okay, we’re done.”

Chanty took a mirror and checked out the left side of her cheek. “Oh, it’s beautiful, Cass. Thank you.” A teal butterfly with glittering dots around it moved with her cheeks as she spoke.

“You’re welcome. Now, I think it’s my turn.”

“I’ll do it for you,” Philip announced, walking near them with Willie in his arms.

“I doubt I’ll like the outcome, babe,” Cassandra told him.

“This is not art school. It’s a party,” he reminded her.

“Fine,” she sat on a stool Chanty vacated. Her husband handed Willie back to his sister and reached for a brush.

Cassandra stopped his hand just as he was about to start painting. “What?” he laughingly asked.

She stared at him seriously. “Don’t you dare make pranks, Philip.”

“I won’t,” he chuckled, brushing her hand away. “Just hold still.”

Cassandra’s face was cringing as she felt the tip of the brush touch her face.

He drew a star much to Cassandra’s relief.

By the time the party started, they got really busy. People started arriving with little kids, most of them from the same park Chanty usually took Willie for a walk. Others were friends Cassandra only met for the first time aside from Angelica who arrived rather late once again. Their family was there as well and enjoyed having face paints on their faces that Cassandra had no time to eat if not for Philip who gave her food every now and then.

He also bragged about painting her face and even offered to help her paint, but not a soul came near him.

“You go join some games, babe. I can’t take your incoherent mutterings right now,” she told him while painting William’s face with a skull upon his request.

The old man laughed. “Listen to your wife, Philip.”

She saw her husband turn and walk to where Willie was with Chanty, watching some kids playing games.

Cassandra joined him after she was finally done with all the faces of the guests.

“We’re joining a sack race,” he informed as she sat beside him, resting her hand on his shoulder. He circled his arm around her to hold her close.

“What sack race?” she asked.

“Some game Chanty thought about for the big guys.”

“I’m in, of course. But I’m a lousy loser so you better do your best,” she warned.

“I always do my best,” he bragged, kissing her nose.

---

“Jump faster, babe! What the hell are you doing?” His wife was shouting an hour later, jumping with squinted eyes against the sun as Philip tried to catch up with the rest of the players, his body too big for the sack. “You can’t lose, remember!”

“I’m trying!” he shouted back, gritting his teeth.

They were playing a relay and she was up next. Their team was losing because of him. It was because of the blasted sack!

Philip felt a large presence behind him as he struggled to leap across the lawn, the voices of cheering children and adults alike ringing in his ears.

“Watch out!” Cassandra shouted but it was already too late. Whoever was behind him lost his balance and crashed against Philip. “Philip!” he heard Cassandra cry out and saw her run before his face hit the ground.

Philip could hardly breathe, nor could he feel anything else but the very heavy weight upon him. “Get off him!” Cassandra was crying out, kicking the struggling guy over him and sent him rolling away, sack and all.

“Oh my God! Philip!” Philip heard Chanty shout.

His eyes were closed. Something was definitely painful but he could not point out where.

“Let me through, don’t touch him!” Angelica was shouting through the growing crowd around them.

“Angelica!” was Cassandra’s helpless cry. “Philip?” she tried to call out and sighed in relief when he opened his eyes.

Shit, he could hardly feel his own body.

“Move aside, people! What the hell! Are you doctors! Go call an ambulance!” Angelica shouted as she knelt beside Cassandra who was crying. Why was his wife crying? He was fine. Except for the pain. And he couldn’t move. Not yet anyway. “Good. He’s conscious,” Angelica said.

“Is that good?” Cassandra stupidly asked.

“Yes, and keep him awake,” Angelica said, assessing Philip’s limbs. “Where’s the ambulance!”

“I’m fine,” Philip managed with a grunt and a puff. “Ow!” he shouted as Angelica reached his left foot.

“You dislocated your left foot,” Angelica told him.

“Oh my God, get him to the hospital, please!” Mary said with tears in her eyes.

No need to be dramatic , he wanted to say but his jaw was tight because of the pain.

Angelica looked at Cassandra, “He needs to go to the hospital.”

“Just drive him to the hospital, dear!” Hope said with fear.

“Yes, yes, of course!” Cassandra stood up with shaky feet.

“No, no,” Philip tried to argue faintly. “She can’t…” but no one seemed to be listening.

“Where’s your car?” Angelica asked Cassandra.

His wife pointed at his car. Angelica took his keys from his pocket and threw it at her then asked someone’s help to carry Philip to the car.

Angelica and some guy placed Philip at the passenger side, pushing the seat back to its fullest so he was almost lying down.

Cassandra willed herself to get in the driver’s side, fighting her shaking hands.

“Cass, I can wait for the ambulance,” Philip tried again but no one was listening.

“Be careful. And don’t let him fall asleep. I still have to look after the other guy. We’ll follow after you,” Angelica said before Cassandra placed the car in gear.

“Okay, okay!” She shouted, nodding her head held on to the steering wheel.

And then they were off, running down the street.

Philip was groaned in pain. Shit! Okay, maybe he needed to go to the hospital now.

Cassandra peered through the windshield and said, “Stop groaning, I can’t concentrate…”

“You can’t drive,” he said through gritted teeth.

When his words finally registered, she stiffened. “Oh my God! I—I’m driving!”

Realizing it was a big mistake to remind her of that, Philip said, “Hey, it’s okay…”

“Oh my God!” He saw a different kind of fear appear on her face.

Shit.

---

What if she got into an accident again? What if Philip got worse? What if she lost control once more?

She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe, and her vision was starting to blur.

“Cassy, Cass… listen, babe… get me to a freaking hospital now!” She barely heard Philip’s voice.

Stop thinking about that stupid accident and save him, a voice whispered to her.

She gulped and nodded. Yes, drive. Just drive.

“Babe, hang in there and let’s go. My foot is killing me,” Philip rasped, his eyes closed in pain.

“Yes,” she whispered, nodding her head. “Hospital…yes, let’s go drive to the hospital.”

“Just be careful,” he said, his voice trailing off.

“Philip? Hey, Philip,” she called out, but not a sound came from him.

“Shit!” she cursed, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. She had to drive alone to the hospital with her unconscious husband.

“God, help me…” she uttered, gripping the steering wheel tightly, focusing her eyes on the road.

itA:o

Chapter 29

“Hang in there, babe,” Cassandra whispered faintly as she maneuvered the car to the Emergency driveway of the hospital. Her limbs were about to give up, but she urged her hand and pushed the horn to catch everyone’s attention outside and stopped the car with shaky legs just when two nurses and a doctor ran out. “Help! Please! My husband’s hurt!”

Everything went so fast she barely saw it. Someone asked him about Philip’s name and age. Aside from that, she couldn’t remember anything else. One moment she was crying as she looked at Philip’s unconscious form and the next moment she was left alone in the car as the nurses and the doctor wheeled him inside the ER. She started to get out, but a security guy stopped her.

“You have to park your car first, ma’am.”

“My husband’s alone in there and you want me to park my freaking car?” she shouted hysterically.

“This is a driveway for the Emergency Room, lady. And you’re not the only one who has to use it,” the guy said in a straight face. He must get a lot of yelling every day.

“Fine!” she got back inside and zoomed toward the parking lot. She bumped a headlight against a post light but she didn’t care. She had to get to where Philip was.

She ran back to the ER, throwing the security guy a glare, and entered the doors. She felt lost with everything going on. Nurses and doctors alike were running around, doing whatever they were doing.

“Can I help you?” A lady behind the counter her asked.

“Yes, I’m looking for my husband. Philip Strindberg. They just wheeled him in.”

“The one with the twisted ankle?”

“Yes! He was unconscious. I want to see him right now.”

“There are nurses and doctors taking care of him right now, you don’t have to worry. Please stay at this area,” the lady pointed at the group of chairs lined up just beside the counter.

Cassandra shook her head. “No, no. I want to see him right now!”

The lady sighed. “You have to wait while your husband is being taken care of.”

She did not wait for another invitation to sit on a freaking chair because that would not happen. Instead, she turned around and walked down the large hall with curtains at the sides that separated the beds.

“Hey, ma’am!” The lady tried to call out, but she did not listen. She was already busy peering through every curtain, looking for her husband.

“Philip!” She shouted, gaining the attention of some staff.

“Ma’am, you have to stay back at the reception. This area is strictly for staff and patients only.”

“Then consider me a patient!” she said irritably.

The lady looked at her with patience. “If you want your husband treated, you have to let us do our job. Please stay right there,” she pointed at the chairs.

Cassandra pursed her lips and stomped right back to the blue chairs.

“Thank you,” the lady said and got busy.

She started tapping the floor with her foot. Her hands were getting restless. The shakiness from driving for the first time in two years was already gone, but the fear was still there. It was just a freaking foot, how could he have fainted? What if he hit his head? What if he… Shit, I’m going ahead of myself. And where the hell is Angelica and the others!

“Mrs. Strindberg?” a doctor asked after almost half an hour.

She immediately jumped to her feet. “Yes. Where is he? How is he doing?”

“He’s fine. He’s still unconscious, but there’s no more danger. We have to keep him confined until he gains consciousness.”

“Is… Is he in a coma?” Okay, that was a stupid question, but who could blame her? She had an ex-boyfriend who was in one.

“No.” the doctor’s lips twitched, probably hiding a smile. “He’s not. He’s merely unconscious because of the anesthetic we gave him for the pain. He got his ankle dislocated real bad. He must have twisted his ankle before he fell.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

“We did an x-ray and it seems that we need to do an ORIF.”

“Which planet are you in? I don’t know what the hell that means.”

“It’s Open Reduction and Internal Fixation. I am concerned because the ligaments are affected.”

“Elaborate further, please,” she said stonily.

“We have to do an operation so we can fix the torn and pressed ligaments and to make sure that his bones are intact. We can’t manually fix it from the outside so we need to open up.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“We need your consent.”

“Yes, yes, you got it.”

“Thank you,” he said and turned around. A nurse was standing beside her with a paper to sign. She was about to sign but stopped.

“Doctor,” she called.

“Yes?” the young doctor turned around with a questioning look.

“You better fix him right or I’ll have your neck,” she said strongly.

He smiled and nodded. “Don’t worry, we do this a lot.”

“Good.”

---

Someone told her Philip had been wheeled to the OR and that she could wait for him outside. She did with so much worry and anxiety.

What’s taking them so long? She asked herself a lot of times. She had been pacing back and forth along the hallway, biting her nails. The last time she was in an accident, she was unconscious so she didn’t really have to suffer the agony of waiting. She just freaking woke up and found out her ex-boyfriend was in a coma.

Chanty and the others called to let her know that their parents were at home upon Angelica’s insistence that they should calm down. Her sister-in-law was downstairs taking care of the papers needed. Angelica went missing after informing she had an emergency at the hospital herself. In short, everyone was busy and she was alone to wait for the doctors to come out the doors and to tell her Philip would be alright.

God, I can’t take this if…

She shook her head. He should be alright. He’s strong and arrogant to welcome death too soon. He’s got to be alright.

Cassandra sat back down to breathe.

I should have known he’s lousy at sack race…

The doors suddenly burst open. Cassandra snapped her head and saw the doctor approach her. She went to her feet and met him halfway.

“What?” was all she could ask at that time.

“He’s fine. He’s all good. But his foot would need a long time to heal. We’ll wheel him to his room. Another doctor should come by later to discuss therapy among other things.”

Actually, she did not hear the rest of his words after the word good . She was too overwhelmed and relieved to think about any further question. The only important thing for her was that her husband was alive. “Is he conscious?”

“He’s in recovery and resting. But he woke up just a minute ago,” the doctor informed her. “Ms. Strindberg—”

“Mrs. Strindberg,” she corrected.

“Mrs. Strindberg, I suggest that you wait for him in his room. You know where it is?”

“Yes, yes, I know where it is,” she answered, already on her way. She stopped, turned around and looked at the curious doctor.

But before she could utter her question, he shook his head and said, “No, you can’t get inside the recovery room. But he’s going out any minute now.”

“Fine,” she whispered and continued on her tracks. She called Chanty as she made her way to Philip’s room.

“Cass, what happened? Is it over?”

“Yes, and he’s fine. He’s still in recovery, but they’re wheeling him in any moment now.”

“Oh my God, that’s great. Do you need anything? I’m almost done here. Do you need your clothes? I need to go back home and check on Willie. I could go back to bring you clothes and something to eat.”

“That would be great, thank you.”

“Okay. I got to go. I need to call mom.”

“Okay, bye,” she said and clicked off.

Minutes later, she was already inside her husband’s hospital room waiting and jumped to her feet when her husband arrived wheeled by two nurses.

“Philip,” she said anxiously as the nurses transferred him to his bed. She saw him open his eyes and she felt her tears drop from her eyes. He’s okay. He’s fine. He’s alive.

“Mrs. Strindberg, we’ll leave him to rest for now,” the nurse said. “I’ll be back later to check on him,” then she turned to Philip and said, “Mr. Strindberg, if you ever feel you need something for the pain, you just punch this button right here, okay?”

Philip nodded slowly, obviously still high with the drugs.

“I’ll leave you with him,” the nurse said to Cassandra and left.

“Hey,” Cassandra was smiling as she took her husband’s hand. She felt him squeeze it and she squeezed back gently. She brushed his brown hair back, looking at his face. “How do you feel?”

“High,” he whispered huskily with a smile.

“Jerk,” she chuckled. “You should rest. Sleep. We’ll talk later, okay?”

“I looked for you. Where have you been?” he asked, already closing his eyes.

“I was outside. They will not let me in.”

“I looked for you when I woke up.”

She smiled and brushed his brown hair off his forehead. She leaned over and kissed his lips. Sliding a chair next to the bed, she watched him sleep.

---

“Cass, hey, wake up…”

His wife stirred but did not wake up. Philip nudged her once more.

“What?” she asked sleepily.

“Get off the bed,” Philip said.

“What?” she asked, sounding confused.

“It’s a hospital bed and it’s supposed to carry only one patient. Get off.” He nudged her once more.

“Oh my God,” she shot out of bed.

“Hey! Watch it!” She had dragged the blanket along with her.

“I’m sorry!”

“How did you end up beside me anyway?” he asked with amusement.

“I don’t have any idea,” she answered truthfully.

“I didn’t know you sleepwalk.”

“I don’t.”

“Then you must have,” he chuckled.

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better, I guess.” He felt utterly fine, a complete contrast from yesterday. Except his foot which was still in traction, Philip felt he was ready to go home.

“No pain?”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course there’s pain. I had a surgery.”

“Yeah, you really scared me,” she said, voice slightly shaking.

He gave her a teasing smile. “You drove.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“How’s my car?”

Her mouth fell open and she winced.

“Cass, what did you do to the car?”

“I’ll pay for it, don’t worry,” she said as if it was not important.

“What happened?”

“I think I bumped against the post light but no big damage, I swear. The headlight can be replaced.”

“Were you hurt?”

“As you can see, I am not,” she answered proudly.

Philip scoffed. “Congratulations.”

“Yeah, we should celebrate. I finally got to drive, thanks to you,” she said sarcastically. “Hey, what do you think are you doing?” she placed a hand over his chest to stop him when he pushed away from the bed.

“I want to get up,” he answered.

“No, we are not told you could do that. Stay in bed. You got traction.” She pushed him gently to lie back.

He grabbed her hand and held it in place over his chest as he closed his eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he whispered. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Good,” she smiled. “Now, you have to rest.”

---

The flowers bombarded Philip’s room the next day and Cassandra was happy to welcome them, but when the very person she didn’t want to see came for a visit, she was trying her might not to burst out in anger.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded as soon as Beth came in.

“I’m here to see Philip,” her enemy, slash ex-soon-to-be-sister-in-law, answered with a haughty look.

“In that case, you only have five minutes.” She looked at her watch for emphasis. How many times did Sheena and Beth do the same thing to her in the past?

“You’re timing me?”

“Yes, and now you just wasted thirty seconds of your time.”

“Unbelievable,” Beth muttered and walked toward Philip.

“He’s sleeping. Don’t wake him up.”

“Shut up,” Beth gritted.

“Four minutes more, Beth, don’t waste it.” She was impatiently tapping her foot on the floor with arms folded in front of her.

Their voices must have roused her husband because she heard him say, “Beth?”

“Hi, Philip,” Beth’s voice took a sudden change of tone from anger to purring. Gross. Angelica was right. She was better at it than this woman. “How are you feeling?”

“Doing great.”

Cassandra lightly tapped her watch to silently remind Beth of the time.

“I brought you fruits,” Beth said, ignoring her.

“Thanks,” her husband answered, and then his eyes traveled to hers. She knew he was concerned about the situation.

But the situation would be under control because that very same moment, Cassandra saw through the glass walls the two ladies that wouldn’t care to make a scene: Chanty and Angelica.

Their faces were horrified when they saw Beth standing beside Philip’s bed.

“What is she doing here?” Angelica demanded, addressing Cassandra.

“She’s leaving in…” she checked her watch once again, “two minutes.”

“Ladies, please…” was all Philip could say.

“The nurses won’t like it if they see Philip has a lot of visitors,” Chanty raised her brow at Beth.

Dennis’s twin sister must have realized she was up against three. She sighed and looked down at Philip and was about to touch him but stopped when she heard Cassandra clear her throat. “I guess I have to go,” she said gently.

“Thank you for coming,” Philip sincerely said.

Beth just nodded, turned, and looked at the two ladies standing by the door. “I’d have my day with you,” Cassandra heard her hiss.

She snapped her head toward Philip who was frowning. “Did you hear that?” she mouthed at her husband. Philip nodded.

“You’re welcome to try,” Angelica snapped at Beth before Philip could say a word.

“Why did you let her in?” Angelica asked her.

Cassandra just shrugged.

“When are you coming out?” Chanty asked Philip.

“Tomorrow,” he said.

“Four days from now,” Cassandra objected, throwing him a look. He sighed. He had been insisting of coming home but his doctors said he should stay for a week. “Don’t believe what he tells you. He’s just dying to get out of here.” Philip let out a resigned sigh.

He knew he was presently vulnerable for banter.

---

The day of Philip’s discharge from the hospital, Cassandra was fussing. Again, she would drive him home and she was already anxious and he was not helping at all. He had been trying to walk alone, insisting that he could do it. He would not even accept the wheelchair offered by the nurse.

“Fine! If you drop on the ground, don’t blame me.” She walked off to the car which was still missing a headlight. She waited for him impatiently. “You can’t tell me you don’t need help getting inside,” she uttered as he approached.

“That help I’ll accept, thank you.”

“Stubborn jerk,” she muttered, walking to the passenger side.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she snapped, opening the door for him. She took the crutches and placed it at the backseat. Once he was settled inside, she went to seat behind the wheel.

“Do you have a license?” he asked.

She put the car in gear and started driving. “I have an expired one.” She got over the fright the last time, and she sure could do it again, right? “And please, don’t try talking to me about getting it renewed. Don’t talk while I’m driving. I don’t want any distractions.”

“Okay,” he shrugged and looked out the window with a smile. He was obviously enjoying this.

As they say, it is easier the second time around, she reminded herself as she placed the car in gear and wheeled out of the parking lot.

She successfully drove them home without any more problems. But that did not mean her heart rate was within normal range because it surely was not.

“Good job,” he said, beaming at her.

Cassandra did not hear him because she was already looking ahead at the familiar white SUV parked across the street.

“What’s wrong?” Philip asked her.

“It’s Harrison,” she answered, getting out of the car. And she was right. Her friend jumped out of his car when he saw her.

“What’s he doing here?” her husband asked as she helped him out of the car.

“I don’t have any idea. Why don’t you go inside?” she suggested, handing him his crutches.

At first, she thought he would say no because he remained quiet, staring hard at Harrison who was already crossing the street. “Okay,” he said with a frown.

“I’ll make this quick,” she called after him.

“Hey,” Harrison said behind her and when she turned around to face her friend, he added, “I was in the area and I thought I should stop by. What happened to Strindog?”

“Strindberg.” She fixed him a hard look. “Harry, why are you here?”

He beamed at her and said, “I wanted to invite you to dinner. I’ve been calling your phone but you’re not answering.”

“Philip had an accident. I’ve been in the hospital for a week and I was not able to check on my phone,” she lied.

“So…about dinner?” Harrison asked, changing the subject, obviously not interested about Philip’s accident.

“No, I can’t. I have to watch over Philip. We just came out of the hospital.”

And that was when Harrison frowned and stared at her for a very long time. “You’re way too concerned for your husband for someone who’s forced into this marriage.”

A sudden wave of defense mechanism took over her. “What?” and she was about to say no when Harrison gave her a look.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

She tried to relay to her friend how pathetic she found his statement. “That’s stupid…” but her voice faltered.

“You are. I had been seeing it in the way you look at him and the way you are when you are with him.”

She weakly shook her head.

“Well, I think this means I’m being turned down over again,” he chided.

Cassandra tried to say something but found it hard to establish a logical statement.

“I’ll get going then,” Harrison said, backing out of the driveway, giving her a salute. “See you soon?”

She nodded, frowning at her lack of words. “See you soon.”

After Harrison’s car was out of sight, Cassandra found herself still frozen in spot, her thoughts completely lingering and flying around one thought. She had been trying to get away from it, trying to make herself believe that she was still what she was three months ago—before all of this happened.

But now that it came from someone other than herself, she was finally able to entertain and accept everything.

She was falling in love with her husband.

---

Philip stared out the window and watched as Harrison’s car pulled away while his wife stared blankly after it.

He watched her standing in the same spot Harrison left her. She was not moving, just staring blankly in the air, her back at him.

Clenching his jaw, Philip limped his way to his study.

It was time to call Henry Bell.

MOkq

Chapter 30

She panicked like crazy. She didn’t know what to do or how to act around her husband.

It felt weird.

This is what I was talking about,

she thought with frustration.

What to do now? What? She couldn’t possibly walk up to him and say, “Hey, I think I’m in love with you. No, I’m certain I’m in love with you. And I don’t want to get that divorce we talked about. Is there any way we can extend it until we sort this out? What do you say?”

That was what she wanted to say, and that was what her mind had been shouting since that phenomenal moment of realizing she was falling in love with Philip Strindberg.

“Shit,” she groaned, falling back in the bed.

“Cass?” Philip’s voice called out from downstairs.

“What?”

“I need help up the stairs,” he said.

She went to her feet and walked to the top of the stairs. He was standing at the bottom, crutches and all. “I thought your therapist taught you how to use that thing when climbing up the stairs?” she asked.

“Yes, he did. But I need help anyways.”

God, he’s killing me right now. “Just…just climb up. I’m busy.”

His smiled disappeared as he peered at her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she snapped too quickly. “I’m okay. I’m just tired with all that driving.”

“What did Harrison want anyway?”

“He wanted to have dinner. I said no.”

“Why?”

“Who would watch over you?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Like climbing up the stairs?”

He sighed. “Okay, fine.”

She let out a breath and walked down to help him.

“What are we having for dinner?”

“I’m still thinking about it.”

“You’re still thinking about it?” he asked with amusement. “No offense, babe, but you only fry. What’s there to think about?”

She stopped in her tracks and glared at him. “Do you want to know how it feels to stumble down the stairs before you even get to the first step?”

Philip chuckled but did not answer. “I’m hungry.”

“I’ll call for pizza. I can’t cook right now.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m tired. Remember I told you that?”

“Fine. Pepperoni for me.”

“Sure.” She guided him up the stairs and the moment they reached the top, she let him go and walked back downstairs. She could not stay upstairs alone with him.

“Where are you going?”

“Calling the pizza.”

“You can make the call from up here,” he said behind her.

“And I’m gonna start on some painting!” she lied.

She knew he was looking at her curiously, but she chose to ignore it. Yes, that was it. She would be ignoring him for now.

She had to think.

---

In the days that followed, she made sure she did not spend a lot of time alone with him. If she did not face her canvas all day, she would invite any member of their family to come visit. Hope and Mary were her constant companions. Just like now, they were having coffee at the back of the house.

“I don’t understand why you can stay confined in this house,” Mary spoke, “it’s too far away from the city, dear.”

Hope nodded. “I agree. I understand that my grandson can stay here for eternity without going out, but you my dear, I admire you for it.”

Cass smiled faintly. “I love it here. It’s peaceful,” she answered.

“Oh, well, I think it suits your artistic side,” Hope said, sipping from her cup.

“Philip told me a long time ago when he bought this house that he was sure he would spend the rest of his life here,” Mary informed them. “His father didn’t like the idea of him working from home. It was actually the first time I saw him stand up for something where his dad was concerned.”

Curious, Cassandra said, “I can’t imagine Philip following orders.”

“Believe me my dear, though I loved my husband, may he rest in peace, I didn’t like how he treated my children.”

Hope nodded. “That man was the total opposite of William.”

“He dictated Philip’s life. And I was happy when my son was finally able to fight. Oh, it was fun to see them start fighting.” Mary chuckled along with Hope.

“Remember that girl he dated?” Hope asked.

“Yes, of course. Who was it? Tania?”

“Why? What happened?” Cassandra asked.

“Philip dumped her after he found out his father paid the girl to date him.”

“That’s impossible,” she gasped. Who would have to accept money to date Philip? Anyone would jump at the chance!

“Believe me, it’s true. I was mad when I found out,” Mary explained. “Philip has never had a stable relationship ever since.”

“And it shocked everyone when he announced he was getting married to you,” Hope added.

“We have been prodding him to find someone and start a family. There even came a point that he would not join us for any affairs just to escape.”

“When he announced his marriage to you, we all thought it was just something he cooked up to stop us from pushing women at his direction,” Hope added. “But I guess we were wrong. He really did marry you.”

Cassandra almost sputtered into her cup. “You suspected he was lying?” Cassandra asked in disbelief.

“Yes, of course!” Mary answered instantly. “I know my son very well and I know he would do anything just to have what he wants.”

“What changed your mind?”

“When he brought you to meet us,” her mother-in-law said with a sweet smile toward her. “We finally got to see the face behind the name. And we did not just see Philip the way he was toward you—we saw you together.”

Cassandra didn’t know what to say. She was dumbfounded. It was odd how Philip’s family suspected he was lying but ended up believing his lies when they saw her. She must be a really good actress!

But then, just as suddenly, she felt an attack of guilt. There, sitting with her, wearing their happy faces, were two of the people she and Philip had been fooling. She didn’t know if she could continue this charade she was having with her husband for a long time.

They don’t deserve it, she silently uttered in her head. Since she met his family, she had been feeling guilty every time they met. But on the other hand, she doubted if she could make herself tell them the truth. If the time came that she and Philip would have to separate, she hoped they wouldn’t hate her.

The thought of the apparent separation crushed her, the feeling being new to her. When the day came that she would have to leave, she would not only leave the man she loved—she would also leave behind an amazing family.

Hope was in the middle of saying something about William’s health when Philip came out the door, and as if she was allergic to him, she shot to her feet—an instinct she had developed for almost a week now—and said, “I forgot I need to call Angelica about something,” she didn’t even know why she uttered Angelica’s name, her statement pulling a frown from Philip.

Mary and Hope never thought anything of her sudden exit, but she was certain Philip was getting annoyed.

“Are you, by any chance, avoiding me?” Philip’s voice right behind her made her jump with a curse.

“What are you talking about? Of course not,” she cried out in one sentence.

He looked at her like he was studying one of his papers and he couldn’t quite get it. “I know you’re avoiding me. Why?” Standing there with his crutches, she was thankful. That way, he couldn’t stop her with his hands. “Don’t you dare walk away, Cassandra,” he warned when she took a step back.

“I need to call Ange,” she lied. Shit. She felt like a junior high student having an undeniably intense crush on an older high school guy.

“I know you when you’re lying,” her husband uttered matter-of-factly.

Really? “I’m not. I really have to call her.”

He awkwardly took his phone from his pocket and handed it to her. “Then call her with this.”

“Uh…it’s private.” The look on his face made her say, “Okay, I’ll call her.” And then, she slowly searched for Angelica’s name and tapped the green button, looking at her husband innocently as she waited for the call to connect.

“Hello?” Angelica’s voice was a whisper.

“Hey, it’s me,” she beamed, trying to think of something to say.

“Cass? I can’t talk right now. I’m busy.” And just like that, the line went dead. That was weird, she thought with a frown. Why was Angelica whispering? And she sounded nervous.

“So?” Philip broke her line of thought.

“She said she’s busy,” she said, handing the phone back to her husband.

“What do you want to talk about anyway?”

“It’s a secret,” she answered and started to walk away.

“And where are you going now?”

“I need to shower, I feel sticky,” she lied once again though she was sure he knew she was only giving lousy excuses.

“We need to talk about this problem of yours, Cassy,” he pointed out.

“Tomorrow maybe,” she said over her shoulder. She had to really clear her mind and wrap her head around everything by tonight.

---

But that night, she fell asleep in her room without bothering to try figuring out about her situation. She couldn’t just ignore and avoid her husband for the rest of their months together because that would be stupid.

By morning, Philip was busy in his office which was a relief for her.

She was about to call Chanty for coffee when Harrison called her.

“Hey,” she said with a smile.

“Just wanna check up on you,” her friend said from the other line. “Want to go visit Dennis?”

“Uh, no. Sheena and Beth might be there and I don’t want any more trouble.”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I’m here with him and the two tigers are not here. They’re out for a day or two. They started some new therapy the other week and it’s looking good.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in an hour,” she said without further hesitation.

“Want me to pick you up?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll drive,” she said proudly.

“You can drive now? Oh, yes. I remember you climbing out of the driver’s seat the other day.”

“Of course. How difficult can driving be? See you soon?” She clicked off before he could ask her if she already had a license. Of course she didn’t.

She went to Philip’s office and knocked.

“What?” his voice asked from behind the door.

Cassandra opened it a crack and announced, “I need to borrow your car keys.”

His frown deepened. “Where are you going?”

“The hospital? I’m going to see Dennis.” There was no use lying.

“You don’t have a license. I’ll go with you,” he said, standing up and grabbing his crutches.

“It’s okay. I can drive alone—”

“You are not allowed to drive my car alone for a month. You ruined my headlight,” he reminded her as he took his jacket. “Let’s go,” he opened the door widely and walked past her—limped was more like it.

Humbly and like a puppy that was deprived of a cookie bone, she followed him out the door.

She didn’t have any more excuse to give him so she went directly to the driver’s side and waited as he sat himself beside her at the passenger seat. Amazing how the fear and the claustrophobic feeling were gone and she could breathe more easily. Well, not when her husband was just inches away.

“Why do you want to see him all of a sudden?”

She shrugged. “I just found out from Harrison that Sheena and Beth are not there. He said they started a new therapy of some sort the other week and it’s looking good.”

“But why do you want to see him?” His brows were already forming a straight line as he stared straight at the road.

“Because he might wake up?” she tried to jest. And I was hoping I could stay away from you for a little while.

He obviously did not find her statement funny. “You should get over him,” he said more gently.

She did not feel too defensive because she understood what he meant. He thought she was still hanging on to Dennis. What a moron. If you only know . “I’m over him,” were the nearest words to I love you she could utter.

“Then why the need to see him?”

“I got over my fear of driving or riding shotgun. Perhaps it is time to see if I can see him more often now. I still care for him, Philip.”

“You feel responsible to what happened to him. And I also told you—among other people—that it was not your fault.”

“I don’t care. And Dennis was special to me—he still is special to me—and I couldn’t just leave him like that.”

He did not answer, his gaze not leaving the road. She could sense he was trying to control his temper and she knew she had to keep her distance and shut up. Any words about Dennis could make him burst in fury.

Did it mean anything? This anger he displayed over Dennis—did it mean anything?

When they reached the hospital, he followed her up to Dennis’s room and into the room when he found out Harrison was inside.

“Hey,” Harrison greeted her, completely ignoring Philip. Her husband, already used to having no conversational relationship with her friend, approached the seat near the door and settled down.

Cassandra wondered how he felt being in the same room with two men who were special to his wife, one completely asleep and the other standing beside her by the bed.

“He’s still the same, isn’t he?” Harrison smiled.

She just nodded, looking down at Dennis’s face. She reached out to hold his hand.

“Hey, Den, we’re here to see you. Glad your sister and your best friend are not here though, no offense,” she joked.

“Hey, bro, did I mention to you she dumped me again?” Harrison said, giving her shoulder a light tap.

Cassandra threw her friend a look. It was weird to say something like that to Dennis.

She was about to sit on the bed beside Dennis when something weird and really

shocking happened.

“Uh, Harry, is he supposed to be doing that?” she asked carefully, looking at Dennis’s eyes. It was freaking open!

Harrison looked undisturbed. “Sometimes, coma patients open their eyes. It’s some kind of a reflex. And they’ve been doing the procedures I told you about and he’s been reacting to them positively,” he explained.

Cassandra tried to ebb the hammering of her heart. That was scary! Dennis suddenly opening his eyes was the first time for her but apparently, it was not. Her thoughts halted as she felt something else.

“Uh, Harry, should he be able to grip my hand? Like he’s really holding it?” she asked, looking down at her hand clasped by Dennis’ pale one.

“Don’t joke something about that, Cass, it’s not funny,” Harrison said with a snort.

“I’m seriously serious,” she said with growing anxiety. “Oh my God, Harry, his hand is moving!”

With her words, she saw Philip stand up and walk near them with his crutches.

“What?” Harrison suddenly turned serious when he saw Dennis’ hand holding hers, then he brought out a penlight and checked his friend’s eyes. “Dennis?” he asked aloud. And as if he came out from nearly drowning, Dennis opened his mouth and a tiny raspy sound escaped his throat.

“Oh my God!” Cassandra cried out, jumping away from the bed. Her hands flew to her mouth as a single drop of tear fell from her eye.

Was Dennis waking up or was he dying? The two stupid questions erupted in her mind.

She looked over her shoulder at Philip, her eyes wide with alarm.

Harrison grabbed for the buzzer and punched the button to call the nurses. He was too excited to wait so he rushed out the door and called at the top of his lungs.

What was happening!

Cassandra jumped back to the side of the bed and covered Dennis’s hand with both of hers. She looked into his opened eyes.

No, he was not dying.

She scoffed in disbelief and then she started to laugh, her tears running freely down her cheeks. She turned to her husband who was frowning with curiosity and seemed lost with what was happening and uttered, “He’s awake! Philip, he’s awake!”

Chapter 31

Nurses and doctors came rushing inside the room, pushing everyone back except Cassandra whose hands were still holding Dennis’. His vitals were rechecked, including his brain activity which the doctors studied and it was with smiles on their faces that they informed them that Dennis was awake.

Cassandra couldn’t believe it. She wanted to be alone with Dennis. She wanted to be able to talk to him. But as her mind was running along the things she wanted to say to him, his eyes closed once again.

“He closed his eyes. What’s wrong?” she asked in panic.

“He’s fine. If he is responding to the procedure like the past patients, he will wake up again,” one doctor told her, studying Dennis’ monitors.

She nodded, relieved.

“We’ll have to do some tests when he regains consciousness,” another doctor said aloud.

“Yes, yes, do what you have to do.”

“But we cannot promise a full recovery,” he added. “He may be awake, but we cannot fully assess the damage his injuries caused until we do further tests.”

She nodded once again.

Then, one by one, the room emptied as doctors gave orders to the nurses. Finally she, Harrison and Philip were once again alone inside with Dennis.

Long minutes passed by and no one dared say a word.

Cassandra was still trying to convince herself that she was not dreaming and Dennis was awake. Harrison, she didn’t have any idea what he was thinking. And Philip—well, she’d pay to read his mind at the moment because he was once again sitting in his chair with a serious blank look.

The doors burst open and Sheena and Beth rushed in with their faces flushed.

“What are you doing here?” Sheena exclaimed, almost running across the room toward her.

“Don’t you dare touch her,” Philip’s cold voice spoke for the first time. Sheena stopped with her hands closed in fists.

“Philip!” Beth said, startled to find him behind them by the door.

“Get out,” Sheena addressed Cassandra her with rage.

“Let’s go, Cassandra,” Philip said gently. “You’ll see him when he wakes up again. I promise.”

Already drained with overwhelming emotions, Cassandra reluctantly released Dennis’ hand and stepped back. Slowly, she walked through the sheath of angry aura emanating from both Sheena and Beth who stepped back to gladly let her pass like Vatican soldiers that they were, standing at each side of her.

Philip waited for her by the door, supported by his crutches.

“I’ll call you,” Harrison said from where he was standing at the foot of the bed.

It was Philip who nodded, guiding her out the door.

“I can’t believe it,” she uttered more to herself than to her husband as they walked down the corridor.

Philip did not answer, obviously still in shock as well.

Slowly, Cassandra stole a glance at his direction as he walked alongside her, working with his crutches. What is he thinking? God, I hope it’s not something stupid, she prayed silently.

---

As they drove back home, neither of them spoke a word.

Yes, she was happy and glad that Dennis was awake and that he might be back to normal again, but that was just it. She didn’t feel a rush of romantic emotions when she finally believed that he was awake. She didn’t picture him waking up and planning a wedding with her. Pictures of her being with Dennis did not flash her mind when he opened his eyes earlier.

All she felt was utter relief and freedom.

Though she knew she still needed to ask for Dennis’ forgiveness, she felt she was finally free from all the guilt. And relief was another thing that came about—relieved that finally, she had her final answers. Now, knowing Dennis could go back to normal and walk and talk, she was certain of one thing: the desire to be by his side was gone.

All she wanted was answers. Why did he want to back out of the wedding? Did it just pop in his head or had he been thinking about it longer than that?

Throwing a quick glance at her husband, she realized that she wanted something else as well—but that would be another problem and she got to take them one step at a time. Right now, Dennis would have to go first.

She had to settle her past before she could gamble for her future.

---

By the time they got back home, Philip was still quiet and Cassandra felt awkward.

God, what must he be thinking?

She wanted to stop him and ask to spill out whatever was on his mind, but she couldn’t just do that now, could she?

It was no question where she would sleep. For almost a week now, she had been sleeping in her room, and it would be wrong to be with him when she knew she wouldn’t even get to close her eyes for the night. But a part of her wanted to lie on that bed beside him, to assure him that she was here to stay, that nothing would have to change.

But does he want it the way you do? The joy-spoiler part of her brain asked and it was right. Though she wanted to show Philip that she would stay if he wanted, she didn’t know if that was the way he really wanted it.

For all she knew, he was already dying to hand her back to Dennis.

---

She didn’t hear from Harrison the next day and she was already getting anxious. What if it was just false alarm or something?

The other thing she could think after analyzing everything was Dennis didn’t want to see her. It made more sense and it made her sad, even depressed, but she couldn’t blame him if that were the case. She only wanted to be assured that he was physically okay.

She spent the three days constantly checking her phone that even Philip asked her how she felt. She knew he was busy and she didn’t want to trouble him or make him think that she was depressed about not being able to see Dennis.

Philip was also acting weird, giving her odd glances and Cassandra feared that he might do something she wouldn’t like. But if he was thinking about anything near that thought, she didn’t know. He was always on the phone with his secretary talking about business.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” he startled her by that question while they were having breakfast.

“None that I can think of,” she answered, taking a piece of toast from his plate.

“Wanna go camping?” he asked.

She pretended to think. “Only if you won’t let me carry one whole chicken,” she finally said.

He smiled, but it did not really reach his eyes. It hurt her to see him like that. Was he trying to console her over Dennis? Did he pity her for not getting an invite back to the hospital?

“I won’t if you won’t wear shorts,” he bargained.

“Deal,” she smiled and whirled around to go to her room.

---

This time, the trip to their camping site into the woods was pretty much the same pace as the last time because Philip was in crutches. She had tried discouraging him from going and to postpone their camping until he was more able, but he insisted that he could do it, so they went. They set up camp, or she set up camp, much to her frustration, rather late.

By the time she was finished with the tent, he had already started a fire.

Then, like always, they sat side by side on the cloth-covered ground.

“You know, I always find myself in this kind of a weird happiness whenever I’m with you,” Philip uttered without warning. And before she could get over her shock, he added, “but it’s usually only when your mouth is closed,” he finished with a grin.

Her mouth fell open and remembering what he said, she closed it in an instant.

He laughed—his Philip genuine, make-you-forget-everything-when-you-hear-it kind of laugh.

She pushed at him playfully and lay back on the ground. She smiled sadly, remembering the last time they went camping. That time, she had less trouble to think about. Philip followed after her on the ground, but it was to loom over her, his face shadowed by the fire behind him, just inches away from hers.

“Or when it touches mine,” he added in a whisper before claiming her mouth for a gentle, tender kiss.

She was halfway through linking his words to his last statement when all thoughts came flying out of her mind and deeper into the woods.

Her hands came to roam through his hair, his neck, his shoulders—well, practically everywhere—missing every inch of him. She adored his mouth with hers, trying her might to show him how much she wanted and needed him. She bit back the words she wanted to tell him when his lips left hers to trail down her neck. All Cassandra could do was close her eyes, a single tear tracing down her cheek. It dried where it stopped as they enjoyed the magic.

This, this was theirs—or so she hoped.

She wanted it to be.

No, she needed it to be.

---

By the time she woke up, she almost feared it. She didn’t like her morning the last time she went camping with Philip and she was almost certain he would be cold or distant once again. If that were so, she would curse the woods with all its bad spirits. She wouldn’t blame anyone else if she opened her eyes and her husband wouldn’t as much look at her.

But open them she did, and thank God she was wrong, because he was looking down at her lovingly with those lazy morning eyes she grew familiar with. Slowly, she smiled up to him, closing her eyes once more as he pressed his lips against hers. She could be in the middle of the desert and she still wouldn’t care. She was in his arms and that was all that mattered.

They spent the next few hours trekking further into the woods, Philip with his crutches which she never—not for a moment—heard him complain about, she with her hand on his shoulder as he guided her all the way.

Philip was obviously very oriented with everything in the woods, including the names of trees and the type of stones which was weird for Cassandra and she couldn’t help but compare him to Dennis. Her ex-comatose, ex-husband-to-be was like Philip when it came to work: dedicated, persistent and even arrogant.

But that was just it.

Dennis limited himself to what was commonly acceptable by society—going to parties, conversing with his colleagues, taking her to dates, etcetera. He never took her to places that were outside his comfort zone, which was a little bit against her nature. He never took risks.

Philip took risks by choosing her to be his transient wife in the first place. He took risks learning and knowing the woods outside his home. He took risks everyday he lived with his crazy wife. And she only hoped he’d take the risk to continue on with their marriage and see where it would lead them.

When she finally complained about her grumbling stomach, they headed back to camp and roasted chicken and talked about the perfect weather, nothing about some guy who woke up from a two-year coma.

“It’s getting hot, we should get going,” he announced much to her disappointment. Honestly, she could live in the woods forever and he would be Tarzan and she would be Jane without the yellow balloon dress and the hat. But wishful thinking would only remain as such. They had reality to face.

---

A week passed and still no word from Harrison or anyone.

Cassandra had started to give up and even started to feel a certain kind of anger. Did she not deserve even a little bit of information as to how Dennis was doing? Shouldn’t Harrison be concerned that she might be feeling crazy waiting for a call?

She tried to keep herself busy helping Philip with his therapy and starting on another painting, but there were moments when she found herself either staring into blank air or restlessly pacing around the house.

She was in the kitchen cleaning the table when her phone finally rang and she almost flew across the room to the counter. Philip tried to act like he didn’t hear the ringing phone as he closed the dishwasher.

When Cassandra couldn’t move to pick it up, just staring at the unregistered number, Philip said in a flat tone, his head bent on his work, “Aren’t you going to answer that?”

Cassandra swallowed. Her hands were starting to shake as she grabbed the vibrating device, looked at the screen, and answered in a quaking voice, “Hello?”

“Cassy, it’s me.” Cassy . It was weird to hear that name coming from someone else other than Philip.

Of course.

He didn’t have to say his name. She knew his voice too well. But she didn’t say it either to confirm she heard him. She didn’t say a word, not even a breath escaped her mouth. Her eyes searched Philip’s face, but he was too busy, eyes intent on admiring the dishwasher.

“Cassy, it’s me, Dennis.”

“Dennis,” she said in a whisper, like she was talking secretly inside the closet, afraid her mom would hear her using the phone. She cleared her throat and tried louder, “You’re…awake.” Yep, that was really stupid.

“Yes,” his voice seemed happy but croaky. “I want to see you. Please.”

Philip had turned around to wipe the already clean counter and this time she couldn’t get a glimpse of the look on his face. Not that she would want to see it right now because it could either make or break her.

“When?”

“Now. Please, Cassy, I really need to see you.”

“I’ll be there,” she answered.

“I’m still in the hospital.”

“Okay, I’ll be there.” She clicked off, feeling quite surreal. She just heard Dennis’ voice over the phone. He was awake. He was talking. And he wanted to see her.

“The keys are by the door,” Philip said without looking back at her, his voice flat as ever.

“You’re not going with me?”

“I got some work to do. Just be careful,” he said. No ’ C

ome back home safely ,’ or

‘C all me if you need me.’

“What about you? You might need some help with the stairs—”

“Just go,” he snapped and repeated gently, “Just go. It’s fine.”

Daggers straight through the heart. Shoot, that hurt! Cassandra nodded, gulped, and walked out the kitchen, grabbed the car keys, and within a minute walked out the house.

---

A week of waiting for a call gave Cassandra enough time to imagine different possible scenarios that could happen when she met Dennis. One even included him not remembering her, but that was out now. Calling her would make any idiot conclude he didn’t have some sort of amnesia.

So Cassandra calmly drove to the hospital. Okay, maybe not too calm, because she was furious as well. The hurt was fast to disappear, but the anger came just as swiftly. Philip acted like she was just out to buy groceries! What the heck! She was going wring his neck later for good. Then she’d force him to listen to what she had to say.

She was not that insensitive or stupid not to know or feel that her husband could possibly return her feelings. But nothing was certain unless one of them had to bring down the hammer and speak up.

He may like it, he may not. But I’m settling this one my way.

---

Walking down the corridors of the hospital, Cassandra was cautious. She didn’t want to meet Sheena and Beth because that would only ruin her composure. She wanted to be alone with Dennis to talk, to say what was needed to be said, and to demand for answers.

She didn’t know what he wanted to tell her and any moment now, she’d find out.

Cassandra took a deep breath when she stopped outside his door, released her balled fists, and shook her hands. She needed to do this. She had been waiting for this very moment and now and here it was.

In one swift motion, she opened the door and was almost blinded by the light. As her eyes adjusted, she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. The silence told her Sheena and Dennis’ twin sister was not around.

“Cassy,” Dennis’ familiar voice said by the window.

Cassandra’s eyes were still adjusting to the bright light coming through the window so she walked closer, her eyes watering with tears. There sitting on a wheelchair was the man she once loved and still cared for. “Dennis,” her lips quivered as she said his name, finally being able to utter it while looking at his pale, handsome, conscious face.

He beamed, his perfect teeth showing. He looked down at his legs and said, “I still can’t walk though. Still undergoing therapy.” He looked over his shoulder through the window and smiled, “I’ve missed a lot of sun lately,” he said, explaining why he was sitting where he was.

She nodded, standing there about two meters away from him.

He held out his hand and she gladly walked the remaining space between them, took his hand, and dropped to the ground in front of him crying. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

She bent her head to hide her overflowing tears. Dennis had never seen her cry before. Not ever.

“What are you sorry for?” When she didn’t answer, he continued, “Harry told me you’ve been beating yourself, blaming yourself for what happened to me.” He held out his other hand and rested it under her chin to force her to look into his eyes, those brown eyes she had longed to see for years. That warm look in them was still the same—comforting and loving.

“You wasted two years in this hospital because of me,” she finally said, meeting his gaze.

“I don’t remember any of it,” he said, making light of his previous state.

She scoffed a weak laugh through her tears. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lost control. I was the one driving and I should be the one who—”

“Don’t say anything like that,” he stopped her words. “It was my fault. I told you the news at a very wrong time,” he said, his words full of bitterness toward himself. “I was so stupid. I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t even know why I wanted to back off.”

Cassandra froze. “What do you mean?”

Dennis chuckled, shaking his head. “I got cold feet I guess,” he shrugged.

“You…” Cassandra blinked. “What?” she asked in disbelief.

“I was suddenly afraid and I don’t know why. The thought just popped in my head and I started to panic. I don’t think I was even serious.”

Cold feet? That was the reason?

The shock she wanted and expected upon hearing his reason must have been stuck somewhere because right now she was just plain dumbfounded. She expected a name, another woman—a name! But a cold feet was no name! It was just freaking unbelievable! Cold feet? What the hell!

Her response startled him though, because she laughed. She laughed really hard until she was out of breath. Disbelief, relief, and sudden enlightenment showered upon her.

“Cassy?” he asked with concern.

“Cold feet?” she managed between laughs. “You? Cold feet?”

His lips quirked into a grin.“Yeah, I guess so.”

“There was no one else? No pregnant woman? No love-at-first sight-with-another-woman?”

He shook his head. “There is only you, Cassy.”

His words stopped her. Did he say is . It was in present form. He didn’t say was . He said, ‘There IS only you, Cassy.’

Okay, this was going to be difficult after all. “So, you don’t hate me for causing the accident?”

“No, Cassy, I don’t,” he said almost instantly. “I could never.”

“So what did you call me here for?”

He stopped to look at her for a long time before answering, his face serious. “Harrison told me you have something to tell me. He didn’t say what it was, but he said it’s big. Beth knew about it but didn’t say a word. She and Sheena refused to say anything about you.”

Cassandra wiped her tears and let go of his hand and stood up. She took a deep breath, glanced out the window, almost hoping she was out there and not here about to say the words that would put a dot to the chapter of her life called Dennis. “I’m married,” she whispered, but she knew Dennis heard it too well. She knew he was shocked as well because she could feel his eyes looking at her with disbelief and awe.

“You’re married,” his voice shook.

Cassandra nodded, the tears falling down once again. She knew at the sound of his voice that he did not expect that from her. But she had to say what she needed to say. He got to hear the words.

“And I’m in love with him,” she finished. She didn’t intend to tell him about her real situation with Philip. It was between her, Philip, and those people who knew about the true story because it no longer mattered. What mattered was that she had fallen in love again.

“Funny I was just about ready to ask you to marry me again a few seconds ago,” Dennis said, puffing out air. She couldn’t look at him and tell him she was still willing to be friends with him. That would not happen for now. Maybe someday, but not now. “But it’s okay. I was not even sure if you’re still in love with me when I woke up. No, let me rephrase that—I was sure you were over me because if you were, you would have not left my side when I woke up. And don’t blame yourself. I understand. You had your life ahead of you—you still do.”

A long silence reigned between them.

“I’m not going to say sorry about finally letting you go,” she said quietly. “It happened naturally whether I wanted it or not.”

Dennis nodded, looking out the window as well. “When do I meet him?”

Cassandra’s lips twitched. “Soon, when everything’s polished.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“That’s for me to know…and polish,” she grinned.

---

She didn’t stay longer. All was well, and though Dennis was kind of hurt, she knew he’d be over her soon. After all, he wouldn’t have had cold feet or think of backing out the wedding if he was sure about her. He’d be fine and she was sure of that.

Right now, her worry was about Philip.

She promised to have that talk with him once she got back and she would do that. No backing out. Today, she’d either be broken-hearted or be a happily married woman in a marriage without a deadline.

In a hurry to get inside the house before she changed her mind, she did not bother to park the car in the garage. If things did not end up the way she wanted it, she might need the car after because there was no way she would stay if Philip didn’t want her.

She half-ran to the front door and opened the door, intending to find her husband.

“Philip?” she called out.

No answer.

“Philip?” she asked aloud once again.

She found him in the living room, sitting there looking out the glass walls and out into the woods.

“Hey,” she said in a serious tone. “I need to talk to you.”

He looked away from the glass walls, stood up with his crutches and walked toward her. “I have something for you,” he said, his tone dead-pan.

Cassandra didn’t know why, but her heart started to beat faster. “What?” she asked, voice anxious.

He bent down to pick something from the couch and when his hands came back in view, he was holding a piece—no, he was holding pieces of paper. “Our divorce papers,” he added, his voice empty along with his whole features.

Cassandra’s ears were ringing with his words.

The last time he gave her a piece of paper, she jumped for joy. But today, she was about to crumble in despair.

ll care Llq

Chapter 32

Words escaped her and none came out of her mouth.

Cassandra stared at the papers like they were her archenemy. She despised the sight of them. She wanted them to burn right in Philip’s hand and he could burn with them as well because she hated him right that moment.

He appeared calm and collected like that time he appeared in front of her in the coffee shop.

“This is probably what you wanted to talk about, right?” he said.

“W-what?” she stuttered in a whisper, her mind busy trying to stop the tears that were trying to break free.

“Dennis is awake and obviously wants you back. I can talk with your father. I don’t see any threat coming my way or yours now that Henry is almost done with his job.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “I needed you for a wife to protect myself, my family and the business. Believe it or not, marrying you was the only way to save myself from some enemies.”

“Philip, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Your father can explain everything. By the time the divorce is finalized, your father and I will have won our game of chess and you will get your answers.”

Her mouth fell open, her mind muddled, confused.

He looked at her for a brief moment before adding, “I don’t think I need you anymore, Cass.” He placed the papers on the nearest table and with his crutches limped his way to his office.

Scream, her mind ordered, but her tongue held her back.

Two balls of tears escaped her eyes. Her lips trembled to stop the rest from falling because she couldn’t break down now. She couldn’t even open her mouth without whimpering.

A strong force was wrenching her heart and she couldn’t breathe at all. Her knees wobbled and she steadied herself on the table, her hands right on top of the papers. She snatched them, balling her hand with what was left of her strength and pushed away from the table, willing herself to turn and walk. She needed to go to her room. There, she could cry and break down.

Go, Cassandra, go, another voice ordered.

No, go knock on that door and say the words, a contradicting thought said.

But with a whimper, she followed the first voice and forced herself to take the steps up the stairs and there she cried like a child. But she cried silently, muffling the sounds with her pillows.

What a freaking day.

She went to reject Dennis and came home to be rejected. And she wasn’t even able to make her proposal yet!

By the time her tears drained dry, Philip’s words ran around her mind.

I don’t think I need you anymore, Cass…

And so Cassandra ordered herself to get up.

---

She took his car. He could rot in that house with his crutches and she wouldn’t care.

Bargaining, denial, and acceptance could come later. Right now she was just plain angry—angry at him, and herself mostly. How could she have been stupid to think he’d want to keep her? When did she start to forget that he married her for a reason? And when did she start hoping that he might not want to let her go?

Yes, she could have walked right up to him and talk some sense, but a lot of things ran around her head. Maybe he was itching to get her out of his life. Didn’t he say that he and her father were winning the game?

And winning was everything for Philip, right? However he used her, for whatever reason he used her, he won and like the many pawn pieces of his secret chess game, she had just been kicked out of the game.

Or maybe he thinks you wanted out, one part of her brain said, that ever hopeful part of her who wanted Philip so badly.

And what about last night? What, it was just a goodbye camping trip?

The memory of last night was what made her angry and the reason why she left as he suggested.

“What a moron!” she grumbled, stepping on the gas. She left behind her things. They could rot with him as well.

All she took with her were the divorce papers—her worst nightmare.

Suddenly, she felt lost. And unlike most girls, she got no real girl friends she could call for comfort. Yes, there was Chanty, but calling her would be just stupid. And there was Angelica, but the lady would only either jump with joy or snap at her for leaving.

Harrison and her family were out of the question.

Shit. Family.

How would they react?

She couldn’t trouble over it right now though. First, she had to go back home—to her original home where she’d be alone—and think. She couldn’t act harshly just because she was angry, right? She threw a quick glance at the papers lying beside her.

He had them prepared. Always the conniving, one-step-ahead-of-the-game son of a bitch!

Philip saw this was coming. He anticipated it. He made it possible because he freaking planned for this a long time ago! And now he thought it was the perfect time to give them to her because what, Dennis woke up?

Always the conniving, one-step-ahead-of-the-game son of a bitch indeed!

The constant pang in her chest hurt every time she thought of her husband, slash, soon-to-be-ex-husband-if-she-signed-the-papers. Their time together may not have been perfect, but it invaded most of her memories more than the years spent with Dennis. She had been through a lot because of her husband—and most of them were usually happy in most ways.

Memories of their first meeting, their wedding, their honeymoon, their days inside his house, babysitting, those moments when they did nothing but stare up the stars, their camping trips… there were a lot of memories she could barely handle them without her heart aching with the thought that there would be no more them. No banters and snappy remarks. No Philip to eat her horrible cooking. No Philip to carry her home whenever she was intoxicated. No Philip who would get angry whenever she got a call from Harrison. No Philip to nag her about the toothpaste.

No Philip.

And no Philip was like Cain without Abel or David without Goliath—the pairs were not perfect, but one couldn’t be defined without the other and in Cassandra’s mind that was what she and Philip were.

---

Ever felt like you were Atlas? Ever imagined how it would feel having that humongous weight on your shoulders and the pain radiates to your heart you could barely breathe? Ever thought of carrying that wherever you go?

That was precisely what Cassandra felt. But it was not the world she was carrying, but the cluster of emotions she could not thoroughly express—the hurt, the anger, the love.

Part of her hated herself. She could have taken the risk of telling him the way she planned it. But most part of her told her to stay at home and get over it, sign the damned papers and…and what? Go on living like a zombie? Because that was what she had been doing for like a week now. She was a living dead rotting inside the confines of her own home. The home she had loved before she met Philip but now just felt like some cheap motel room that offered no comfort or security.

And it was not like Cassandra to be sleeping the day doing nothing.

Get up, you stupid girl, her strong side urged almost every day.

But she gave in to the helplessness and the depression. She knew she was just going through a phase and it would be over soon.

She was practically lying on her carpeted floor just staring at the far corner of her room like a crazy drunk when in fact she did not get an ounce of alcohol when her phone rang.

She did not get up. She didn’t even know where she threw her mobile phone.

But it persisted, irritating her. She was loving the smell of her carpet and was in the process of creating some picture for a painting, but it was shattered because of the noise.

So she pushed herself up and stood up, feeling quite dizzy by the sudden change of position, and looked for her phone. She found it and punched the green button. “What?” she snapped.

“Are you okay? You sound tired,” Chanty’s voice asked with concern.

“Yes, I’m okay,” she rolled her eyes.

“Well, anyway, I have news for you,” her sister-in-law, slash, soon-to-be-ex-sister-in-law-if-she-signed-the-papers, the very same ones lying there on the floor with her, said with excitement. “Are you alone? Is Philip with you?”

Oh, so he did not break the news yet? Great. What a moron. “Yes, I’m alone. Completely alone,” she said dryly.

“Okay, so you would not believe this one. I just found out who Ange is dating!”

“Who?” she asked, not really interested. She was too eager to drop the phone and go back on that carpet and dream. She knew she looked horrible and her hair was all over the place, but she didn’t care.

“Henry Bell! Can you believe it?” Chanty squealed.

“Uh, no,” she frowned. “But I thought you said she was dating someone rugged-looking?”

“I know, right? But then, I really bumped into them just this morning and I got a good look at him. I don’t really know Henry that well—only seen him during parties—but I knew it was him! But get this: it looked like he was not that glad to see me! And Ange was in shock like she wanted to hide. It was just so weird.”

“They’re probably trying to hide it,” she said.

“Maybe, but anyways, why don’t you come over? I’m baking a cake.”

“Uh, I have some work to do,” she lied.

“Where’s Philip anyway?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him in a week,” she said truthfully.

She got the reaction she expected. Chanty laughed. “Funny, Cass. Is he working his ass off and ignoring you again?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s it,” she nodded.

“Well, I hope he gets better soon. And call me when he’s free of his crutches so we can come by and celebrate.”

“Uh, sure,” she nodded. “Hey, I really need to go now.”

“Okay, talk to you soon?”

“Sure,” she gulped the tears. She loved Chanty like she was her real sister. Turning off her phone, she threw it on her bed.

The tears pooled her eyes and she didn’t stop them this time. It would be better if they emptied themselves fast. She needed her old life back if she had to sign those damned papers soon. She walked right where they were spread out on the floor and stared at them coldly.

---

She was just about to grab a pen and sign them when her house phone rang.

Her thoughts halted, freezing her on the floor. No one knew she was home. No one except Philip.

Her heart started to hammer. She hated the effects he had on her! She stormed out of her room, ready for battle. Whatever he had to say, she’d face it. What the hell, she was acting like a crazy person, acting so depressed one moment and being an Amazonian soldier the next.

She grabbed the ringing phone and shouted, “What the hell do you want, Philip?”

“Uh, Ms. Cassandra?” it was a woman’s voice.

Shit. “What?” she snapped.

“Mr. Strindberg asked me to call you. This is his lawyer’s secretary.”

Cassandra’s face was drained of blood—or what was left of it. What the hell. Even Henry wouldn’t want to deal with her now, is that it? “What does he want?”

“He is asking if you already signed the papers?”

Again, daggers through the heart, and again, ouch, that hurt like hell. “I was about to attack the damned papers with a pen when you rang. Tell him I’ll deliver them tomorrow. Personally. And tell him I won’t give it back unless I’m face to face with his stupid, kill-worthy face, understand?”

“Yes, Ms. Cassandra—” she did not hear any more of the woman’s voice because she shouted, “I am still freaking Mrs. Strindberg!” and slammed the phone down.

Cassandra took a deep breath to calm herself. She had to think. She had to get back on track and think. “What a stupid, stupid—urgh! Idiot!” she shouted, her whole being shaking.

You can’t let him go…you have to get him this time!

Shit, that was something Angelica would do. She would go after Philip like a crazy bitch.

Yes, do that. Show him what you are capable of.

Right. Yes, she had to give it a try—just one try and she would be fine.

Composing herself, she slowly walked back to her room, thinking. What could she do?

Then an idea punched her in the face.

Okay, that’s a fantastic one, she grinned and ran the rest of the space to where the divorce papers were lying on the floor. She hurriedly picked them up and walked to her studio. Philip could bring hell to earth with what she was about to do, but she didn’t care.

---

Cassandra took a bath and dressed her usual outfit of shorts, t-shirt, and boots the very next day. She wanted to be fresh when she met with Philip today.

Before leaving, she looked down at the papers. What she did with them would tell him what she really wanted. She would not say the words. What she did was enough for him to understand and if he would not get it, that would be the end of it.

With renewed strength, she walked to his car and drove.

Again, memories ran through her mind. She was getting used to them. Even that pang of hurt was starting to get tolerable. It told her she was human and what she was going to do was right. The hurt told her she was doing the right thing because it reminded her that she had to address it—that she had to do something to make it go away.

She wanted this. She wanted him. And she was giving him one chance. Yes, just one. He’d be stupid not to take it.

---

She rang the bell, not intending to go straight right in. She still had the keys, but she didn’t want to get inside unless she’d be staying for good—unless he invited her in with the offer of spending the rest of their crazy lives together.

She heard his crutches from the other side and her heart couldn’t help but hammer.

You can back out now. Now’s the time for that.

No, you moron. Stay and face this.

She chose the latter suggestion of her brain and stayed, anticipation rising up. She felt him standing behind the door, but it took him a lot of time to open it. And when they did, she was almost ready to jump in his arms and beg. But that would never happen. No, Cassandra never begged for anything. She had too much pride to do that.

Instead, she held her place, her hands at her back, holding the thing he had asked for. Their gazes locked and hope crept up to her when she saw longing flash before his eyes before it turned blank at his will. Why did he need to make things difficult?

He looked tired. Like, really tired with bags under his eyes, and she wanted to think it was because of her. His face was unshaven, his dark brown hair a mess. Well, that’s a good thing.

If he was looking all so fresh, she would have clawed on his face.

And seeing him still in crutches, she wanted to cry. She wanted to be taking care of him until he was fine. Until he could walk normally again and be the one doing the caring. She wanted to take care of him until he could drive again and she could ride shotgun now that she was over the fear. She wanted to know how that would feel—to be able to share a ride with him behind the wheel while she was sitting in that passenger side feeling no fear. They were not able to do that. And they wouldn’t be able to do that if he would not take her.

They did not say a word for a very long time, but Cassandra cleared her throat and started by saying, “I brought them,” her voice was hoarse.

Philip just nodded, his eyes still blank.

Knowing she would not be hearing anything from him, she asked, “How have you been?”

“I’m fine. You look good yourself,” he said without emotion.

“Yeah, I just had a shower.” She rolled her eyes, then that silence reigned once again. Okay, small talk wouldn’t work. She finally willed her hands from her back and held them out to him.

The frown on his face which she had expected appeared. “What’s that?”

“Our divorce papers. I thought you wanted them back.”

“What the hell did you do to them?” he asked, anger in his voice.

Yep, typical Philip reaction. Cassandra raised one eyebrow and said, “This is all I could think of. I hope you get the message.” She pushed the canvas into his hands and backed off.

He looked at the canvas in shock.

She tore the freaking papers to pieces and made a collage out of it. It was a tent—a black-and-white collage of a tent. His mouth was open as he looked at her work.

“Think about it, Philip. This is the only chance I’m giving you.”

“What?” he asked, snapping his head up to glare at her.

“I have to go,” she said without answering the question. She had to get away because she didn’t want to cry in front of him.

She climbed back in his car and drove away, not looking back. She knew he was still standing in that doorway. He could be angry for all she cared. He could come after her if he could find another ride.

Right now, it was all up to him.

All she had to do was wait.

Chapter 33

She hated waiting. It was never a virtue she learned to perfect but in this case she did. But it was taking so long for Philip to make a move—any move.

Waiting for her phone to ring or her door to rattle with a knock was plain agony on her part.

Cassandra finally reached the acceptance phase of her grief by the end of the second week. She finally accepted that Philip would not come to her and beg her to come back. It hurt. Hell, it hurt more than that time she found out her father willingly gave her away. But she had to face it.

She never answered any calls from anyone, not even her mother or Chanty, who seemed to sense like there was something going on because she had been sending her text messages asking if she and Philip were okay.

She never replied, not intending to.

Her mother was the first to panic when she learned that she was back to her own house.

“Mom, I am fine. Philip and I just had a fight. That’s all. I need some time to be on my own and think,” she told her over the phone.

But she knew her mother would not just stop there.

The next day, Cassandra found her father at her doorsteps.

She sighed, opening the door wider. “Dad. If you’re here to beg me to go back to him and pretend that we are okay like what we’ve been trying to act all these months, this is not your lucky day.”

“Let’s go for a drink, shall we?” her father said with an awkward smile.

“Say whatever you have to say,” she said an hour later. She and her father found a silent pub near her place and they were down to their second bottle.

Kurt Anders sighed and leaned back against his chair. He took his precious time to look at his daughter in the eye and a gentle smile slowly formed on his face. “I am not going to force you to go back to him. What I did months ago was the first and last. Now that everything’s over, now that everything’s been taken care of, you are free to do whatever you want, Cassy.”

She frowned. “What do you mean everything’s over? What has been taken care of? Oh, wait, I don’t know.” She shot him a sarcastic look as she said that. “Because no one cared to tell me the truth. He gave me the divorce papers. That must mean your chess game is over earlier than expected, right? And he told me you will tell me the truth once it is.”

Her father leaned forward and looked at her patiently, confusion flashing on his face at her mention of the chess game but he did not ask about it. Instead, he sighed and held her gaze. “I was in deep, serious trouble last year. I made deals with the wrong people and before I knew it, I was trapped. It was never in my plan to be tangled with such dangerous people.”

“Dangerous?”

“At first I didn’t know. They just came to me and asked if I would be willing to provide them with a packing service .”

“What do you mean, dad? You sell plastics for a living.”

“I was,” he said, “Until last year when I said yes to these guys and packed their goods for them.”

Cassandra stared at her father in disbelief. Her eyes widened and she hissed, “You’re telling me there are illegal goods inside your plastics?”

“It was too late when I found out,” her father hissed back, his face red.

“What the hell, dad!” she cried out, horrified.

Her father looked away from her guiltily. “I didn’t know! It was only when I noticed a lot of discrepancies with the product shipping that I started investigating. And when the result of such investigation came, I was already in serious trouble.”

“Dad,” she said, leaning forward, her voice a whisper, “are you telling me you worked with people like the Mafia?”

Her father just stared at her.

“Oh my god. They were the mafia? The freaking mafia?”

“Keep your voice down,” her father ordered. He looked around before he leaned closer. “Not the Mafia, but another fast-growing organized crime.”

“Oh my God. That does not make it any better!”

“I know.”

“And where does Philip fit in in all this?”

Her father’s eyes faltered before he sighed. “Strindberg Enterprises owns a shipping company.”

Cassandra groaned and slumped lower in her seat. “Great. Just great. What a great strike of luck!”

“Philip realized the problem and was about to report to the authorities but I begged him not to.”

Cassandra groaned again. “Can this get any worse?”

Her father ignored her. “If he did that, I’d be going down with everyone else, Cassandra. And so I approached him and asked for a bargain.”

“What bargain?”

Kurt Anders swallowed his beer before he continued. “At first he refused, saying he has his own people and that I can go to hell.”

“Typical Philip, of course,” she wryly noted.

“But one day he called me up and his tone changed. He said he needed my help after all.”

She frowned. “How?”

Her father shrugged. “It seems that the men I have been working with have been under the government’s radar and the man Philip is working with wants everything they he can get to wipe the group clean. They’ve been able to slip through their fingers for lack of concrete proof of their organized crimes.”

Finally everything dawned on her and she slowly nodded. “And you are the only one close enough to give the good guys what they need.”

His father nodded. “And so I bargained with Philip. I give them what they want but in return he takes you in as his wife.”

“To keep me safe?”

“That and to keep the men we work with from suspecting our every move. They’ve been watching Philip closely but if Philip took you in as his wife, he is marrying into our family and my bad business. He will be in too deep with no escape.”

Cassandra scoffed. “Ah, the psychology of bad business. You should write a book about it. You guys seem to be the expert on the field.”

Her father did not appreciate her sarcasm. “I did everything I could to keep you and your mother safe. And save the business.”

“And Philip did what he did to save his own. Great teamwork!” When her father remained silent, she asked, “Are those the guys you talked with in the party? The bad business partners?”

He nodded.

“Great,” she said, shaking her head. “And Henry Bell is the good guy from the government?”

He nodded again.

“Wow. Glad I did not get any spoilers. This fucking story is amazing!”

She finally understood everything. Philip’s obsession on keeping her locked inside his home and on shadowing her around. He was simply keeping his end of the bargain.

Cassandra was silent for a very long time. Her father looked at her, anxiously waiting.

“I don’t see why you couldn’t tell me this months ago,” she finally said, her voice free of any hint of whatever she was feeling. Scratch that—she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything because she was numb. “I could have helped you more than just blindly getting married to someone.”

“What could you have done, Cassandra? I couldn’t do anything back then. Philip entered into a business deal with the people I worked with. It was too late when he found out. When he did, everything just went crazy and I had to choose which side to play with. I chose his. His friend works for the government and they needed my help. I could give them everything they need to throw the organization to prison but I did not agree to help unless you and your mother were safe. Marrying into the Strindbergs was the best solution at that point both for Philip and our family.

“If it was not for his friend, we could have ended up in jail because everything pointed back to us. It took a lot of professional skills to wipe my slate clean and throw those bastards in prison. It is not even coming out in the news because that is how serious those people are.”

“No, it is not coming in the news because it will be bad for both you and Philip. Your businesses will suffer after such big mess,” she corrected.

Honestly, she was tired. She was too tired to reason with her dad. She was tired of waiting. She had been waiting for Dennis to wake up for two years. She had been waiting for her dad to trust her with the truth. She had been waiting for Philip to…to what? Do something for them? He had done enough.

Why would he? He just solved the biggest business obstacle and now he was back in action!

“But are you sure everything’s okay now? No bad guys will come knocking on our doors for vengeance?”

Her father nodded his head before he finished his beer. “They’re still doing some surveillance. It will last for a couple more weeks. Don’t worry, they are pretty good people you will barely know they are there.”

“You mean there are people lurking outside my home right now checking if I am still alive?”

“Checking is the right word.” Her father stared at her intently and she immediately knew what was coming. “You left Philip’s house. We agreed that he’ll keep you safe for six months.”

“I left because I wanted to and because he served me the divorce papers. What do you think I should have done? Demanded that I get his house and kick him out instead?”

The slight twitch on her father’s mouth surprised her.

“You’re laughing at me. Why?”

“I never actually thought you’d learn to love the man, Cassandra.”

“Come on, dad. You are the only person who knows that’s impossible.”

“Then why do you look like a mess?”

She arched her eyebrow. “You think I look like this because of Philip?” she asked in feign horror. “These,” she said, pointing at the dark circles under her eye with two fingers, “are the products of months living with that man and being manipulated by the both of you!”

Kurt Anders just smiled at her. “Let me know if the two of you plan to tell everyone about our secret. I want to make sure that your mother will not have a heart attack.”

“There’s no use. We can just go with it as planned. We continue on with the divorce and no one will have to see each other again.”

“The Strindbergs will demand for an explanation. And your mother deserves to know the truth. She has been thinking of baby names lately.”

“Oh God,” she groaned. “But shouldn’t you be the one to tell them everything? You and Philip?”

Her father just smiled. He took out some bills and stood up. “Just tell me if the two of you decide to tell everyone the truth.”

“You’re part of this too, aren’t you? Why would you live that to us?”

Kurt Anders shrugged his shoulders and looked down at his daughter with amusement. “Because you might choose to live the lie?”

Her father left her in the pub feeling even more confused and angry. That was it? They had some beers and he told her the truth and he was gone? Just like that?

What the hell!

---

By the time she finally calmed down—more like became numb—she finally decided to leave. Leave like work. Work like teaching children how to paint somewhere. Somewhere like far away. Away like no freaking Mafia-like groups. Away like no Philip.

No Philip meant no family to deal with and lie to. No Philip meant starting all over again.

Going away would be the only thing that could take her mind off him. And that would be the only thing that she could make it hard for him to reach her to serve her another set of divorce papers.

He could chase her all he wanted, but she was not staying to wait for him to hand her the papers. He’d have to go after her, she thought.

Only Toni, her manager, knew where she would be going. Her mother didn’t have any idea—for all she cared, they still thought she would be back in that blasted house with her husband. Harrison was quite busy with his work, so she did not bother sharing the news.

Cassandra knew what she was doing was close to running away, but she didn’t care. She had to get away to think, to be with herself in a place she felt at home. Of course it was not like being home with Philip, but it was the closest thing.

She was packing her bag late the night before she was to leave when she heard something crack from the living room. She stiffened, ready to hide behind the door of her bedroom. Her defensive instinct to be safe was in full throttle all of a sudden.

If his father and Philip thought that they won the game against those men, then they might just be wrong.

She searched her room for her phone and realized she left it in the kitchen. Shit.

What should she do now?

Slowly, she made her way to the door to listen. It could just be a cat, she hoped. But cats don’t have footsteps like humans, right?

And that was when she heard hissing and angry whispers. What the hell, more than one intruder? How the hell could I handle that?

Part of her mind wanted the intruder to be Philip because, if that were so, she knew she would not be in danger. He would be in danger with what she could physically do to him with her nails, her feet, her teeth and even the kitchen knife. But the angry whispers told her it was not her husband.

She was in the process of thinking if she should attack or grab her phone to call the police when she heard a very distinct voice she recognized.

“What the hell, we can shout all we want here. Why are we whispering anyway? Cassandra’s not home. She’s with Philip.”

What the hell! Angelica? Cassandra couldn’t believe it. How did the lady know she lived here?

“Shut up and be quiet. We can’t be too careless. This was your fault,” a familiar voice replied, not bothering to whisper.

Henry? Henry Bell?

Okay, so she didn’t know the guy that well but she was sure it was him. If it was in a better circumstance, she would be in the phone calling Chanty to confirm the gossip.

“What? It’s my fault? Who almost got killed if I didn’t save him? Was it me? No, mister, it was you,” Angelica retorted.

Without hesitating, Cassandra opened her bedroom door and said, “What the hell are you two doing inside my house?”

She heard Angelica gasp and Henry, who was sitting on a chair, his form silhouetted by the darkness of the room, his left hand grasping his right shoulder, shot to his feet in a fighting stance. Cassandra was taken aback. Henry Bell looked exactly how Chanty painted him to be weeks ago. Cassandra saw met the man merely twice: on her wedding day and her father’s birthday party. And on both occasions she had never imagined him to be looking haggard, full of sweat, wearing dirty shirt and torn pants, and his hair looked like he came from cleaning chimneys.

“Cassandra!” Angelica exclaimed. She turned her eyes away from Henry and took a step back with shock when she saw the red-haired mess standing there beside the man.

“Angelica, what the hell happened to you?”

“Let me explain—” Henry started, but Angelica cut him off, saying, “We need your help now that you’re here,” as she brushed her messy—with specks of ashes—hair away from her face.

She never noticed that her mouth had fallen open. She shook her head, trying to test if she was just dreaming. “What the hell is going on? Henry, are you hurt?” She peered through the darkness to see his face.

Anyone could easily point out that he was. His hand was covered with blood! Yeah, it was dark but she was pretty sure it was blood dripping down his hand.

“No, I’m fine,” he obviously lied.

“No, you’re not,” Angelica snapped at him. “Look,” her friend walked forward. The torn white pants, the boots and the bloody gray shirt were scandalous for Angelica’s standard. “Cass, we can’t explain everything. I don’t even know if I understand the whole thing myself, but I—we—really need you to keep this thing to yourself. Don’t tell anyone about what you saw, or what you are about to see. Please.”

Cassandra just stood there for a long time before she finally nodded, her thoughts not muddled but completely empty. “If you don’t tell anyone you saw me here,” she negotiated.

Angelica’s curiosity took over. “And why are you here again? I thought you are married and living with Philip?”

“It’s complicated,” she answered, not willing to give out that much information.

“Angelica,” Henry called out, his black eyes seriously telling the two ladies that he was hurting.

“Yes, yes, I’ll get to it!” Angelica snapped at him and looked back at Cassandra. “I need hot water, clean towels, and a first aid kit.”

“Uh, sure,” was all Cassandra had for an answer. Her mind was still adapting to the sudden events inside her home—and the look of the two people who intruded inside it—when she made her way to the bathroom to get what Angelica asked for.

“Hey, stop whining like a baby,” Angelica was saying when Cassandra got back with everything. Her friend was in the process of trying to cut Henry’s shirt with the kitchen scissors.

“Why do you have to cut it? Are you crazy? I don’t have a spare shirt!”

“Are you the doctor here?’ Angelica asked him.

Cassandra was getting startled as seconds clicked by. She never saw Henry acting like that, never imagined it. He had always been cool and collected.

A thought crossed her mind about what her father told her yesterday. One of Philip’s friends had helped her father with his business troubles with the bad guys (she could never bear to call them the Mafia because it sounded something snatched out of a freaking movie). And he confirmed it was Henry Bell.

So he is not one of the bad guys? He’s from the government?

And what about Angelica? Why was she with him? She never saw Angelica so out of poise and dirty except that time when she arrived smelling like garbage before Willie’s party.

“Where have you two been and why are you—oh my God, you’re shot!” She cried out in horror when she finally saw Henry’s shoulder.

Okay, Henry was definitely working for the action-packed department of the government. But which one?

“Yes, he is. Now, stop asking questions,” Angelica told her, taking the towels from her hand.

“What the hell, this is really crazy!”

“Yeah, that’s the first thing that came to my mind when I found out,” Angelica said sarcastically.

“Found out what?”

“Cass, please, no questions.”

“Okay, okay,” she placed the basin on the nearest table and went to where the switches for the lights were. “How can you work with that wound if the lights are out?” she asked, about to raise her hand to turn on the switch.

“No!” both her visitors cried in unison.

“No lights,” Henry ordered.

“Yes, no lights, Cass,” Angelica agreed.

“This is really getting weird, you know that?”

“Tell me about it,” Angelica said, rolling her eyes, back to working Henry’s wound.

“Since you two are not so glad to talk about what’s been going on, I think I’ll go back to my task. Just call me when you need something.” She had to get away to think and collect her thoughts.

“Thanks, Cass,” Angelica said gratefully.

“Thank you,” Henry was able to utter through clenched teeth. “Means a lot,” he added with a wink.

Okay, maybe he was still the Henry Bell she knew him to be after all. Or not.

---

“Hey,” Angelica peeked in her doorway as she was about to close her suitcase. Her friend frowned when she saw what she was doing. “You’re leaving?”

Cassandra did not answer. “You need fresh clothes? I have some in my closet if you want. You look like hell, Ange,” she retorted instead, changing the topic.

“Did you and Philip fight? Why are you here?” Angelica entered her room looking serious. She had dirt on her cheek. She looked like hell.

“Something like that,” she answered. “So, fresh clothes?”

Angelica nodded and she was grateful she did not ask anything further.

Inside her closet, Cassandra fought the urge to cry. It was the first time in weeks that she actually had someone she could talk to if she wanted. And how she wanted to do that right now!

Angelica might not be the perfect person to cry on, but she was the closest person to a friend right now.

“Hey, are you okay?” Angelica asked with concern.

“No, no, I’m not,” she sniffed, grabbing a white shirt and a pair of pants. “Do you need some socks or something?”

“Cass, what’s going on with Philip? I can’t believe you’re actually crying right now.”

“I’m not crying.”

“Yes you are,” Angelica insisted, grabbing her by the shoulder and turned her around to face her. “Yes, you definitely are.”

“He served me with divorce papers,” she finally blurted out, and the moment she did, the tears rolled down.

“He what?”

“He served me with divorce papers. You’re not deaf, are you?” she pushed the shirt toward Angelica and walked out from the closet.

“Why the hell would he do that?”

“It’s a long story and I don’t want to talk about it,” she answered, sitting on her bed.

Angelica approached her with a frown. “You weren’t stupid to sign them, were you?”

“Of course I didn’t sign them.”

“Then what did you do?”

She told her what she did and Angelica laughed. “You did what?”

“And now I think he’s angry and any time soon, I expect he’ll deliver me another set of papers, probably tear-and-burn-free.”

“That’s why you’re running away,” Angelica pointed out, looking at her suitcase.

“Whatever the hell it means, I have to go. I just need to think and be away for now.”

“Where will you go?”

“Somewhere,” she shrugged. The two of them were silent for a while, and then Cassandra smiled. “I guess you will get your chance when I get to sign those papers.”

“Oh, don’t be stupid,” Angelica huffed. She pointed over her shoulder at the door with her thumb, “That guy out there whimpering in pain is my new target.”

“Uh, I hope he’s not a target for you to shoot. You didn’t shoot him, right?”

“Of course I didn’t! But I would not hesitate shooting him again if it means saving his life,” Angelica said seriously, which made Cassandra even more curious. But she knew better than to ask.

“You’re not in grave danger, are you?”

“Huh, well, not when you think to the extreme,” Angelica said, taking a step toward the bathroom. “When it’s all over, I’m going to tell you all about it. But you better be around when I do that. You have to get back soon, Cass. You have to fight.” Angelica’s blue eyes were strong as she said that.

Cassandra sighed and nodded. Whatever was going on between Angelica and Henry, it was bigger than a crazy divorce, she thought. She envied Angelica’s courage. She knew she was capable of it, but she couldn’t make a fool of herself around Philip. She had done enough and it was time he acted if he was intending to keep her. But on the other hand Philip might choose to be alone as he had always planned.

So she’d let him, but she would not give him such an easy way out.

He would have to chase her if he wanted those papers signed.

---

While waiting for Angelica, she walked out of the room to find Henry sitting in the same chair.

“So,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, “When does your client plan to send me a fresh batch of divorce papers.”

Henry cleared his throat and smiled. “I heard about what you did. My secretary sent a new one yesterday, I believe.”

Cassandra let out a sardonic laugh. “Great.”

Henry was looking at her, eyes knowing, but did not say a word.

She looked at his freshly bandaged shoulder. “Did that come from the same bad guys who are my father and Philip’s bad guys?” she asked.

His brows rose in surprise. “You know.”

“Enough, but not all the sensitive details. My father told me.”

Henry sighed. He shook his head and said, “No, this one is from a bunch of different bad guys.”

Cassandra’s eyes narrowed at him. “What do you really do, Henry?”

Henry just smiled. “I’m a lawyer.”

Cassandra arched her brow.

“Along with another full-time job I can’t tell you about.”

“Why is Angelica with you?”

“Client confidentiality, Cassandra, that’s all you need to know.”

“Henry, if she is in danger, if she is—”

“She will not be in danger,” he interjected. “It’s my job to keep it that way.”

“I don’t see you doing it very well.”

“It’s because she is one hell of a woman.”

“She is, isn’t she?”

He shook his head as if in disbelief. “You don’t have any idea.”

A long silence followed before Henry said, “I heard you are leaving.”

She shrugged.

“Running away?”

“No,” she snapped, “I enrolled in this very terrific program in another country and I have to be there.”

“Program?”

“Yeah,” she said, turning away. “They train people how to sign fucking divorce papers,” she wryly added before walking away.

---

Philip was stared hard at Cassandra’s piece of artwork before him.

And he scoffed.

Then he started to shake his head.

Everything was over now. The trial would end sooner because that was what the Henry’s agency wanted. They wanted it to be over before the media picked up on it, which was good for both Kurt Anders and Philip. Their businesses would not have to suffer the bad publicity.

He should be ecstatic. He should be in his study making conference calls.

But he was not because he still had to deliver a fresh batch of divorce papers to his wife.

His phone rang and he picked it up.

“Hello?” he asked, realizing his voice sounded tired. When was the last time he had a proper sleep? He could not remember.

“You moron!” Angelica’s voice boomed from the other end. He took his phone off his ear to confirm. It was really Angelica calling. He replaced his phone to his ear just in time to hear her say, “Your wife is going to fly out to nowhere and you’re still home? She’s leaving at eight for the airport so you better get your ass out of that house or I’ll come chasing you around again!”

And then she clicked off.

Philip frowned. And then Angelica’s words sank in.

Shit.

He stood to his feet and grabbed the divorce papers.

And then he called for a taxi.

---

Angelica and Henry left before sunrise. Cassandra hoped they’d be safe because she knew they were in deep trouble even if they wouldn’t say it.

Toni dropped by to give her the tickets she asked for and to tell her good luck after promising she wouldn’t tell a soul about her departure. She borrowed Toni’s car and drove to the airport. Her manager would deliver Philip’s car herself.

She was a bit too early for her flight so she went to a café and called some people. She was going back to the Philippines and was planning for a longer stay. The warm weather would help, she thought.

After talking with Gilmer, she checked her watch. She still had an hour left before boarding. This must be the most punctual day she ever had! Her phone rang and thinking it was Gilmer calling about something he forgot, she answered the phone.

“Hey, did you forget something?”

“No, I think you forgot something,” Philip’s irritated voice said from the other end. Shocked, Cassandra withdrew the phone from her ear and checked the screen. Shit. “Cassandra,” she heard his voice float in the air. She held the phone back to her ears.

“What?”

“You forgot something,” he reiterated.

“Those damned papers? Oh, yeah, leave them with Toni.”

“Where the hell are you?”

“Like I’m telling you where I am,” she scoffed.

“I know where you are. What I want to know is where you are exactly.”

Wait, he knew where she was? Cassandra turned off her phone and panicked.

Hide, her first instinct told her. She grabbed her bags and stood up. She could hide in the bathroom. He couldn’t get in there. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

Cassandra closed her eyes. Shoot. What the hell! How did he find her that fast?

She continued to walk on though as if she did hear him. “Cassandra,” his voice called out behind her.

I’m not hearing this. I’m not hearing this,

s he said over and over again like a mantra. Should she run? She could run and he wouldn’t be able to catch her because he was in crutches.

But before she could do that, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and that strong electric energy ran through her once again. With anger, she whirled around and faced him. “What?” Then she saw that he was standing there without his crutches. She looked down and saw that he was wearing shoes. “Oh, great, you can walk now,” she said, disappointed.

No running, she guessed.

“Where are you going?” he asked with a frown. His face looked cleaner. He probably found time to shave after all. And his hair, though still in a mess, looked fresher than the last time. Okay, so he could take care of himself. That’s great. Great for him.

“It’s none of your business,” she snapped, shoving his hand off her shoulder.

“You forgot something,” he said, reaching inside his brown jacket.

Cassandra knew what he was talking about and it hurt. That same wrenching in her heart started to ache just like the last time. But she fought it. She fought it hard.

Fine, she couldn’t enjoy watching him chasing after her to get her to sign the papers, but maybe this was for the best. Maybe signing those damned papers would make things easier for the both of them.

He seemed eager to get her out of his life despite her hopeful thoughts. She was going to give him what he wanted—after all, that was what she wanted in the very first place when she met him, right? Oh, yes, those days when she wanted him to suffer for what he did to her, those days when she was begging to have a divorce. But no matter how she urged herself to think that way, now was different because she wanted him now. She would have jumped with joy when he gave her the divorce papers earlier in their marriage, but now was too late to be that happy.

When his hands came out and reappeared, he was holding papers. Well, what did you expect? A ring? Come on, of course they were divorce papers!

Maybe another certificate of a star named after her? Well, it was not, because when Cassandra snatched the papers from his hand and opened them, they were the exact same thing she tore and made into a collage two weeks earlier.

She refused to look at her husband and read the first page. She saw the letters but she was not really reading the words. How could she when she could barely hold herself together? “Well, I guess you were fast enough to catch me,” she said, feigning nonchalance. “Where do I sign?” she asked, tasting the hurt and the bitterness in her tongue.

“Everywhere your name is,” he answered in a neutral tone.

Cassandra nodded, dropped her bags and walked back to the table she was sitting at earlier. She fumbled for a pen in her shoulder bag, her hands shaking, her tears pooling her eyes. She couldn’t cry. It would definitely smudge the papers and he would see it and he would laugh at her.

“I have a pen,” he offered his gold Parker. How wonderful to stab him with it, she thought. But she was no psychopath so she turned it so the tip appeared and bent over the table, her vision blurred by the tears she was fighting hard not to fall. “You can sit down,” he suggested.

Really? He thought she should sit down? Could she just stab him with the pen and not go to jail instead?

“No, I’m…” she cleared her throat while looking hardly at the first page, trying to find her name. “I’m fine,” she blurted out rather weakly. She wanted to know what he did to her collage, but she didn’t dare ask. He probably threw it away to a passing garbage truck like a flying saucer.

Her hands shook as she moved her hand over her printed name and she pressed the tip of the paper to stop them from shaking.

And then she signed. She had signed numerous documents. She had signed canvases, sketch pads and contracts without shaking. Heck, she signed their wedding documents without a trace of tears! But this, this was different.

She blamed her father for a passing second. It was all because of him and his stupid company. She would not be in this pain if he didn’t give her away to this man standing beside her, watching her sign her divorce papers.

She let her dark blonde tresses fall from her shoulders so they covered her face. They veiled the hurt and she was glad for that.

You fought the fight, Cassandra, and it’s okay if you yield, her mind comforted her. You knew this was coming. You talked about it. You wanted to divorce a lover and you did. You enjoyed it while it lasted.

She signed the rest of the papers in haste. Her knees were going to give up on her any moment soon. Her breathing was getting shorter and she had to get away from Philip.

After signing the last piece of paper, she dropped the pen and straightened, her head still bent as she pretended to straighten her coat and looked for the rest of her bags. Then she saw her ring. She tore it off her finger and placed it beside his pen, feeling like she left a great part of herself right on that table. “Goodbye, Philip,” she whispered and turned around.

She briskly walked to her bags and grabbed them.

Leave, that strong voice ordered as a tear finally escaped her eye. Knowing Philip couldn’t possibly see, she hastily wiped her eyes clear and held her head high.

She started to walk with a heavy heart, the pang in her chest increasing in intensity.

“Where are you going?” he asked behind her.

How dare he? Shouldn’t he be skipping his way back home with those damned freaking papers? “Somewhere,” she said over her shoulder and walked on.

“But we’re not done yet,” he followed after her.

“I signed the papers, what else do you want?” It seemed she was more courageous talking with her back facing him, walking away. “Go skip away with your new ankle,” she ordered.

He grabbed her hand and whirled her around. “We’re not done yet—” his words were left hanging as he received the impact of her bag against his shoulder. She was too pissed and too angry not to hit him with it. “Hey!” he blocked her next attack with an arm. “Do you have to hit—”

“Yes! Because I want you to hurt so badly!” she almost screamed.

He grabbed her other hand to stop her from hitting him once again and looked her in the eyes, “We’re not done yet,” he repeated.

“Yes, we are. You made sure of that, you moron,” she hissed, pulling at her hands but he wouldn’t let go. “Let go of me or I swear I’ll do something and you’ll be using those crutches again!”

“Calm down,” he ordered. “I said I’m not done yet, okay?”

“What the hell, Philip, what else do you want—” she stopped in mid-sentence as he went down on his knees. “What the hell are you doing?” she looked around to see if anybody was watching, but it seemed that people were too busy to care.

“Just shut the hell up, Cass, and let me propose,” he said with etch of irritation.

“People are staring and you’re down on your knees. Are you crazy? I signed the damned papers like you want me to so just leave and—” she stopped when his words finally sank in her brain. “What? What did you say?”

Philip nervously grinned up at her and shook his head. “I said, shut the hell up and let me propose properly this time.”

“But—”

“No buts, Cassandra.”

“But why?” she asked anyway.

“Because I want to. I want you to be my wife.”

“I was your wife not one minute ago,” she corrected. She was at a loss. It felt like everything stopped. The tears, the pain, even the hope. They were all gone.

“Yes, that’s true, but that was you being my transient wife,” he said. When he saw the look on her face, he sighed. He stood up and continued, “Do you get what I mean?”

“Honestly, no. This is really crazy, Philip. I’m not up for some joke here, so let me go.”

“I’m not joking. I’m seriously proposing to you,” he said with amusement.

“You just forced me to sign those damned divorce papers, you moron!”

“So that I can propose to you,” he uttered, grabbing her by the shoulder, “so that we can arrange a real wedding together, so that you can choose your own dress, choose any food you like, invite as many people as you want—hell, you can even handle the honeymoon arrangements again.” He looked at her with pleading in his blue eyes, swallowed, and continued, “I’m proposing so that we can have a real proposal story to tell everyone, so that we don’t have to lie anymore. I’m proposing without some damned contract because I’m in love with you.”

Her heart skipped a beat and she wanted to jump with joy. This was the moment she had been dreaming about. He was here, pouring his heart out like a humbled king and she couldn’t help but say, “Do you think it’s rather late for that?” she asked.

“What?” he asked, shock and irritation showing on his handsome face. “Isn’t this what you want or did I get your message wrong?”

“No, you did not, but,” she punched him then right on the chest, “you took your precious time!”

“Stop that!” he rubbed his chest and winced. “I was busy with my therapy. As you can see I had my cast off,” he explained.

“You having your leg back was way important than getting me back?” she asked, feigning horror. She was actually just getting accustomed to the different emotions getting back inside her system. Joy, happiness, love, irritation, frustration—everything that came out of Pandora’s Box was now coming home and it felt good.

“No, but having to gain back my ability to run after you was way more important. You have this tendency to run off, I understand.” He smiled, pulling her close to him. “So, are you going to marry me or not?”

“We can just tear those damned papers. I don’t need to undergo some marriage ritual once again,” she pointed out.

He shook his head. “That will be impossible. You have to marry me again or do you want me to seek your father for another contract?”

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes as he chuckled and leaned closer. Just when their lips were about to meet, she leaned away from him and said, “Our proposal story didn’t include me crying, okay?”

“Sure,” he smiled naughtily, “we can just tell them you were crying before I proposed which was true.”

She slapped him on the arm, “No, I wasn’t!” she lied.

“Yes, you were. I was fighting not to laugh.” And he stopped her protests with his lips.

---

Telling everyone about the secret was no easy task.

Cassandra had to tell Chanty first because she was younger which meant that her heart was healthy. Chanty was surprised but not angry. Her ex-and-future-sister-in-law actually found the story romantic if not crazy. Cassandra was not planning to tell Angelica at first, but since she promised her the last time they met and because she was a doctor and her professional suggestions would be of great help, she decided to let the lady in on the secret.

Angelica was on some kind of road trip with Henry and she went back after Chanty’s urgent call and it took Cassandra a great time to make her believe the story.

Once the two ladies were over with their shock, they waited and planned on how to tell the rest, meaning the older folks whose hearts could give up on them any moment. It was Angelica’s idea to keep an ambulance at bay just in case and since she was a doctor, she had to be there when Cassandra, Philip and Kurt told everyone the truth. Cassandra was almost sure her friend was there to witness the drama more than being concerned.

They reserved a private room in a restaurant near the hospital where Angelica worked and spilled the beans.

There were a lot of hands clutching their chests when Philip finally dropped the bomb, but nothing fatal happened. And then there were more angry outbursts. And then concern when Kurt did his part and told everyone about his secret.

It took them almost five hours to explain everything and around two days to be forgiven which only happened after Philip announced that he and Cassandra would renew their vows for real. Her mother was the first to call saying she understood why they did what they did.

She knew that their lies would be brought back every now and then if times were bad but it was part of the price they had to pay for fooling the old folks.

Unlike last time, Cassandra had the honor to choose everything for the wedding though in a rush. She didn’t choose The Plaza—she wanted a small wedding with just their close friends and family to witness the little affair. Philip agreed to go back to the Philippines and have a beach wedding, only after making her promise that she would not dare ride a boat for some island hopping without him.

A week after his proposal, they flew everyone to the island in Boracay and had their wedding barefooted at dawn, the orange sky showered its own special blessing as—once again—they became husband and wife. Chanty came with Willie and Angelica. Henry Bell was still there as Philip’s best man, but neither he or Angelica showed any sign that they were in any kind of trouble. Cassandra just hoped that Angelica would be able to tell her everything soon, because honestly, she was nervous for them—and greatly curious.

Everyone went flying back to New York after the wedding whilst the two newlyweds stayed behind for another honeymoon.

“Well, it was a fun wedding,” Philip exhaled loudly, closing his eyes, wrapping his arms around her. They were lying in their bed—the same one they had the first time they were there—still fully clothed, just marveling at the fact that finally they were really married for good.

No contract, no transient stay. Finally, both of them had something permanent—each other.

Epilogue

Two years later…

“Babe!” Philip heard his wife’s voice from upstairs. He ignored it, suspecting she’d make excuses for the laundry.

“Babe!”

Oh, oh, her voice was getting louder—and nearer.

He loved his wife like hell, but sometimes she just hit a special nerve especially when he was trying to review reports and busy talking business.

“Philip!”

Being married to Cassandra for more than two years now told him he’d be in trouble if she called him by his name the second time.

“Coming…” he muttered, sighing as he stood up from his chair. For the past months, his patience was a little bit longer because he was trying to understand her condition and he was starting to wonder if he could stretch it just a bit more.

His office door burst open and his wife walked in, glaring at him.

He acted like he never heard her. “Babe, you’re glaring at me like a tiger. It’s not good for pregnant women to brood.”

He saw her squint her eyes at him, “I called you like three times already.”

“I didn’t hear,” he lied. He also learned from her that white lies weren’t that bad. Well, sometimes. “Why? What’s wrong?”

He noticed that her face was a little different, like she was in pain. “My water just broke,” she said, and he knew she was just trying to be calm, and she was doing a good job at it. He, on the other hand, couldn’t. He jumped and ran toward her, his hands held out as if she’d fall over any time soon.

It seemed that all those days of training on how to help your wife undergo labor suddenly flew out the window. “What do we do? I thought you’re not due until next week!” He looked down at the big bulge in front of his wife. Their child was in there and was about ready to come out.

“Oh, okay, so you want to wait until next week? Let’s reschedule, shall we?” she asked sarcastically, breathing through her teeth. “You better get me to the hospital now or I swear I’m gonna kill you.”

He panicked and almost ran to the door when he remembered he had to bring his wife. He turned around and walked back to her and did the only thing that was in his mind. He swept her off her feet and carried her out the door and to the car.

“The bag, where’s the bag?” she asked.

“It’s already in the car,” he answered.

“Then let’s go!” she screamed once again.

“Don’t yell, babe,” he tried to tell her gently as he strapped the seatbelt over her.

“Oh God, it hurts. I hate you for this…”

“What?” he asked incredulously.

“I’m divorcing you if you don’t get me to the hospital now!”

“Okay!” he shut the door and circled around the car. “God!” he cried in frustration before opening the driver’s side.

If he knew it would be this difficult, he would not have agreed to have a baby. They were doing great for the past two years. They could have always borrowed Willie who was now around four and already a pain in the ass and Chanty would gladly just say yes.

He drove as fast as he could. He cringed every time he heard his wife whimper in pain. He couldn’t stand to see her that way, and when he saw a tear roll down her cheek, he almost cursed.

His greatest weakness was her tears. Just like that day in the airport when she was signing those divorce papers, just like that night when she told him about her past, and that day when he found her on that island after being stuck there for half a day.

Her tears affected him greatly because she was the kind who was strong enough to hide them. She would not shed those precious liquid if she could help it.

---

They reached the hospital in no time and Philip completely ignored the guard’s shouts about his car which he left in the driveway. He just threw his keys at the guy and ran with the wheelchair that a nurse was pushing, carrying his wife.

“It’s gonna be alright, babe. I’m here.”

“You better,” Cassandra said in between breaths. “Oh God, this is your entire fault.”

Philip ignored his wife’s last remark, too busy worrying about the pain she was going through—and about to go through. “Do an epidural,” he ordered the doctor.

“No epidural. I can do this without that,” Cassandra disagreed stubbornly.

“You’re in pain.” He turned to the doctor who looked confused. “Do it.”

“But—” the doctor started.

“Don’t listen to him!” Cassandra breathed out, grunting in pain. Philip hated seeing and hearing her that way.

“Dr. Peterson will be here any moment. You two can talk to her about it,” the doctor finally found his voice.

“I’m not going through an epidural and that’s it!”

Philip tried to keep his cool. He brushed his hand through his dark brown hair in frustration. “You’re impossible,” he muttered under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he answered. “I said we’ll do whatever you want.”

---

Cassandra wasn’t fully dilated yet, so they still had to wait for a few more hours which was difficult for Philip. He couldn’t stay still, but he held her hand whenever she suffered a contraction.

“I bet it’s a boy,” he tried to distract her by engaging into a conversation. They chose not to be told about the baby’s sex so they would have a big surprise.

“I want a girl,” Cassandra smiled faintly for the first time.

Philip knew having two Cassandra would be difficult to deal with, but it would be worth it. Anything Cassandra gave him would be as full of life.

Though his practical mind told him she’d be perfectly fine, he couldn’t help but pray despite himself for her to be okay. He couldn’t lose her now when everything in his life was right.

If he looked back now, he couldn’t imagine being back to those days of being by himself. Those days when she left after he gave her the divorce papers were mostly spent in frustrations. And that day when she returned them into pieces made into a collage of a tent was the most gratifying of all. He never thought that his then transient wife would have wanted to be with him and as always, she surprised him by declaring something he had been longing for in her own artistic, proud way.

Yes, those days he thought he liked—being by himself—was peace and quiet, but when he took Cassandra for his wife, he had something else. He had what they called a beautiful mess.

---

Hours later, Jean Philip Strindberg greeted the world with a sharp cry. His little face was more than enough to ease both his parent’s pain—Cassandra’s labor ones and Philip’s stinging hand his wife had been gripping through the process.

Philip cradled his son with an overwhelming heart and took him close to his wife for her to see. He couldn’t help the pooling of tears in his eyes as he looked at mother and son. He kissed his wife’s flushed cheek and said, “You did great, babe. I’m so proud of you. Thank you. You lost the bet though. I told you it is going to be a boy,” he grinned.

“Yeah,” she nodded, looking at their son with love in her eyes, and when she looked up to him, that loving look turned to something different and intense but pretty much the same. And Philip knew she saw the same in his. “And I love you too,” she whispered.

That moment, Philip’s chest wanted to burst. They might not have the baby girl she wanted, but they had a son who would love her as much as he loved her.

It would be one hell of a ride, but he knew he and his son would have the time of their lives because Cassandra Anders Strindberg was and would remain to be one hell of an adventure.

---

Check out other works from the same author:

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/4a8a553e3f4dac3ba2ba82ddbbddd27c7339894b/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f55667861456d58522d55536f48513d3d2d313633343239372e313638333735356361336135383337663933333835353937383533342e706e67)

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/cb8330c4a657d1d0afd60bfadfedbfc075bf0278/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f445a3238375370395f41643461673d3d2d313633343239372e313638333735356466663035356539353833333236323536343534392e706e67)