Category Archives: Unfaithful
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.
When The Rain Falls (2)
Chapter 2 – “The Plot Thickens”
As we reached Elena’s house, the door swung open, revealing her mother waiting with a wave and a bright smile.
“Wow, you’re soaked! Go to the bathroom and freshen up. I’ll make coffee for you and Elena.”
Elena’s mom was super welcoming. Needless to say, I felt incredibly welcome. But I felt another thing – guilt. The memory of what happened in the hut played repeatedly, starkly contrasting the unwavering kindness being showered upon me.
My hand trembled slightly as I reached for Elena’s mother’s right hand. Gently, I placed it on my forehead, a gesture of deep gratitude that transcended words. “Thank you,” I mumbled, the words barely a whisper against the rising tide of guilt.
“Mom, aren’t you lucky to have such a respectful future son-in-law?”
Elena’s mother just smiled as I let go of her hand.
“Shut up, Mommy,” I told Elena jokingly as I walked towards the bathroom.
Elena’s laughter erupted upon hearing me, followed by her mom’s in a delightful cascade that filled the room.
Before I could shut the bathroom door completely, the voices of Elena and her mom drifted through…
“Someone’s in your room.”
“Who, Mom?”
“Camille.”
The name froze me in my tracks. A mix of surprise and excitement rushed through me. Unable to resist the pull of curiosity, I left the bathroom door slightly ajar, hoping to hear more from them.
“You both arrived almost at the same time. Oh, your sister-in-law didn’t bring an umbrella, so she was soaking wet when she arrived. I lent her some of your clothes. She probably had another fight with Daniel, so she came here first.”
“Yeah. Very likely that brother hurt Camille again.” Elena responded with her voice echoing so much disappointment.
“Call Daniel and let him know Camille is here. He can come over, and you can also introduce Jeff to them.”
The sound of your name echoed in my head as a desperate hope battled a rising tide of dread. I couldn’t figure out which feeling was stronger – was it the hope that I would soon see you again or the dread? Could it be? Could you be the Camille they were talking about? Are you Elena’s sister-in-law, the wife of my fiancé’s brother?
While lost in those thoughts, somebody pushed open the bathroom door. It was Elena. She handed me a pair of shorts and a tank top in the bathroom.
“Dad, after you take a shower, could you please go to the terrace? I need to talk to Camille in our room.”
“Camille?” I asked, puzzled.
“Yes, my sister-in-law. I don’t think you know her… or… did you meet someone earlier?”
“No, I only saw those people at the nearby store.”
“Okay, daddy. Go ahead and do your thing. I need to talk to Camille now. She won’t stop crying. It seems like she has a serious problem, probably because of my brother. But something else happened to her on her way here, and she doesn’t want to say it.”
I could only manage a simple nod for Elena as dread tightened in my stomach. Seeing you was a desperate wish, but not under that roof. What if you, Camille, were the one they spoke of? The thought terrified me. Could facing you here be worse than our secret coming out? We could play strangers, a flimsy disguise for the secret we shared. But what if you shattered the pretense, confessing to your sister-in-law those forbidden moments we shared in the hut? The possibility suffocated me with guilt.
I sat on the terrace, overwhelmed by the possibilities ahead of me. I couldn’t shake off the anxiety about the presence of Camille. My usual methods to calm my mind seemed ineffective, but I persisted, trying to regain my composure. Looking around, I noticed the rough planks that made up the terrace floor and the vividly colored potted plants on the ledge, a stark contrast to the darkness of the inner turmoil I was feeling. I had been so preoccupied with exploring Sagada and sharing my experiences on social media that I hadn’t noticed these details earlier.
“Jeff, just stay here for a while.”
That was Elena’s mother. She placed a cup of coffee on a wooden side table before me.
“I’ll go to Elena and Camille in the room. Daniel is also on his way. You can all talk later.”
“Alright, mot…mot…”
“Son, don’t hesitate to call me a mother. Or mama. It’s okay. You and Elena are getting married.”
“Ha… uh… Yes… okay, mama. Thank you.”
“I just hope you love my daughter, be faithful to her. Please don’t hurt my youngest.”
“I… I promise, Inay. I will love and take care of Elena.”
Guilt ate at me as I tried to make a promise I was afraid I couldn’t keep. Elena’s mother’s kindness highlighted my deceit. The rain pounding on the roof matched the chaos in my mind. Every regret hit me like a downpour—the forgotten umbrella, the postponed plans, and the encounter that now filled me with dread. I desperately wished to return and erase the meeting that started this turmoil in my heart. With my mind and heart, I was at peace. But no matter how much I regret it, what happened won’t change. My decisions were wrong, and I had to face the consequences of those mistakes.
On the terrace, I held the forgotten coffee, now lukewarm. My future mother-in-law’s kindness felt like a cruel joke as I paced. Was Camille really here? Unable to stand the uncertainty, I went back inside. Our room’s door was partly open, inviting me in. A thin curtain hid the inside, muffling sounds. But I heard a sob, making me sick with worry.
I didn’t want to wait any longer. It’s killing me softly. I decided to go in. If you were really inside, I had to know.
Driven by that desperate need, I reached for the partly open door. But a car horn blared even before I could pull the door open. The interruption snapped me back, and I retreated a step. The insistent honking escalated, urging me into action. That could be Daniel. There’s nobody else expected to come.
The honking escalated into a frantic barrage. So, I had to race outside and open the gate. A black car with its doors and bumpers splattered with mud glided into the driveway. I retreated to give its driver more space to maneuver.
After parking, the driver got out… it was Daniel. That was the first time I saw it in person.
“Jeff? Are you Jeff?”
I nodded at him as I said “yes” and offered a handshake. He towered over me slightly, his frame solid and athletic. Instead of taking my hand, he embraced me.
“I’m Daniel, Elena’s brother. Damn… no wonder my sister fell in love with you. You’re handsome, and you’ve got a great physique. Looks like you live at the gym.”
“Not really, bro. I usually work out at home. You have a great built yourself.”
“Ah… just from hard work in the fields.”
The terrace buzzed with the distant chirping of crickets as we finally met face-to-face. I had previously seen their family photo on Elena’s Facebook cover page, taken when their father was still alive. It was the only picture Elena had with any of her family members. Daniel exuded a quiet intensity, starkly contrasting Elena’s gentle nature. While I navigated the social media world for my vlog, Elena rarely ventured there. In fact, Miguel, according to her, was a digital ghost – no Facebook, no Instagram, just a phone for the bare necessities. “He’s not a gadget person,” Elena had said, a hint of amusement in her voice, “more of a… gun person.” Her offhand remark left me with a lingering question – was that a playful exaggeration or a glimpse into a world I wasn’t prepared for?
I inquired if Daniel wanted coffee.
“Coffee? Perfect! Although, wait a minute… I just remembered I grabbed a bottle of wine on my way over. Are you in for a switch? I’ll grab it in a second!”
A cold dread settled in my gut as another of Elena’s offhand comments echoed in my mind: her brother drank wine for breakfast. Oblivious to my growing unease, Daniel didn’t waste a breath waiting for my reply. With a muttered excuse, he was already striding towards his car, the clink of glass promising a night far stronger than I’d bargained for. My stomach lurched – the thought of hard liquor sent a familiar tremor through me. I was a lightweight, unlike Daniel, whose casual gait suggested a seasoned tolerance. The prospect of a drinking session, especially with someone who might consider breakfast wine a tame indulgence, filled me with a potent mix of apprehension and a bizarre, desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, tonight wouldn’t be as bad as I feared.
“Alright, put down the coffee. Shot glasses, check! I knew we might need them. Just got to find some nibbles, and then we can get started.”
Daniel returned, a bottle of wine clutched triumphantly in one hand. The other held a black leather clutch bag. He plunked the wine down with a dull thud, but the bag was carefully placed beside it. From what I heard from Elena, I was almost certain it was a gun.
“Where’s my mom and Elena? Is Camille here?”
“They’re in the room, talking.”
“Looks like I’m back in the doghouse. Thanks to Camille. Of course, they’ll all believe the little angel. Guess I’m public enemy number one again.”
I just listened to Daniel.
“That woman can be stubborn as that carabao I use on the farm. I told her to fly back to Italy in February of this year, but she did not. Then the lockdown hit in March, and now she’s stuck here. Damn Covid. Our savings are dwindling, and who knows if she even has a job to return to.”
“The situation is really tough right now, bro. Elena and I were told it might be two more months before we can return to our company. So we’ll stay here for now.”
“Is that so? That’s good, so our mom will have company here. Our female cousin, caring for her, eloped just last week. And my other sister, who’s also in Italy, won’t be back until the end of the year. She’ll definitely be here for your wedding with Elena.”
“Oh, there you are, Daniel.”
That was Elena’s mother, who suddenly appeared behind us.
“Hello, ma. I just arrived.”
“Wine again, Daniel? Elena said Jeff isn’t used to drinking.”
“That’s why I’m starting to train him now. By the time their two-month vacation is over, my brother-in-law will be used to hard drinks. How are you, ma?”
“May God bless you. And I hope He makes you a good person. Oh, Daniel.”
“What did Camille tell you this time?”
“You, stupid good-for-nothing man. Explain it to me later.”
“See, brother!” Daniel addressed me. “Nobody loves me here. Everybody hates me.”
Elena’s mother’s gaze snagged on the black clutch bag nestled beside the bottle of wine. Curiosity flickered in her eyes. “What have we here, Daniel?” she inquired, her voice gentle but firm. “Why do you have your gun with you again?”
“Ma, it’s for protection, not trouble. It’s licensed. The neighbor beside my farm has been causing problems, accusing me of encroaching on his land. I can’t let him push me around.”
“I understand but…
“I know you worry, Ma. But sometimes things get messy. I won’t back down from what’s rightfully mine. Nobody can steal what belongs to me.”
After Daniel spoke, I felt uneasy and had a heavy sense of foreboding. “Just be careful.”
My soon-to-be mother-in-law went to the dining area after saying that. Daniel kept on talking. I couldn’t focus on what he said because I was preoccupied with thoughts of you. I kept glancing at the door, waiting to see if the Camille, who was talking to Elena in the room, would already come out.
“Daniel… Jeff… come in. Dinner is ready.”
“Let’s go, Jeff… let’s eat so we can start drinking.” That was their mother’s calling.
My heart hammered against my ribs, echoing the rhythm of my steps on the wooden floorboards. I would finally find out if you were the “Camille” I met in the hut. The question reverberated in my mind like a relentless drumbeat. But what if you were?
“Oh, Daniel… call Elena and Camille from the room. Tell them dinner is served.”
“Okay, ma.”
Daniel went to the room. I didn’t know if I felt scared or excited while waiting to see who would come out of the room.
“Hey… Jeff! Why are you staring at the room door so intently?”
“Huh? Oh, it’s nothing, mama.”
“There’s no ghost coming out of the room, so don’t be scared.”
“Sorry, mama. It’s just that… it suddenly reminded me of the door in our apartment in Pasig. I’m wondering if I locked it or not.”
“Just call the landlord and have them check it.”
“Ah. I’ll call later.”
That’s another lie. I have already told so many of them since we met. I wondered how many more I would have to fabricate because of you.
I kept asking myself why the “Camille” inside hadn’t come out of the room. I felt increasingly restless. The longer I wait, the worse it will become.
“Have a seat, Jeff. Just relax.”
Embarrassment flooded my cheeks. I hadn’t even realized I was still standing. “Yes, Mom,” I mumbled, sinking into the chair.
Elena’s mother beamed. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you, Jeff. Having you and Daniel here with Elena makes this a truly special evening. I wish my daughter in Italy could be here too, and the whole family would be together.”
“It won’t be long before we’re all under one roof, Mom,” I assured her, forcing a smile.
Her smile faltered slightly. “Of course, of course.”
Elena emerged from the room, a flicker of concern in her eyes.
“Oh, why only you?”
“Daniel’s talking to Camille. They’ll be out in a moment.”
The anticipation dragged on, making me even more anxious.
“Alright, let’s wait for them. Serve Jeff some mushroom soup; he might be hungry.”
“Oh, Dad, it looks like you and Mom are getting close.”
Elena’s mother looked at me and smiled.
“What else did Camille tell you?”
Elena glanced at the room before speaking.
“Mom, Daniel wants Camille to return to Italy because he’s dating someone.”
Elena’s mom widened. “Oh, dear heavens! Who is it?”
Elena lowered her voice. “Someone from their barangay, Mom. And… she’s married. An OFW in Saudi.”
“Dios mio! What was your brother thinking? Does he have no shame?” Her voice trembled with a mix of anger and disappointment.
Elena’s mother’s words felt like needles piercing my conscience. I remembered my mother’s frequent advice to think carefully about every decision to avoid future regrets. But it was too late; what’s done is done.
Elena sighed. “The rumors have been swirling around their barangay for a while now, Mom.”
“What a mess. Thank goodness Daniel can’t have children. Otherwise, who knows what kind of trouble they’d be in.”
“Mom, there’s trouble with Daniel and Camille. Camille wants to leave him. I mean, they’re not even married, so…”
“What!? Oh no, this is terrible!”
“According to Camille, that other woman might be why Daniel hesitates about marriage.”
Elena’s mother glanced at me.
“Oh Jeff, son, I apologize. We’re burdening you with our family problems.”
“Don’t worry about me, mom.”
That was all I could say in response to the shocking revelations.
“Camille’s heartbroken. Daniel has fertility issues that prevented him from impregnating her, yet that didn’t stop Daniel from cheating on her.”
As soon as Elena finished speaking, the room door creaked open, and Daniel emerged. The woman inside, named Camille, her head bowed demurely, slowly stepped out. It was you. My heart skipped a beat as I saw you. You were yet unaware of my presence. As you approached the dining table, I confirmed that you were the same Camille from the hut with whom I shared passionate moments. Now you’re inside the house where I was about to share a meal with my future in-laws. I was torn between running out of the house for fear of whatever might happen should what transpired between us get known and running towards you so I could make you feel how much I missed you. Would we acknowledge each other or pretend nothing happened? The weight of our secret loomed large, threatening to unravel the fragile peace of this evening.
“Mom, here they come.”
“Camille, dear, sit next to me. This is Jeff, Elena’s future husband.”
When our eyes met, you froze. I was over that feeling of surprise, having seen you already earlier. I could say that you felt like cold water was poured over you like I felt earlier. Your reaction did not escape Elena’s keen eyes.
Our eyes met. A jolt passed through you. You appeared frozen. The surprise mirrored the one I felt moments ago when I saw you. The realization flickered across your face as quickly as it arrived, but it wasn’t fast enough for Elena’s watchful gaze.
“Hey, Camille… have you met Jeff before?”
I anxiously awaited your response. I was worried that you might disclose that we met in the hut. Not because of the chance of you revealing everything that happened there, but because I had told Elena that I hadn’t been to that place or met anyone along the way.
“What?… No! This is the first time I’ve seen him.
You were a great actress. The flicker of surprise in your eyes vanished as quickly as it appeared. A cool smile settled on your lips as you offered a hand and a polite, “Pleasure to meet you.” Confusion washed over me. Was this denial? A desperate attempt to protect our secret? I reached out, my fingers brushing against yours. But in a heartbeat, your hand retreated, a flicker of revulsion crossing your face. The gesture was so sudden, so inexplicable, it left me reeling.
Then, you sat directly across from me, acting like I wasn’t there. You ignored me like people do with those they don’t know. You were so cold, completely different from the Camille I met in the hut. There, you were incredibly warm, even scorching. You melted me.
It hurt a bit, but I understood your lie and pretense. If I had spoken first, I would have said the same. Admitting we met at the hut by the mini rice terraces, even without saying what happened between us, would reveal my lie to Elena since I had told her I hadn’t seen that place yet.
“I was surprised by your reactions earlier. It seemed like you both were startled when you saw each other,” Elena said.
“Oh, Elena, with Jeff’s charisma, any woman seeing him for the first time would be startled. Especially now that he’s in shorts and a tank top. And look at my wife; she has the face and body of a beauty queen. Jeff was probably shocked too, thinking you were the most beautiful woman on earth, only to find someone even more beautiful – your sister-in-law, Camille.”
“Oh, there you go again, Daniel. Stop it.” That was Elena’s mom. “Maybe they have met before and just don’t remember when and where, which is why they reacted that way. It happens.”
You kept your head down while listening to that conversation. I noticed Elena looking at you and then glancing at me.
“Alright… alright… Let’s eat,” suggested Elena’s mother.
“Yes, so Jeff and I can start drinking.”
“Guys, perhaps we can, just this once, give thanks before we eat. Let’s also thank God for Jeff’s safe arrival here. Elena, please lead the prayer.”
We all bowed our heads. I noticed you closed your eyes while I was the only one who didn’t. Instead, I kept my head stubbornly raised, and my gaze drifted towards you. I saw you open your eyes. A flicker of movement caught my eye. You peeked open your eyes, seemingly to check on Elena, before gazing at me. Your eyes looked swollen. Your lips curved into a smile, a faint echo of the one you offered me in the hut – hesitant, yet holding a promise of understanding. Despite being forced, your smile lifted my spirits. I smiled back at you and nodded. You smiled at me one more time. You winked a playful spark in your tired eyes before closing them again.
TO BE CONTINUED…
When The Rain Falls (1-B)
Chapter 1B – “Vanished”
You were finally asleep, breathing softly as the birds chirped outside. You looked vulnerable in my slightly oversized t-shirt, and I felt protective as I adjusted the fabric over you. Your face, once marked with passion and pain, was now peaceful. I gently reached for my camera, compelled to capture this serene moment. It wasn’t about keeping secrets but about preserving this fragile peace. I plan to show you this picture when you wake up.
As I focused closer, I found something that both worried and intrigued me – dark bruises covered your arms, thighs, and neck, making me uneasy. The playful atmosphere disappeared as I realized the storm you escaped wasn’t just outside; it was part of you, hidden beneath sleep. What demons were you running from? And were they still with you, even here?
The insistent chirping of birds announced the end of the heavy downpour. I squinted at my watch – nearly four in the afternoon. You were still fast asleep. Curiosity gnawed at me. Had you spoken of your past during the storm-tossed hours, or were the bruises the only clues to the battles you’d fought? Pushing those questions aside for now, I glanced out the window. A breathtaking rainbow stretched across the sky, a vibrant promise painted on the canvas of the newly washed world. This was a scene I couldn’t miss. Regret flickered across my chest as I leaned down, kissing your cheek softly. It felt like a stolen moment, a fleeting glimpse into a life I was about to step away from, if only for a moment. Pulling on my damp hoodie, I ventured out into the cool afternoon air, the weight of unspoken questions pressing down on me. The heavy rain had stopped, leaving behind a rainbow and a stranger whose secrets lingered in the quiet of the hut.
The crisp afternoon breeze invigorated my senses as I wandered through the mini rice terraces, searching for the perfect vantage point to capture the rainbow’s brilliance. Each step crunched on the damp earth. There it was! The perfect composition, the vibrant colors of the rainbow arcing majestically over the lush green fields. A surge of triumph filled me as I raised my camera, finger poised on the shutter button. But then, with agonizing slowness, the vibrant hues began to fade. The once-proud arch dissolved into wispy streaks of color, finally vanishing completely. Disappointment settled in my chest, a heavyweight mirroring the sudden emptiness in the sky. The rainbow, a fleeting symbol of hope and renewal, had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind a reminder of the impermanence of all things. Perhaps it was a metaphor for our burning passion, a beautiful moment suspended in time, forever etched in my memory, yet ultimately fragile and fleeting.
Returning to the hut felt like stepping back into a different reality. The place buzzing with a strange intimacy just moments ago was now a tomb of silence. You were gone. My t-shirt, a symbol of our shared vulnerability, lay abandoned on the bed. A wave of sadness washed over me, sharper and more unexpected than the heavy downpour earlier. Just a moment. That’s all it had been. Yet, you’d vanished like the fleeting beauty of the rainbow I’d tried to capture. Pulling off the damp hoodie, I reached for the t-shirt. The faint scent of your body that lingered was the only tangible reminder of your presence. At that moment, I knew I had to find you.
Disappointment clawed at my throat as I raced out of the hut. My voice echoed unanswered across the rice fields, the vibrant green mocking my frantic calls for your name. No sign of you anywhere. The wooded area behind the hut loomed, a dense curtain of trees beckoning strangely. Without hesitation, I plunged into the cool shade, the silence thick and heavy. I circled the woods, my voice hoarse from calling your name, but only the rustle of unseen creatures answered. Panic gnawed at the edges of my reason. Had you vanished like the fleeting rainbow, leaving nothing but a memory and a growing sense of dread? Emerging from the trees, I stumbled onto the deserted road, heart hammering against my ribs. Still no sign of you
The playful afternoon sun hid behind the clouds. I saw ominous storm clouds gathering on the horizon, their bellies a bruised purple. Fat drops splattered on my face, the first whispers of a coming downpour. Rain. Again. A knot of worry tightened in my gut.
The sky fractured, unleashing again a deluge that transformed the path into a muddy river. Raindrops stung my face, blurring my vision. Several houses materialized through the downpour, their windows glowing with a warm, inviting light. But I didn’t flinch. Didn’t even consider seeking shelter. The past, a relentless storm in itself, clawed at me, its icy fingers wrapping around my heart. Taking refuge wouldn’t wash away the memories of the passionate moments we shared and the secrets behind the bruises I saw in your body. So I walked on, the rain a baptism of sorts, a cleansing that couldn’t erase the darkness but perhaps offered a sliver of hope for redemption.
A flicker of movement in the distance snagged my attention. Through the sheets of rain, a solitary figure emerged – a woman, her form obscured by a large umbrella. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the storm’s symphony. As we drew closer, the pounding intensified. Could it be you? Had you managed to snag an umbrella, your earlier hesitation forgotten, and rushed back to the hut, fearing for me in the downpour? The thought ignited a spark of hope within me, a fragile flame that threatened to be extinguished by the relentless rain. I quickened my pace, my eyes fixed on the figure, willing them to move faster, to reveal themselves sooner. Every rustle of the wind, every flicker of movement beneath the umbrella, sent a jolt through me.
“Camille!” I shouted.
I quickened my pace, eager to see you again. But as I drew closer, I realized it wasn’t you. It was Elena, my fiancee.
“Jeff! I’ve been looking for you. Oh… you’re soaking wet. You’re so stubborn, you didn’t bring an umbrella.”
“Sorry… mo…mommy!”
The memory of the Camille touch sent a tremor through me, a stark reminder of the connection we’d shared just moments ago. Elena, with her worried frown and rain-streaked face, seemed to belong to a different world altogether. How could I have forgotten her existence so completely? Was it the heavy rain, the isolation, or something sinister at play? The weight of the forgotten ring meant to secure my future with Elena felt heavy in my pocket. Was this a desperate escape, a temporary lapse in judgment, or a deeper yearning for something I hadn’t acknowledged within myself? Elena’s presence, a symbol of my planned life, only intensified the confusion within me. And then, another question surfaced, one that sent a shiver down my spine: where was the stranger, and what secrets did they hold that could so easily erase the love I thought I possessed?
“It sounded like you were calling someone earlier? …mil or Hamil?”
“Huh? No… no…no… no… I said mommy.”
“Is that so! The rain was so heavy I probably misheard.”
That’s when the series of lies I told Elena because of you began.
“Let’s hurry. Take a shower as soon as we get home. I hope you don’t catch a cold. Kuya Daniel and his wife are coming. It’s a shame my sister in Italy can’t come home. Damn Covid.”
Elena’s warmth beside me felt like a comforting illusion. My arm, draped around her shoulder, felt heavy with a lie. My mind, a traitor to the moment, was a whirlwind of stolen glances and whispered conversations in a rain-soaked hut. With each step closer to her house, with each shared laugh and casual touch, the memory of you intensified. I kept searching, scanning the deserted streets, a desperate hope clinging to the edges of my despair. But there was nothing – no flicker of movement, no echo of your laughter in the wind. A wave of crushing defeat washed over me. The shared joy, fleeting and intense like a summer storm, had vanished, leaving only the bittersweet ache of loss. But then, a flicker of defiance sparked within me. You might be gone, a ghost in the storm, but I had a tangible reminder – your photo, tucked securely on my camera’s memory stick. It wouldn’t bring you back, but it would serve as a constant echo of our shared connection, a silent promise to unravel the mystery of your disappearance.
The life I’d built with Elena, once a haven of comfort, now felt like a house of cards, teetering on the edge of collapse. Six months of partnership, years of friendship – how could I throw it all away for a stranger encountered in a drunken stupor? Yet, the memory of your touch excites me, a stark reminder of an undeniable connection. Maybe it was the alcohol, a lubricant for unspoken desires. But why did I feel so abandoned after you left, your departure starkly contrasting our shared intensity? The beer’s haze may have lifted, but my mind was still foggy, clouded by unanswered questions. What was it about you that resonated so deeply? Why did you vanish without a trace? These questions, relentless and consuming, fueled a growing determination within me. I wouldn’t rest until I found you until I understood the truth behind the intoxicating encounter that threatened to destroy the life I knew.
“Hey, Dad, you seem really serious? You haven’t been paying attention to what I’ve been saying.”
“Huh, I’m just tired.”
“Tired? What did you do to get tired? Did somebody ride your flagpole?”
I knew Elena was joking, but I felt a pang when she said that. I thought of you and what we did.
“Hey… I asked if you somebody ride your flagpole?”
“What are you talking about, mommy?”
“Don’t pretend… you know what I’m talking about.”
“You’re funny, mommy… Who would do that here?”
“Who knows… maybe a forest fairy assumed a human form when she saw your handsomeness. Then…”
“Mommy, your imagination is really fertile. You’re not even a writer.”
“I’m just trying to make you laugh, Dad.”
Maybe you are a fairy. You’re so mysterious. You appeared suddenly… then disappeared suddenly. And now I’m under your spell.
“But you didn’t even laugh… you’re still serious. It’s like you’re thinking deeply about something.”
“Sorry, I just have a bit of a headache.”
That’s all I said so Elena wouldn’t feel bad.
“By the way, where is your brother Daniel coming from?”
“They live in the next village. They have a car, but they often just walk when they want to visit the house. There’s a shortcut through the mini rice terraces to get here. By the way… did you go there earlier?”
Should I say yes? Should I say I went to that place? Should I admit that’s where I came from?
“Huh… the terraced rice fields? I don’t think I noticed anything like that. You said the actual rice terraces are still far from here, right?”
“It’s still quite far, but some rice terraces are already here. They are also terraced.”
“Is that so,” I replied nonchalantly.
“You’ll find it beautiful if you haven’t seen it yet. That place is very scenic. Tomorrow, I’ll take you there so you can take lots of pictures and videos for your travel vlog. You’ll be amazed. And by the way… there’s a small hut there.”
“A hut?!”
“Yes, Dad… a hut… I’ll pack food, and we’ll eat there. I’ll bring beer for you… so that… you’ll see me as a goddess. And then… you know what happens next!”
I pulled Elena by the waist in response.
“My dad is really not in the mood.”
Should I tell her that I also know there’s a hut there, that I took shelter there when the first rain poured? Should I tell her we met there and something happened between us unintentionally? Did we really not intend for that to happen? Didn’t we want what happened there?
TO BE CONTINUED…
M.A.D. LIGAYA
M.A.D. L I G A Y A 