FAMILY AFFAIR

“Woah, Beshie, you’re blooming today,” Mariel teased Flora Amor the moment she walked into the classroom.

Flora Amor's cheeks warmed as a soft laugh escaped from her lips. . She still couldn’t get over what happened last Friday at Anton’s house. Now, she found herself waiting for Dixal to call her name—but he still hadn’t. Maybe he wasn’t around yet.

“And you? Why are your eyes so puffy?” she countered, turning the teasing back on her friend.

“Stayed up late watching TV,” Mariel replied as she slid into the seat beside her, since Anton hadn’t arrived yet.

“Beshie, there’s a new Korean drama on GMA. Have you seen it?”

“Goodness, Beshie, don’t ask me that. We don’t even have a TV,” Flora Amor said, slipping her backpack under her chair.

Mariel’s jaw dropped.

“You don’t even have a TV?!” she blurted.

A few of their classmates turned to look at them.

Flora Amor nodded.

“So what appliances do you even have at home?” Mariel asked curiously.

“A fridge,” Flora Amor answered quickly.

“We don’t need anything else, Beshie. The fridge is more than enough for us.”

“Well, I guess that makes sense,” Mariel conceded.

Just then, one of their classmates walked in with news.

“Guys, no classes today. The teachers are at another conference!” he announced before hurrying back out.

The whole class erupted in cheers.

“Let’s go hang out, Beshie!” Mariel suggested excitedly.

“Where to?”

“Anywhere! Let’s just wait for Bakla so the three of us can go together,” she said with a grin.

They waited for Anton at the shed outside their department building.

Flora Amor’s gaze wandered toward the construction site nearby. Where was Dixal? Could he be busy with work?

A car pulled up in front of their department, and suddenly she remembered the man she’d encountered once—the one who appeared when Anton left her waiting too long at the covered walk.

She couldn’t recall his face anymore, especially since he’d been wearing sunglasses. But why did her heart start racing just thinking of him? That kind of feeling, she only ever got with Dixal.

Her eyes drifted back to the construction site.

Dixal, where are you?

Her day always felt incomplete if she didn’t see him—or at least hear his voice.

“Beshie, why don’t we just go ourselves?” Mariel broke the silence.

“I think I’ll just go home. I’ll drop by the library first, then head back,” Flora Amor replied.

“You sure?”

She nodded.

“Mom’s not feeling well.”

“All right then. I’ll go ahead. Take care, okay?” Mariel said, leaving her behind.

Once more, Flora Amor looked at the building under construction. Maybe her boyfriend really wasn’t coming to work today.

She headed for the library, but her mind wasn’t there. After a few minutes, she left. Better to go home and help her mother with chores. Her mom would surely be glad to see her. She hadn’t gone to the market because she was unwell.

But what greeted Flora Amor outside their house made her chest tighten.

“We don’t need your money! Get out! Get out of here!” Harold’s angry voice rang out.

Alarmed, she hurried inside, her steps quick and unsteady. She found her mother trying to hold Harold back while her father stood there, clearly wanting to approach.

“Papa?!”

Both parents turned in surprise.

“Ma?” she asked in confusion when she saw her mother crying while holding Harold.

“Pa, what’s going on?” she pressed, dropped her bag to the floor and rushed toward them.

“Nothing, anak. I just said something that upset your brother,” her father answered gently.

“Hey, Harold, what’s this drama? Stop it! Show some respect to our parents!” Flora Amor scolded her younger brother sharply.

“You too! You’re just as numb! You only think of yourself! You don’t care about what’s happening around you!” Harold shouted back.

Her mother let go of him.

Fueled by anger, Flora Amor lunged at Harold and slapped him across both cheeks.

“You fool! You’ve lost all respect for us. Is this what they’re teaching you in school?”

Harold glared at her.

“You’re numb, that’s why you’re clueless about everything that’s going on!” he shouted again before storming out of the house.

“You bastard! Don’t you dare come back here!” she yelled after him.

“Stop it, Flor,” her mother tried to calm her down.

“Ma, why do you let Harold act like that in front of you?”

“Enough!”

Flora Amor went rigid. Never before had her mother raised her voice at her. She looked at her father, silently asking for answers.

He held her by the shoulders.

“It’s my fault, anak. Don’t be angry at your brother,” he said quietly.

“But, Pa—look, it’s fine that you’re hardworking. But forgetting about us just because of selling fish at the market—that’s not right anymore. We’re not even asking for money all the time,” she protested.

Her parents exchanged a heavy glance. Her mother lowered her head, sobbing.

“Anak, I hope you can forgive me. I’ve made so many mistakes with you all, but I’ll make it up to you. I promise I will,” her father said, hugging her tightly.

“It’s okay, Pa,” she whispered, patting his back.

“Just spend more time with us. Harold only got mad because he misses you at home.”

“Maybe you should go,” her mother suddenly said, speaking to her husband while holding back tears.

“Ma, why are you sending him away? He just got home,” Flora Amor snapped.

Her father released her and gave her a faint smile.

“It’s fine, anak. I’ll stay outside for now.”

“Ma! What’s wrong with you two? You’ve never been like this,” Flora Amor protested.

Her mother said nothing.

“I’ll leave for now. I’ll come back when things have calmed down,” her father murmured before walking out.

“Pa, don’t go!” she cried after him, but he didn’t even look back.

“Ma, what’s happening? Why are you siding with Harold and driving Papa away?” she demanded, her voice breaking.

Instead of answering, her mother collapsed onto the worn sofa, covering her face with her hands, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Ma, please, just tell me what’s wrong. Why did you two fight?” Flora Amor pleaded, kneeling in front of her and shaking her shoulders.

“Ma!”

“It’s better if you don’t know. Do you understand me?” her mother flared up when she finally lifted her face.

Flora Amor was stunned. Her mother had been shouting at her all day—for no reason she could understand. And now her own brother had called her numb?

Her chest ached. She couldn’t believe her mother would lash out at her like this.

“You’re so cruel, Ma!” she burst out, tears streaming down her face.

“You know how much I wanted to see Papa, and you just drove him away like that.”

Her mother’s eyes blazed.

“Cruel?!” she shouted, shoving Flora Amor so hard that she fell against the table behind her.

“Do you have any idea what I’m going through right now? And you dare say I just drove your father away like it was nothing?!”

Flora Amor whimpered. “We could’ve talked about it calmly. Why do you have to shout at me?”

She broke down completely. She wasn’t used to violence. Her mother was loud sometimes, yes, but she had never been physically harsh.

Yet now, she had shoved her and screamed at her.

“Get out,” her mother ordered in a low, hard voice.

“Ma—”

“Get out!”

Terrified and crushed, Flora Amor bolted out of the house, tears blurring her vision.

She would find her father. That poor man—so gentle, so kind—hadn’t even tried to defend himself against her mother’s anger.

But when she reached the corner, he was gone.

She searched along the highway, but he was nowhere to be found.

Defeated, she sank to the roadside, her heart heavy with pain.

She stood again after a while. She would go back to school, spend the rest of the day there. She couldn’t go home—not yet.

................................

There she was, staring blankly at a book she wasn’t reading.

'You’re numb! You only think of yourself! You don’t care about anything around you!'

Harold’s words echoed in her head, and tears spilled down her cheeks. How could he say such things to her? She had always thought of herself as the most considerate daughter and sister. She never asked her parents for much, knowing her siblings needed money too. And yet he dared call her selfish?

She even pretended eggplant was her favorite dish—because it was the only vegetable her siblings wouldn’t eat. She’d tell her mother she’d happily eat it all, giving the tastier dishes to her siblings. And still—selfish? How could he say that?

She muffled her sobs behind the book, hiding her face from anyone nearby.

Her chest ached. Her mother knew how much she longed to see her father, yet had driven him away without explanation. She had shouted at her—then cast her out.

A soft, broken cry escaped her. If she didn’t let it out, she felt like she’d suffocate.

She rubbed at her back where she had hit the table earlier. But the sting of that shove was nothing compared to the pain of her mother’s harsh words—and Harold’s accusation.

She cried harder, not realizing the sound had drawn the librarian’s attention.

“Shh… is something wrong?” the librarian asked softly, sitting beside her.

Flora Amor shook her head quickly, wiping her tears.

The librarian handed her a handkerchief.

“Thank you, but please… no,” she murmured, standing abruptly and hurrying to the restroom.

At the sink, she splashed her face with water, staring at her swollen eyes in the mirror. She took a deep breath, grabbed some tissues, and left the bathroom—straight out of the library.

She walked with her head down, not knowing where to go. She didn’t want to go home. She had no phone to call Mariel, and only enough money for the ride back later.

With a heavy sigh, she kicked an empty water bottle on the path.

Just earlier, before stepping into class, she had been so happy. And now—now it felt as though the sky and earth had crashed down on her.

She lifted her head when a car horn blared. She hadn’t realized she was already standing in the middle of the road, near the gate.

Startled, she ran to the covered walk, bowing her head so no one would notice her puffy eyes.

Dixal, where are you? she whispered to herself, feeling her tears threaten to fall again.

She sighed once more, trying to steady herself—when suddenly someone took her hand.

“Dixal!” she gasped, turning to him.

He smiled at her, silently walking her out of the campus. He noticed her swollen eyes but didn’t ask.

After a while, he faced her.

“Wanna come with me?”

She nodded instantly.

Still holding her hand, he looked around cautiously before they ran together toward his car and climbed in. He sped off from the school grounds.

Flora Amor wondered why he was in such a rush, but she didn’t ask.

Silence settled between them, though she noticed how often he glanced at the side mirror, as if checking if someone was following.

Finally, after some time, he smiled again.

About half an hour later, they entered through a large gate and drove further in until they reached a small, old house.

He stepped out first, then went around to open the door for her.

“Your house?” she asked at once.

He nodded with a mischievous grin.

Puzzled, she glanced around. From what she could tell, they were inside a subdivision. All the neighboring houses were large and beautiful.

So why was this house different? The paint was peeling, the structure small and old—barely more than an apartment.

Dixal chuckled softly, clearly guessing her thoughts, before taking her hand again and guiding her inside.