KABANATA 1: Fiancé

SLOAN

“Sloan, anak, kumain ka na,” Yaya Basya said while knocking on my door.

I stayed frozen in place, not even bothering to flinch or utter a word. My eyes were fixated on the wall, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. I pondered relentlessly, trying to figure out what to do next. It was like a mental chess game, with every option weighed and analyzed. But at that moment, I was stuck, undecided, and unsure.

I was completely wiped out. My body felt like it had run a marathon, my mind was running on fumes, and my heart felt like it had been through a rollercoaster of emotions. It was as if someone had sucked all the energy out of me, leaving me feeling like a deflated balloon.

It's been two weeks since Yosef died. Hindi ko alam kung makakahinga na ba ako ng maluwag dahil hindi pa ako pinupuntahan ni Daddy para kausapin ako tungkol sa susunod kong papakasalan. Usually kasi pinagkakasundo niya na ako kagaad apat hanggang limang araw matapos mamatay ng mga naging asawa ko.

Actually, that’s in my favor. I had a chance to mourn something I hadn’t done in two years. If I had to choose, I would rather not get married and forget my dream than have someone die again because they were tied to me. It feels like… I have a curse.

Nabaling ang tingin ko sa pinto nang bumukas iyon. Yaya Basya entered while carrying a tray of food. Bakas ang pag-aalala sa muka niya.

“Pasensiya ka na, Sloan. Kanina pa kasi kita kinakatok pero hindi ka naman sumasagot. Nag-aalala na ako sa ‘yong bata ka. Kumain ka na. Dalawang linggo ka nang mahinang kumain,” nag-aalalang sabi niya. Nilagay niya ang pagkain sa bed tray at saka ito nilapit sa akin.

“S-Salamat, Yaya…” I muttered.

She gave a nod and forced a smile, devoid of any humor. It’s clear that she’s concerned about me, and I appreciate having someone like her who genuinely worries about me. It’s a comforting feeling to know that there’s someone who cares.

“Ang Daddy mo nga pala…” Nag-angat ako ng tingin kay Yaya. Hindi ko mapigilang kabahan habang hinihintay kung ano ang sunod na sasabihin niya.

“A-Ano po si Daddy?” I nervously asked.

Huminga siya ng malalim. “Nagbilin siya na isang buwan mawawala dahil pupunta raw siya sa Italy dahil may aasikasuhing importante,” she explained.

“W-Wala na po ba siyang iba’ng ibinilin?” I asked again.

Umiling naman siya. I breathed a sigh of relief upon knowing that. It’s like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

Yaya Basya sat beside me and brushed my hair with her soft hand. “Ang laki-laki mo na, Sloan. Parang kailan lang ay binibilin ka pa sa akin ni Madame Bianca at pinapalitan pa kita ng diaper.” She chuckled.

I smiled because of that. “T-Thank you, Yaya Basya. Thank you for being there when I need someone the most,” I sincerely muttered and hugged her.

I wish Mommy was here. Kung nandito kaya siya, mangyayari ba ang lahat ng ito sa akin? I bet not.

“Proud ako sa ‘yo, Sloan. Kinaya mo lahat kahit sobrang bata mo pa. Sobrang lakas mo pero sana ay huwag mong abusuhin ang sarili mo, ha? Kapag kailangan mong magpahinga, tandaan mo na nandito lang ang Yaya Basya mo,” she whispered and hugged me tighter.

Lumipas ang araw ay lumabas na ako ng kwarto ko. Daddy’s absence has granted me a newfound sense of freedom within the confines of our home.

Our house is transformed into a suffocating prison whenever my father is around. The walls seem to close in, trapping us in a stifling atmosphere of tension and control.

Every corner is filled with his authoritative presence, making it impossible to feel at ease or truly call it home. The air becomes heavy with his demands and expectations, leaving no room for individuality or personal freedom. It’s as if we are constantly under surveillance, under his watchful eye, unable to escape his oppressive grip.

“Saan po namin ito ilalagay, Ma’am Sloan?” tanong ni Mang Junior habang hawak ang easel at ang malaking white canvas kung saan ako magpipinta.

“D-Diyan na lang po, Mang Junior.” I said and pointed to the perfect spot right next to the big tree in the garden, where a shadow awaits.

Nilibot ko ang paningin sa garden na madalas kung saan kami nagbo-bonding noon nina mommy at daddy. No words can express how happy I was back then.

When I close my eyes, I can vividly recall the joyous moments spent in this garden. It has been a witness to the countless happy memories shared with my mom and dad. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of my mom’s infectious smile and my own cute laughter as my dad playfully chased me around.

No’ng buhay pa si Mommy siya ang nag-aalaga dito. Siya ang nagtatanim at nagdidilig. Ayaw niyang pinapakialaman ang mga halaman niya. Though the garden is undeniably beautiful, just as it was before, however, there is a noticeable difference in the atmosphere when the true owner is present.

I couldn’t help but let out a satisfied grin as I gazed upon the masterpiece I had created on my canvas. The scene I had painted was a vivid reflection of the memories etched in my mind. It was a scene with my mom, dad, and me. Here in the garden, we are bonding and enjoying the beautiful summer weather.

Pagtapos kong magpinta ay pinakuha ko nang muli kay Mang Junior ang mga ginamit ko. Tinago ko sa kwarto ang pininta ko dahil ayaw kong makita iyon ni daddy.

Pagpatak ng ala-una ng hapon ay naghanda na ako para sa session ko sa psychiatrist ko.

I was diagnosed with moderate depression, and my doctor strongly recommended consulting a psychiatrist in addition to taking my prescribed medications. Sumang-ayon naman ako sa sinabi niya and now this is my second session with my psychiatrist.

Aside from my moderate depression, I also have a stuttering disorder. It is a speech disorder characterized by disruptions in the flow and rhythm of speech. It is often referred to as stuttering or stammering. People with stuttering disease, like me, may experience repetitions of sounds, syllables, or words, as well as prolonged pauses or blocks in their speech.

According to my doctor, posible daw na ang dahilan ng pagkakaroon ko ng stuttering disorder ay stress. Sinuggest niya rin na mag-undergo ako ng therapy para magkaroon daw ako ng improvement.

“Nandito na po tayo, Ma’am Sloan,” Mang Junior announced as we arrived at Pascual Hospital.

“T-Thank you po.”

Nang pinagbuksan niya ako ng pinto ay mabilis akong bumaba. Humigpit ang hawak ko sa strap ng bag ko bago tuluyang pumasok sa loob ng hospital.

Dumeretso ako sa elevator dahil alam ko naman kung saan ang clinic room ng psychiatrist ko. It is located on the sixteenth floor.

The elevator door was just about to close when, out of nowhere, someone came rushing in and stuck his hand in the gap, causing the elevator door to open again. Napasinghap pa ako dahil sa gulat.

Umusog ako sa bandang gilid ng elevator ng pumasok ang lalaking ilang dangkal na lang ay pwede nang mauntog sa pinto ng elevator.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” he apologized in a baritone voice while the door was finally closing.

“I-It’s okay,” I said, stammering as usual.

I couldn’t help but stare at him through the elevator door. He is busy with his phone, unaware that his thick eyebrows are about to collide.

He has sleek black hair, as dark as a raven’s wing. His face is captivating and capable of making hearts skip a beat. His piercing blue eyes are like two pools of the clearest ocean water. His nose is pointed, and his lips have a natural red hue.

Simple lang rin ang suot niya pero alam ko na lahat iyon ay mamahalin.

Nagtama ang paningin namin sa repleksiyon namin sa elevator door kung saan ko siya palihim na pinamamasdan. Napalunok ako at hindi magawang mag-iwas ng tingin.

Ever since Yosef passed away, I’ve never found myself in such close quarters with another guy. It’s been a real nightmare. The trauma from that experience has left me feeling like any man I’m with is just going to bring me physical pain. But this guy’s different. I don’t have that same gut-wrenching feeling with him. In fact, I think he’s genuinely kind and wouldn’t dream of hurting me.

“Okay ka lang?” he asked.

Mabilis naman akong tumango. “Y-Yes.”

“What’s your name?” tanong niya ulit.

Nag-iwas ako ng tingin at kinagat ang pang-ibabang labi. Hindi ako sanay na makipag-usap sa mga lalaki.

“S-Sloan. I’m Sloan De Falco,” utal na pakilala ko sa sarili ko.

He smiled. “That’s a unique name. By the way, I’m Dominic Velasco, but you can call me Domi for short.”

I don’t know, but I just found myself talking to Dominic casually. Nauutal pa rin ako pero hindi niya naman iyon pinapansin, which I found unusual dahil madalas kapag nakikipag-usap ako sa iba ay hindi nakakatakas sa mata ko na gusto nila akong pagtawanan o husgahan.

Bumukas ang elevator sa fourteenth floor. Lumabas si Dominic at bago tuluyang sumara ang elevator door ay ngumit siyang muli sa akin.

“Nice to meet you, Sloan,” he said before the door finally closed.

His calm smile, with its serene and unwavering presence, has firmly imprinted itself within the recesses of my mind.

I can’t explain it, but talking to Dominic just makes me feel so light. It’s like he’s not judging me at all, which is a relief. I don’t know why, but it’s a refreshing change from the usual conversations I have with others.

Mabilis na natapos ang session ko kay Dra. Mirandina. Sinabi niya sa akin na ipagpatuloy ko lang daw ang pagpipinta ko kung doon daw gumagaan ang loob ko. Though we’re just beginning this journey, but she seems confident that I’ll bounce back from my depression in no time, as long as I take it easy and don’t overwhelm myself.

Bago ako umuwi sa bahay at magpasundo kay Mang Junior ay dumaan muna ako sa malapit na mall. Balak ko kasing bumili ng mga art materials para sa mga susunod ko pang ipipinta.

I brought acrylic paint, oil paint, different kinds of brushes, canvas, a palette, and solvents. I also brought a book about painting to expand my knowledge. Hindi naman kasi ako professional.

Unang beses kong magpinta ay no’ng third-year college ako dahil may isa kaming subject na kailangan naming magpinta. I was pleasantly surprised when my professor not only liked my painting but also gave me the highest score in the entire class.

Ipapagpatuloy ko sana ang pagpipinta ko dahil sabi ng professor ko na may potential daw ako pero hindi iyon sinang-ayunan ni Daddy. Kaya ang ginagawa ko lang ngayon ay patago akong nagpipinta, lahat nang pininta ko ay nakatago sa kwarto ko.

“Well, well, well, look who’s here.”

Mabilis akong lumingon sa likod ko nang may magsalita doon. I was busy scanning books in the cooking section.

“S-Shirley…” I called her. I remember her. She was my bully from high school all the way through college.

She smirked and looked at me from head to toe. “I’m glad that you still remember me, stuttering loser. You didn’t change a bit, huh? Manang ka pa rin at walang improvement; in short, loser ka pa rin.”

Yumuko ako at hindi makapagsalita. Kagaya ng dati, hindi pa rin ako marunong lumaban. Hindi ko pa rin kayang ipagtanggol ang sarili ko. Tama nga siguro siya. Loser talaga ako.

I took a deep breath. “I-I’ll go ahead.” I was about to walk away, but she grabbed my arm and forced me to face her once more.

“Hindi ba tayo tapos mag-usap bakit aalis ka na agad?” She sarcastically said it with a fake smile flashing on her lips.

I tried to grab my arms back pero mahigpit ang hawak niya doon. “S-Shirley, please… B-Bitawan mo ‘ko…” I begged.

“We’re talking pa kasi, eh. Parang wala naman tayong pinagsamahan.” Mas lalong humigpit ang hawak niya sa braso ko.

“N-Nasasaktan na ak—”

“Let her go, Ms. Abajenza,” someone said in a familiar baritone voice.

Parang napaso na lumayo sa akin si Shirley at binitawan ang kamay ko. Nanlaki ang mata ko paglingon ko nang makita kung sino ang nakatayo roon.

Dominic’s face is serious, with a stern expression and furrowed brows. The lines on his forehead reveal a deep concentration, as if he is lost in thought. His eyes, intense and focused, seem to penetrate through the surroundings.

He was walking like a king while holding a book about… Little Red Riding Hood?

“Mr. Velasco…” Shirley nervously muttered.

“What is happening here?” seryosong tanong ni Dominic at nadako ang tingin sa akin. Nag-iwas naman ako ng tingin.

Ibang iba ang awra niya ngayon kaysa kanina. His presence now is undeniably authoritative and exudes a serious aura. Parang pagmamay-ari niya ang lahat ng nandito ngayon.

“Ah, kinukumusta ko lang po ang dati kong kaibigan, Mr. Velasco. We haven’t seen each other for a long na po kasi, right? Right?” sabi niya at kumapit pa sa braso ko.

Nang muli akong tumingin kay Dominic ay nakataas na ang kilay niya, hinihintay kung sasang-ayunan ko ba ang sinabi ni Shirley.

I was about to answer when he cleared his throat and gazed at his Rolex watch.

“Ms. Abajenza, I have zero tolerance for a bad attitude from my employees. Before you lie, make sure I didn’t overhear what you said to her earlier. It’s quite disappointing, to be honest. I hope you understand that I have no desire to see you in my company ever again, starting tomorrow.”

Pareho kaming nanlaki ang mata ni Shirley. “But why, Sir?”

“Because you’re fired,” he simply answered.

Bagsak ang balikat na umalis naman si Shirley. Bakas ang disappointment. Tiningnan niya pa ako ng masama na parang sobrang laki ng kasalanan ko sa kaniya.

Shirley may have treated me badly, but seeing her shoulder drop when she got fired made me feel sorry for her. It was clear she was really hurt.

“Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” Dominic asked and scanned my arms, gone was the serious and intimidating aura he had earlier.

I watched him do that. Kakakilala pa lang namin pero kung umasta siya ay parang matagal niya na akong kilala.

“C-Can you just not fire her?” lakas loob na tanong ko sa kaniya dahilan upang nadako sa akin ang tingin niya.

His brow furrowed. “Why would I? I don’t tolerate that kind of attitude in my company, Sloan. Pwedeng maging dahilan nang pagkasira ng image ng kumpaniya ko ang pinapakita nilang ugali sa ibang tao at sa labas ng kumpaniya ko. I won’t risk it.”

I can’t help but notice how he mentions my name. He does it so effortlessly, like he’s been doing it forever.

I gulped. “A-Ano ba ang pangalan ng kumpaniya mo?”

I feel like, with the way he talks, he’s not just referring to some ordinary small company. I think, malaki ang kumaniya niya dahil may image siyang prinoprotektahan.

“VMC. Does it ring the bell?” My eyes widen.

“Y-You mean…” Hindi ko na naituloy ang sasabihin ko nang tumango siya.

VMC, or Velasco Metal Corporation, is a major metal manufacturer in the Philippines. They dominate the metal supply market and provide materials for a wide range of products. They’re a big deal in the metal industry here. Almost everything metal-related comes from them. It’s like they have a monopoly on metal.

Akala ko ay coincidence lang na Velasco siya! I can’t say I know Velasco personally, but I have a feeling my dad might. Kilala niya naman lahat. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d crossed paths at some point.

“Ako na ang magbabayad,” alok niya na mabilis ko namang tinanggihan.

“A-Ako na lang. Nakakahiya. W-We just met. I have money naman,” I said.

“No, I insist. And I’m not saying that you don’t have money.” Inabot niya ang black card sa cashier at saka binayaran ang mga binili ko at ang binili niyang Little Red Riding Hood na story book.

Para kanino kaya iyon?

Akala ko ay aalis na siya pagkatapos ngunit mas lalo akong nakaramdam ng hiya nang magprisenta pa siyang ihahatid ako habang bitbit ang ilang paper bag na naglalaman ng mga pinamili ko.

“T-This is too much. Masyado na kitang naaabala,” I uttered, biting my lower lip.

“Don’t be. Hindi naman ako busy at saka hindi ka nakakaabala. I insisted, remember?”

Hindi na lang ako nagsalita pa ulit. I texted Mang Junior earlier, and, as expected, he was here already. Our car was conveniently parked across from the mall, and there he was, standing on the side, patiently waiting for me.

Tinuro ko kay Dominic ang sasakyan namin na kaagad naman naming dinaluhan.

“M-Manong pakikuha na lang po ng mga pinamili ko sa kaniya,” utal na sabi ko at tunuro ang mag paper bag na bitbit ni Dominic.

“Sige po, Ma’am… Ako na po niyan, Sir,” ani Mang Junior.

Habang abala si Mang Junior ay muli kong hinarap si Dominic. “T-Thank you talaga. I appreciate your help, Dominic.”

“You’re welcome, Sloan…” He smiled. “So, see you next time.”

When I arrived home, I immediately went straight to my room to rest, but instead of resting, I found myself painting. Painting him on my blank canvas using my brushes.

Hindi ko alam kung bakit ko siya pinipinta. Maybe because he is the only man who has been nice to me aside from Mang Junior.

Pagkatapos ng isang linggo ay tila muli akong nilagyan ng posas sa kamay nang ibalita sa akin ni Yaya Basya na naka-uwi na si Daddy. Kahit hindi ko pa siya nakikita ay ramdam ko na kaagad ang nakakasakal na awra na siya lang nakakagawa.

My one month of freedom is over, and I have to face prison again, especially since Daddy told Yaya Basya that I need to dress up nicely because today I will be meeting my fiancé.

While Yaya was fixing me up, a lot of thoughts started running through my mind again. Memories of what happened to me in the past two years came flooding back; it was like a whirlwind of thoughts swirling around in my head.

Hindi ko na kaya kapag may namatay na naman nang dahil sa akin. Mas pipiliin ko na lang na tumandang mag-isa kaysa may makitang mamatay na naman sa tabi ko.

Ngunit halos magwala ang puso ko nang makita kung sino ang nakatayo ngayon sa harap ko.

“Sloan, this is Dominic Adam Velasco, your fiancé.”