Chapter Seven

C-07: Torn, Confused, and Wishing

There were tons of articles written. Manang Adoracion showed me a few through her old phone. The screen was a bit cracked, and the images loaded slowly, but the headlines were all there—bold, intrusive, dramatic.

I could only imagine how exhausting it must’ve been for Thomas to deal with things like that.

“No wonder he reacted that way…” I murmured.

Upon checking the dates, I realized they came out the same day he lashed out at me at the bistro.

“He actually snapped at me,” I confessed quietly. “Asked me who paid me…”

Everything was slowly starting to make sense. But the way Manang Adoracion looked—how her eyes shifted with a flicker of hesitation—told me that there was still more.

“He hates having his picture taken…” she said, voice dropping low.

“Because of something that happened in the past.”

She reached over and held my hand. Her touch was warm, gentle.

“Please don’t think of him as a bad person… that poor boy,” she sighed.

“He used to be loud, you know. Makulit. That child could surf from sunrise to sunset. He and Sir Isagani, they were always out there—competing, laughing, getting into trouble. The Parisi boy back then? He was sunshine and saltwater.”

She smiled softly, but it faded just as quickly.

“Then… that happened. And he changed. Just like that. It was as if someone switched off all his light.”

I swallowed hard. “What happened, Manang?”

She let out a quiet, shaky sigh.

“His little sister. Thalia. Sweet girl. Fragile. She had a heart condition, so everyone was always careful with her. Treated her like glass. But not Thomas. To him, she was just Thalia. His baby sister. His shadow.”

“She was his half-sister,” she added in a hushed tone. “From an affair Mr. Parisi had. Her existence was kept a secret—not many knew. But that didn’t matter to Thomas. He loved her like family should.”

“She wanted to feel normal. She wanted to go to school like other kids. And it was Thomas who helped her enroll under another name. It was his way of giving her that piece of normal life.”

Manang shook her head slowly.

“But things turned ugly. Some girls in school—girls who fancied Thomas—saw her. Thought she was his girlfriend. One photo started it all. Just a candid shot, taken from afar… the two of them laughing under a tree.”

“That was enough.”

Her voice dropped lower.

“They started bullying her. Whispering behind her back. One time they locked her in a supply room. Left her there in the dark.”

My stomach tightened.

“She didn’t tell Thomas. Not once. I guess she was afraid he’d pull her out of school or stop letting her go out. She wanted to protect what little freedom she had.”

There was a pause.

“Then one day… she jumped from the school’s rooftop.”

I froze.

“She was trying to escape,” Manang whispered. “From the fear, from the shame… from the darkness those girls wrapped her in.”

I could barely breathe.

“Thomas blamed himself. He found out everything after. The bullying. The lies. The photo. The twisted assumptions. He never forgave himself.”

Manang looked at me again, her eyes filled with quiet sadness.

“Since then… he couldn’t stand being photographed. Sometimes, even catching his own reflection would send him into a spiral.”

A long silence fell between us.

“I know he comes off cold now,” she said gently. “And that mouth of his isn’t always kind. But he’s not cruel, Reya. He’s just broken.”

I bit my lip, feeling a knot in my throat.

I suddenly felt so small for the way I’d judged him.

Dinner was quiet. I tried to act like the usual, but I couldn't bring myself to—not after what I had learned. The food was delicious—it did distract me a bit from my thoughts. A bit. But not enough.

"Do you not like the food?" Isagani asked gently, leaning a little closer.

"Huh?" I blinked, snapping out of the fog in my head. I looked him in the eye. "No… the food's great."

He tilted his head slightly, studying me. "You seem a bit quiet..."

Oh. I let out a small laugh, the sound thin and awkward. "Just a bit tired..."

But that wasn't it, and he probably knew.

I glanced across the table without meaning to. My eyes landed on Thomas.

He was acting like he always does—quietly enjoying his food, not speaking unless spoken to, barely reacting to anything around him.

Still, when our eyes met for a second, something shifted in me.

"What is wrong with you?"

A baritone voice spoke from behind me.

After dinner, I found myself stepping out for some fresh air. As expected, it was raining again.

"Nothing..." I shook my head, glancing at Thomas’s direction.

"Oh, really?" He cocked a brow. "Then am I supposed to assume that you glancing at me during dinner was nothing?" he added, smug.

My cheeks heated in realization. Did I really do that?

I sighed. There was no point in denying it. Instead of answering, I kept quiet, watching the rain drizzle. Isagani was busy helping out Manang Adoracion with the dishes.

From my peripheral vision, I saw Thomas lean his back against the railing of the balcony.

"There you go again," he said.

"Do you have a crush on me or something?"

My jaw dropped. "As if I'd ever find you attractive!"

"If I did have a crush, it would obviously be Isagani." I rolled my eyes at him.

His lips curved into a smirk. "No need to broadcast it."

"You’re already wearing your heart on your sleeve," he chuckled.

Is it really that obvious?

Him being like this was making me regret ever feeling sorry for him. I glanced his way as he slipped his hands back into his pockets.

The rainy night suited him—cold and a bit prickly.

"Don’t make it too obvious that you know..." he said, looking me straight in the eye.

"And don’t feel sorry for anything. I don’t need your pity."

"With that personality of yours, the only thing I’ll ever feel for you is hatred," I snapped.

He nodded slowly, like he was amused.

"If you say so..."

For the next few days, I never got to see him again—as if he had vanished into thin air.

Isagani, however, kept me busy, taking me to all sorts of fun activities.

I genuinely had so much fun with him, and somehow, I felt like we were growing a little bit closer.

“Just focus on the wheel…” Isagani instructed, standing a few feet away from me. He was teaching me how to maneuver the yacht.

“Am I doing this right?” I asked, raising my voice so he could hear me over the wind.

“Yup. It’s just like driving a car,” he replied casually.

I bit my lower lip in embarrassment. I didn’t even know how to drive a car!

Then I felt a sudden surge of butterflies as a warm body pressed gently against my back. Slowly, I glanced over my shoulder—Isagani was standing right behind me.

I caught a whiff of his cologne.

As if it were nothing, he reached for the wheel, his arms caging me in. I momentarily forgot how to breathe.

With him so close, I got a better look at his face—his sculpted jawline and prominent Adam’s apple were right in my line of sight. He was taller than me, so I had to tilt my head slightly to really take in his features.

My eyes dropped to his lips, and I blushed. When he smiled, revealing his pearly whites, I barely heard what he was explaining. I was far too caught up in the moment.

Then, he lowered his head to meet my gaze.

I blushed even harder and quickly looked away.

“I think I’m better off as a passenger princess…” I muttered, stepping away from his hold.

My heart was racing so fast—there was no way this was just a mere crush.

After the yacht ride, we headed back to the shore. The sky was already tinged with strokes of gold and blush, the sun lazily beginning its descent.

Isagani helped me down from the yacht—his hands firm yet careful around my waist as he lifted me off and onto the dock.

I tried not to gasp. I tried not to react.

But the butterflies in my stomach had a mind of their own.

"Thank you," I murmured, not quite trusting my voice to sound steady.

He offered a small smile in return, the kind that was calm and effortless, like everything about him.

We began walking, and just when I was about to say my goodbye for the day, I heard him call after me.

"Reya."

I turned.

"You doing anything tonight?" he asked.

"There’s a music festival happening. Biggest one of the year. It might be a nice experience—if you're up for it."

"A music festival?" I repeated.

"Yeah. We can have dinner first at the bistro. The activity area will be near there so it won't be much of a long walk. Thought you might want to try something… local.”

I hesitated for a heartbeat—but who was I kidding?

"I’d love that," I said with a nod and a small smile.

We agreed to meet again later. I returned to the hotel, heading straight to my room to freshen up. The sea breeze had tangled my hair and left a thin layer of salt on my skin. I showered, letting the warm water wash away the day’s sun, and afterwards, I sat by the mirror, drying my hair with gentle strokes.

As I reached for a clip, my gaze fell on my phone lying on the nightstand.

I blinked.

Wait—

How long has it been?

I tapped the screen. It had already been nearly three weeks since I arrived. Three weeks of salty wind, sleepy mornings, boat rides, unexpected friendships, and—

I swallowed.

A familiar bitterness crept into my mouth.

Soon, I’ll have to leave this island.

I took a slow breath and forced a smile at my reflection.

I stared at the girl in the mirror—sun-kissed skin, hair still damp from the shower, eyes a little softer than when she first arrived.

She looked... lighter. As if the sea had slowly eroded the weight she didn’t even know she’d been carrying.

It was strange—how a place I barely knew three weeks ago now felt like it knew me better than I knew myself.

For the first time in my life, I felt genuinely attached to something.

This island.

Its quiet, golden mornings.

The way the wind hums through the palms.

The laughter of strangers turned familiar.

And...

How I wish I could just stay.