by Tara Frejas
“Oh, no. I’m sorry. What did she say?”
Pio shrugged. “Nothing a mother concerned about her child wouldn’t say.”
“Did she offer you an envelope?”
He spied the outline of a smirk blossoming on her face. “I refused. I won’t give up on you so easily.”
“A piece of land in Bicol? Half of the family jewels buried underneath our compound?”
“Damn it.” He snapped his fingers. “I knew I should’ve dragged out the negotiations a bit more.”
Her reply was a hearty chuckle Pio wished he could wrap his fingers around and keep in his pocket, to be enjoyed much, much later, when he needed a dose of her. When the lovely sound died down and he lost Audrey to the photographs again, he took a step back and looked at the ceiling. Gallery lights might be nice, he thought. A full row of small, LED lights directed at the wall. She can turn off the main light source and keep the gallery lights on while chilling at the couch, watching movies or simply listening to her Sugarfree albums.
“Uh—I left some frames blank,” Pio said upon seeing her look up at two blank frames on the left side of the wall. “I just placed them there to show you how I laid it out, but you can take them down for now...put them back up again when you want to add new—”
“Overachiever,” she teased. Her eyes glistened with tears though, when she spun around and looked at him. “Thank you, Pio. This is beautiful.”
No, you are.
He reached for her face, knuckles brushing gently over her cheek. “Your sketches were really good, but I thought you needed something else. Something comforting. Something to cheer you up when you come home after a long and tiring day,” he explained. “You are your family’s ligaya, and I know they are yours. But I also know your family’s house is a terribly long commute from work, and I thought perhaps coming home to these smiling faces every day would be a good enough alternative.”
“They are. They’re perfect.”
“Then…” He flashed her an exaggerated smirk and tapped his index finger on his cheek twice. “Some compensation?”
Audrey smacked his arm in response and laughed, the tail end of his favorite sound dying on his lips when she kissed him. Who would know if a comet hit the Earth in those several seconds? All Pio cared about was how good all of it felt—the push and pull of their lips, her slender fingers clutching the back of his head, and his hands around her waist, keeping her in place.
“I missed you too,” he mumbled, the tip of his nose grazing along her cheek.
Audrey playfully poked him in the rib, making him flinch. “I have a question.”
“The answer is yes.”
The soft tapping of nimble fingers on keys roused Pio from his slumber, and the first thing he laid eyes on was Audrey’s smooth leg, partly obscured by the gray shirt she had on.
His shirt.
She was sitting up, back flat against the headboard, typing away on her laptop. Pio wasn’t sure what time it was, but he had half the mind to pull the pillow and laptop away, remind her that it’s the weekend, and maybe convince her to cuddle some more. But he wasn’t about to get slapped for disrupting what looked like serious business (he saw that glint in her eyes), so he inched closer to her and slid an arm over her waist instead.
“Stop watching me on YouTube already,” he teased, burying his nose in her side. He smiled realizing his shirt smelled of her now too. “I’m here. You can stare at me all you want.”
Audrey shoved his face away. “Go back to sleep, Pio. You need some rest.”
“Heyyy, I’ve had a long week, you know.”
“So did I,” she said, eyes still glued on her computer screen. “But I didn’t fall asleep after one round.”
Unable to come up with a suitable comeback, Pio dropped his head against the pillow and pulled the blanket over his head, groaning, “Ah! My fragile masculinity!”
He heard her cackle, felt her weight shift on the mattress until it seemed she had gotten out of bed. Curious, he drew the blanket away from his face, only to utter an oof when Audrey suddenly straddled him. “Jesus Christ, Audrey—don’t do that.”
“What, I’m not even moving!” she declared, and then moved her legs on either side of his blanket-covered torso, as though adjusting herself on a saddle. He could only groan.
Her face disappeared from view when she let herself collapse on his chest. Pio’s arms naturally wrapped themselves around her. “Done working?”
She seemed to contemplate on her reply. “Yeah. All done.”
“Good. So...shall we—”
“So what’s your deal?” She raised her head, her eyes searching his for answers to a question he didn’t quite understand. “Are you really not going to tell me what happened before I left?”
He blinked. “I...told you. I didn’t get signed up for the project.”
“Something tells me there’s more to that story, though.” Audrey propped her chin up in her palm and stared at him, lower lip jutting out a tiny bit. God, how he wanted to kiss her again. “It’s the first time I’ve seen you that dejected. I was worried.”
“Sweet,” he said as he ran a hand up and down her back. “Actually, I lied. I did get the project, but I refused to sign the contract.”
Confusion flickered in her eyes. “Why?”
“They offered me a car with the contract. A car, and a sponsorship.”
It was as if Audrey took offense too, the way prominent creases appeared on her forehead. “What the heck? Did they really think you’d bite? You already have a lot going for you…”
“Apparently, that’s not enough. Apparently, they thought I’d need someone influential to back me up. Just in case.”
His stomach tightened when Audrey abruptly lifted herself off his chest, her full weight now collected somewhere under his navel. She crossed her arms over her chest and demanded he tell her who “they” were. Pio didn’t plan to, but he unwittingly let out a laugh, which only made Audrey more upset.
“What’s so funny?”
He pursed his lips, catching himself before he could blurt out that she looked like an angry kitten. Schooling his expression into something more neutral, he rubbed his hands over her thighs and said, “It’s fine, Audrey. We both know things like this happen. I just—I guess I didn’t think it would happen to me, you know? I wasn’t even asking for much or demanding for something without doing the work required...”
“Oh, Pio. I am so sorry,” she said with a sigh and cozied up to him again. This time, she laid beside him, making a temporary pillow of his arm. She pressed a kiss to his jaw. “You’ll smash through some pretty big doors someday soon, I can feel it.”
Audrey’s sweet voice lingered in his ears as he closed his eyes, teased the corners of his lips until he gave in and smiled. He held her like this for a while, relishing the quiet between them. Because in his head, it was chaos, a mess of words he had been arranging and rearranging since that day at the Alonzo household. The words rose up in his throat like soldiers marching to war, held back only by a latent sort of dread.
“Audrey? Would you...” He paused and cleared his throat.
“I had been thinking of asking you this right before our contract expires, but what if you say no, right? And this is selfish but I really don’t want to spend the holidays feeling bummed about it.”
He inhaled a huge breath and exhaled slowly, like he always did five seconds before doing something life-changing. Like entering the stage for the first time every show night, or filming an important scene with a respected actor. Or telling his mother a painful truth.
“Would you be willing to start something real…with me?” he asked, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he took another deep breath. The words he uttered felt like gravel. Dry and abrasive, leaving his throat hurting. “Y’know…scrap the contract and date each other for real. We don’t have to pick up from where we left. I’ll start over. It’s only proper that I do, right? Because I really like you, Audrey, and I want to give us a try. What do you thin
k?”
Pio’s question was met with silence, and he waited, supposing Audrey still contemplated on her answer. But when the response came in the form of a light snore, he pulled his head back and caught a glimpse of her face. The eyes that gazed at him with concern were now hidden from view, long dark lashes pressed against her puffy eyebags. Her slightly parted mouth made it seem as if sleep caught up with her before she could even utter a word.
Unsure whether to feel relieved or disappointed, Pio sighed and simply pulled her close, adjusting the blanket so it would cover her up as well.
His question would have to wait another day.
TWENTY
H er mind and heart were on overdrive.
Some sarcastic or witty one-liner would’ve come out of her mouth as per usual, but Audrey struggled to come up with anything after hearing what Pio had to say. She was having a difficult time wrapping her head around the fact that Pio wanted to keep playing this part even after the curtains have fallen on their little farce.
Why?
She had signed him up for something that was supposed to be easy and fun and finite. Why would he want to change the rules all of a sudden? When he could get any girl he wanted, why did he want to continue seeing someone who carried along a decade’s worth of baggage?
Closing her eyes, she steadied her breathing and grappled with a million different thoughts. So Pio had admitted to liking her, true. They’ve kissed and have had sex a couple of times, also true. But that hardly meant anything in this day and age. Heck, even a ten-year relationship could fall apart in a snap.
It’ll never work out, Audrey. Stop fooling yourself.
Luigi’s words echoed in her head, potent poison that swam in her consciousness and killed every beautiful thought she kept of him.
She didn’t want him to win, didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of telling her “I told you so,” but somehow, Audrey couldn’t help but think he was right.
Outside of their little charade, she and Pio wouldn’t make sense at all.
PIO: Drive you to work tomorrow?
PIO: I have an audition somewhere in Makati, it’s on the way.
PIO: Or we could have dinner and watch a movie, maybe?
Hey, Universe. Where do I sign up for an endless supply of self-control? was a question that simmered in Audrey’s chest as she stared at the sixteen messages Pio had sent her since the previous morning. She had ignored them all, but she wasn’t sure how long she would be able to hold out.
She needed a break. She needed to not see Pio. For how long, she wasn’t sure.
Or should she just put an end to this completely?
Her face looked especially pale and gaunt today, she noted, staring at her reflection in the dresser mirror. Audrey wanted to laugh. Here she was, almost twenty-nine and still losing sleep over something a boy had said.
Correction, she thought. Pio is not a boy.
Because no boy looked at her like that—like her eyes held the secrets of the universe and he hungered to learn them all. No boy spoke to her like his voice was created for the sole purpose of soothing her weary soul. And no boy kissed her like she was air, or held her like he would drown if he let go.
A row of reds and pinks greeted her when she opened her makeup kit. She chose a lipstick that was a nice enough shade of red, not too bright but not too subdued either, and swiped it evenly over her lips. Suddenly, she was reminded of SFM’s anniversary party and how Pio asked her to leave an incriminating stain on his cheek.
That was the first time her lips touched his skin, the first time she wondered how it would feel to actually kiss him.
A week later, she found he was a wonderful kisser. Among other things.
She grabbed her bag from the bedside table, double-checked if she had all her essentials in there, and slung it over her shoulder as she left the room. Stopping to admire her wall and the happy faces that smiled at her, Audrey found herself conflicted about remembering Pio every time she looked at these framed memories.
That was a thought for another day, she decided. Today’s agenda was formally submitting her two weeks’ notice and starting the turnover process as soon as possible. But just as she was determined to shut Pio out of her mind (and her daily schedule), Audrey opened the door and found him standing there, arm raised in mid-air as though he was about to knock.
“Hey, good morning!” came his cheerful greeting, followed by a doubtful glance at his choice of clothing when she did nothing but stare at him. “Something wrong with what I’m wearing?”
Of course there was nothing wrong with the charcoal coat he wore over his old rose cotton shirt, nor was there anything off about his dark denims and leather shoes. And she had always been a little in love with how he looked with facial hair, so… Wait, did he get a haircut?
“Ah! You noticed!” Pio ran his fingers through his hair. “I have a screen test sometime this week and I had time for a haircut last night. Plus it’s our kids’ recital this weekend, so Kuya Pio needs to look presentable. You’re welcome to watch, by the way—and you can bring Bella too! She’ll enj—”
“What are you doing here?”
Her icy tone put an end to the summer in Pio’s smile, and at that exact moment, Audrey knew she was at the point of no return. You’re supposed to do this soon, anyway, she told herself, hand reaching for her bag strap like it was a friend’s hand she needed to hold.
“Uh, picking you up so I can drive you to work? I texted you...”
“I’m not going to the office.”
“Where are you going then—maybe I could drop you off before I...”
Audrey’s eyes darted to his left arm, which seemed to be hiding something behind his back. He caught her curious stare, and just like that, the light in his eyes sputtered back to life.
“Oh, right! Here...” Pio revealed his left hand, which held a quaint bouquet of bacon roses, held together with brown wax paper and twine. “I found this online—isn’t it awesome? Looks like breakfast bouquets are a thing now.”
“Pio...”
“Here, take it.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” He chuckled, his fine smile lines piercing Audrey’s heart inch by inch. “Are you worried I’ll charge you?”
“Let’s stop here.”
Pio’s jaw grew slack for a fleeting second, replaced by a mild frown. His eyes were narrowed at her as he tilted his head slightly, one corner of his lips quirking up as though ready for a punch line. But this—her trying to shut him out—wasn’t a joke. This was her looking for an easy way out so she didn’t have to deal with her feelings. Or his.
She spoke before he could. “I’m terminating our contract. Effective today.”
Avoiding his gaze was a bad idea, because instead, her eyes fell on his hands, his fingers nervously fiddling with the twine. A small card attached to it bore Audrey’s name. Her throat tightened at the sight.
“Did I...do something wrong?”
“No.”
“Say something wrong?”
“No.”
“So why?” He was agitated, if his reddened ears were anything to go by. “Is this some kind of performance evaluation? What, did I not pass your standards or something?”
“No, Pio. You were perfect. So perfect you managed to knock some sense into Lui’s head.”
“I don’t understand.”
Here goes nothing, Audrey thought and took a deep breath, making sure she made eye contact before the lie spilled out of her. “Lui and I...we had a talk. He apologized for the things he did. And we decided to work things out,” she said. “To try again, at least.”
It was as though she blurted out a mean joke, the way a wry smile twisted his face. “Try again...,” he echoed, voice coming out hitched, looking like he wanted to laugh. But the tears brimming in his eyes told of a deep-seated ache, and all of a sudden she wanted to take back everything she said.
Pio took a step back, wiped the beads of sweat on his nose with th
e back of his hand, and whispered, “Wow. Good for you.”
“So, yeah. You don’t have to—”
“I’m sorry, I just don’t understand how it’s possible that you would willingly run back into the arms of the person who cheated on you. The person who caused you so much pain, you almost risked getting harassed by a couple of guys because you got yourself so drunk—”
“People change, Pio.”
The laughter finally came, and with it, his tears. “Cheaters never change, Audrey. If he’s done it once, he will do it again!” he said, furious. “God, I can’t believe you would fall for that!”
“Who made you the expert? How do you know Luigi hasn’t changed for good?”
“I know because I’ve seen it happen, okay? My m—” He paused, the rage in his eyes wavering and fading into an emotion Audrey couldn’t grasp. He bit down on his trembling lip and stared at her as though affronted by her question. “My mom fell for the very same promise and chose to stay with my dad. Thirty-five years, Audrey. They’ve been married thirty-five years, and to this very day, he is still making a fool out of her.”
And just like that, she got it. This was the piece that completed the puzzle, the origin story she had been waiting for. When Pio said he was the type to fix something broken, it didn’t just apply to a stage prop or a wheelchair or that annoying tap in her bathroom sink that miraculously stopped leaking. She realized that in his eyes, she was the broken little thing—someone like his mother whom he could steer away from a decision he knew the repercussions to—and he used every tool he could find to try putting her back together.
She wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
“I have to go,” she mumbled and walked past him, but Pio was able to block her path and hold her in his arms before she could go any further. Audrey cursed herself for not having the heart to push him away, for wanting to hold him too. She clenched her fists instead. “Pio...”
“One minute. Please,” he sighed into her hair. “You have every right to say this is over, I know. Rule #8. But please, please...don’t run back to him. Don’t choose him.”