Category Archives: Two-timer
Gertrude (2)
(SHORT STORY – 2nd of 2 parts)
I insisted.
Softly at first.
Then just enough for her to give in.
“Can you lend me ten thousand?”
She did not meet my eyes when she said it.
“It’s for the house… we’re behind on the payments.”
For a moment, everything I had been told—
everything I had chosen to ignore—
surfaced.
Not clearly.
But enough.
Like something rising from beneath still water.
__________
Then I reached for my wallet.
I handed her my ATM card.
Told her to withdraw everything.
Eleven thousand.
I said I was closing the account anyway.
She smiled.
And just like that—
whatever had surfaced…
sank again.
__________
Trust does not always come from certainty.
Sometimes, it comes from need.
I went to work the next day, exhausted.
But strangely… light.
I moved through the day with an energy I could not explain.
As if giving something away
had made room for something else.
Gertrude did not come to the office.
I told myself she was attending to her problems.
I did not question it.
__________
The following day, she returned.
Wearing less than she usually did.
I noticed the way the men looked at her.
Not discreetly.
Not politely.
I had seen it before.
But that day—
it felt different.
Something in me tightened.
__________
She passed by my table.
Touched my cheek—
lightly, almost playfully.
Then walked straight into the boss’s office.
I watched the door close.
I told myself it was nothing.
That I had no right to feel what I was beginning to feel.
__________
I thought of speaking to her.
About the way she dressed.
About the way the others looked at her.
But she did not come out.
Not for a break.
Not for lunch.
__________
Time passed slowly.
Too slowly.
__________
Then I saw it.
A delivery boy.
Carrying a box of pizza.
Bottles of drinks.
The cashier took it.
And brought it inside the boss’s office.
__________
Something moved inside me again.
Not yet anger.
Not fully.
But… close.
Gertrude came out only minutes before closing time.
As she stepped out of the boss’s office,
I noticed something in her hand.
A cellphone.
She held it casually—familiar, practiced—
her thumb moving across the screen
as if it belonged there.
I watched her for a moment longer than I should have.
I remembered the night at my apartment.
“I don’t have one.”
I said nothing.
And like the other things—
I let it pass.
I asked if I could take her home.
She did not answer.
Instead, she handed me a note.
“Saturday. Your place.”
Then she left.
Quickly.
__________
She did not come to the office the next day.
Nor the day after.
I asked.
Casually.
As if it did not matter.
Someone said she had gone to Cebu.
With the Boss.
For a conference.
The word lingered longer than it should have.
Cebu.
__________
I tried not to think about it.
But thoughts have a way of returning
when they are not settled.
I imagined things.
Scenes I had no proof of—
but could not stop forming.
I dismissed them.
Called them foolish.
Told myself I was better than that.
Then, sometime in the middle of the day,
a message appeared on my computer.
No name.
No number.
Just a single line.
“You should get some rest. You look tired.”
I stared at the screen.
For a moment, it was there.
Then it wasn’t.
I leaned closer.
Nothing.
I sat back slowly.
Had there really been something there?
Or had I only imagined it?
Ah… I was a mess.
__________
Slowly, I looked up.
Across the room—
Gertrude was not there.
__________
Anyway… Saturday was coming.
That was enough.
I held on to that.
__________
And somewhere between doubt and anticipation…
I made a decision.
I would ask her to marry me.
Foolish?
Yes.
But by then, I was no longer trying to be right—
only certain.
I thought…
I could make her agree.
__________
Saturday came.
I bought a ring.
The diamond caught the light with quiet precision.
It did not flicker.
It did not hesitate.
It simply… remained what it was.
I thought that meant something.
At the cinema, I sat alone.
The movie played.
Unnoticed.
What drew my attention was the couple seated below.
Too close.
Too absorbed.
Too unaware of the world around them.
There was something excessive in the way they touched.
Something… familiar.
I looked away.
Then back.
I couldn’t help it.
When the lights came on, the man stood.
I recognized him immediately.
Our boss.
Something inside me shifted.
Not yet breaking.
Just… moving.
I leaned forward.
The woman turned.
And everything stopped.
It was Gertrude.
For a moment, I believed I was mistaken.
Memory can deceive.
Desire can distort.
So I called her name.
She looked at me.
__________
No surprise.
No denial.
Only recognition.
She even smiled.
Not warmly.
Not the way I remembered.
There was something in it—
something I could not place,
yet understood immediately.
And in that moment…
I realized
I had never really known her.
She said—
“See you tonight… darling.”
__________
That was when it happened.
Not loudly.
Not violently.
But completely.
Something inside me ended.
__________
I stood up.
Walked away.
Not because I was strong—
but because I knew that if I stayed,
I might become something else.
__________
The ring was still in my hand.
The diamond caught the light again.
Unchanged.
Certain.
Unaffected.
I closed my fingers around it.
Some things remain what they are.
Others only appear real…
until they are seen clearly.
Before going home, I bought several cans of beer.
Not to forget.
Not to escape.
Just…
to sit with what remained.
Gertrude (1)
(SHORT STORY – 1st of 2 Parts)
Gertrude had already been with the company long before I arrived.
I did not notice her immediately. Not because she was easy to miss—but because she did not need to be seen to be felt.
There are people who enter a room and demand attention. Gertrude did something else.
She let the room rearrange itself around her.
Conversations would slow. Voices softened. Even laughter seemed… measured, as if it needed her permission to exist fully.
And when she moved, you did not look at her right away.
You felt that you should.
She was the executive secretary—efficient, precise, and quietly authoritative.
She did not raise her voice. She did not need to.
When she spoke, people listened.
I did.
__________
Our interactions began with something simple.
Work.
Or at least, something that looked like work.
She would come to my cubicle carrying folders that were, technically, hers to handle.
“Can you help me with this?” she would ask.
The first time, I said yes without thinking.
The softness of her palm lingered—
just enough to make refusal feel unlikely the next time.
The second time, I noticed how close she stood.
I felt her breath—warm, near—
close enough to unsettle,
and the quiet trace of her scent
that lingered longer than it should have.
For a moment, her body brushed against mine—
light, unintentional… or so I told myself.
Just enough to linger in a way I could not ignore.
The third time, I realized she always came when I was alone.
Not deliberately.
Just… consistently.
__________
There are details the mind chooses to keep.
The faint scent of her perfume—light, almost forgettable, yet impossible to ignore once noticed.
The way she paused before speaking, as if selecting not just words, but their effect.
The way her eyes lingered—not long enough to accuse, but long enough to stay.
And then, the smallest gestures.
A hand resting briefly on my desk.
A brush against my shoulder.
A smile that arrived slowly, as if it had been waiting its turn.
__________
There was nothing inappropriate.
Nothing I could point to and say this was where it began.
And yet… something had already begun.
__________
I started noticing the absences.
The days she did not come to my cubicle stretched longer than they should have.
Work felt heavier. The air—still.
I would find myself listening for her voice.
Not consciously.
But persistently.
__________
It was around that time that I noticed something else.
The other men in the office kept their distance.
Not openly. Not dramatically.
Just enough.
They spoke to her when necessary, but never lingered. Never laughed too long. Never stood too close.
Some avoided her entirely.
At first, I thought it was envy.
Later, I wondered if it was something else.
But by then, I had already chosen not to wonder too deeply.
Because whenever she stood beside me…
everything made sense.
__________
I invited her to dinner.
I expected hesitation. A polite refusal.
I was wrong.
She said yes.
Immediately.
I let myself believe she liked me.
That should have been a warning.
I did not stop to wonder
how easily she might say yes to someone else.
__________
In my apartment, she moved with quiet familiarity.
Opening cabinets. Touching objects as if she were memorizing them—or claiming them.
“I’ll cook,” she said.
I protested, lightly. Out of courtesy, not conviction.
She smiled—just enough—and guided me to the sofa.
“Sit.”
It wasn’t a request.
And strangely… I obeyed.
__________
From the living room, I listened to her in the kitchen.
The rhythm of movement. The soft clatter of utensils. The occasional pause—as if she were thinking of something else entirely.
Once, I thought she had stopped moving altogether.
I almost stood up to check.
Then the sound returned.
It felt intimate.
Too intimate for something that had only just begun.
And yet, I did not question it.
__________
We talked over dinner.
About her family. Her past. Her disappointments.
She spoke freely.
But not deeply.
There were spaces in her stories—small gaps where something should have been.
I noticed them.
I chose not to ask.
At one point, I reached for my phone—out of habit more than intention.
“Do you want to exchange numbers?” I asked.
She paused.
Not long. Just enough to be noticed.
“I don’t have one,” she said.
I looked at her, waiting for the rest of the sentence.
It didn’t come.
“No cellphone?”
She shook her head lightly, as if the question itself did not deserve much thought.
“I don’t like being… reachable all the time.”
There was something in the way she said it—
not defensive, not apologetic—
just… final.
I let it pass.
Like the other things I had already chosen not to question.
__________
Later, she opened a bottle of brandy.
“I don’t drink much,” I said.
“Then I will,” she replied.
And she did.
Effortlessly.
The more she drank, the more she seemed… not intoxicated—but unguarded.
Her eyes softened—but never lost their sharpness.
At some point, I moved closer.
Or maybe she allowed me to think I did.
I reached for her hand.
It was warm.
Real.
Before I could speak, she turned and kissed me.
Not gently.
Not hesitantly.
But with certainty.
The kiss lingered—
longer than it should have.
And when it deepened,
neither of us tried to stop it.
__________
What followed was no longer hesitation—
but desire,
finally given permission.
She did not pull away.
And neither did I.
And I saw no reason to.
The space between us disappeared—
slowly at first,
then all at once.
Her warmth,
her breath—
the quiet urgency in the way she held on—
all of it unfolded without resistance.
And whatever distance had existed before that moment…
was gone.
There are moments in life that feel like decisions.
And others that feel like surrender.
That was surrender.
Morning came.
She was gone.
No note. No message. No explanation.
Just absence.
At the office, I waited—more than I should have, more than I admitted.
Every sound from the door pulled my attention away from my work. Every passing shadow felt like it might become her.
When she finally appeared, she smiled.
And said nothing.
I did not ask.
The warnings came later.
Two officemates. Hesitant at first. Then certain.
They spoke of her as if she were something to be avoided.
Something already understood.
Their words were sharp. Accusatory.
Ugly.
I dismissed them.
Not because they lacked truth.
But because I was not ready for it.
That night, she came back to my apartment.
Unannounced.
“I missed you… I need you.”
She said it softly—almost like a confession.
I felt something in me give in too easily.
And whatever doubt had tried to take root… disappeared again.
She was there when I woke up.
Seated beside me.
Quiet.
I reached for her hand and held it gently.
She looked at me.
Something in her eyes had changed.
The warmth I had grown used to… was not there.
I felt it immediately—though I could not name it.
She hesitated, as if holding back something she had already decided to say.
I waited.
M.A.D. LIGAYA
M.A.D. L I G A Y A 