Gabie's POV
"So come on!" Jhay tugged me along like I was a child. We were heading into the grocery store, trying to get close enough to Miggy so we could talk to him. My heart was pounding with nervousness and a flood of questions, but Jhay kept a steady grip on my hand, trying to stop me from breaking down.
They were chatting happily while picking out fruit alongside a woman. Their cart was full.
"You mean he's been with that woman before? He texted me earlier, and I even got some food he sent through a courier," Jhay whispered.
As we got closer, I saw the woman hug Miggy sideways. They stood side by side in front of the fruit section. My eyes drifted to the mangoes—they were right there in front of them. Of all the fruits, mangoes were my favorite. Miggy knew this because he once gave me a mango after Jhay told him how much I loved ripe mangoes and mango float. I still felt a bit sick from jealousy.
Miggy's complexion was light and tall, almost like a mestizo—unlike me, a full Filipina. I couldn't quite tell if the woman was beautiful because they kept their backs turned toward us.
"Damn! I think I'm done liking mangoes after today," I muttered.
"I think you're happy, sir, buying mangoes just to stay longer there. How do we get some for ourselves?" Jhay teased, noting how hard it was for Miggy to notice us standing so close.
They shifted slightly and finally turned around, laughing, but their smiles froze when they saw us behind them.
"Gabie? I thought you were busy with your thesis?" Miggy said, shocked, eyes flicking between me and Jhay.
"Does that mean when Gabie's busy, you're with someone else?" Jhay fired back.
I couldn't speak. My throat tightened, tears threatening to spill.
"N-No! It's not what you think!" Miggy stammered. The woman looked confused, clearly not understanding what was going on.
"So, what does this mean, then?" Jhay pressed, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh no! I'm dead!' It's not like we gave up. We're just… figuring things out," Miggy tried to explain.
"S-she's…" Jhay cut him off before he could finish.
"What? Are you going to deny it? Even after being caught? I thought you understood Gabie's situation and would wait for her. But what did you do today? You wasted my trust—and Gabie's trust!" Jhay's voice cracked. "I was rooting for you. I thought with a little more patience, Gabie would let down her guard. But you ruined it all. So now, suffer!"
I bowed my head and started crying after hearing Jhay's harsh words.
Suddenly, the woman stepped forward. "Excuse me, but I think you're misunderstanding."
"Who are you? Are you part of this conversation? Are you Miggy's girl?" Jhay snapped.
She said calmly, "I'm his sister."
I froze. "His sister?" My mind reeled. I wanted to disappear right there.
"That's why he's dead to her," she said, pointing at me.
"His older brother?" I whispered, stunned.
The woman smiled softly, "That's why we've been secretive. No one knows—not even my mom mother. We're worried about her mental health. She struggles after Dad passed away, and it's been hard deciding how to tell her about Gabriella." She glanced at Miggy. "She asked to meet you, Gabie. She's been rooting for you, even if you haven't met yet."
Miggy sighed. "That's why I haven't introduced you yet. I'm sorry."
I felt the embarrassment swell inside me. How could this day get any worse?
"Anyway," Miggy continued, "Gabie, this is my sister Gabriella. Gabriella, this is Gabie—the girl I've told you about. And Jhay, this is my sister."
We exchanged shy greetings, still stunned and embarrassed.
"I'm so sorry for not telling you earlier," Miggy said, his voice full of regret.
I couldn't speak, but I nodded softly.
His face lit up, then he surprised me by kissing my forehead.
"Thank you, Gabie," he whispered.
Jhay squeezed my hand tightly, still holding it. I looked away, overwhelmed by the moment.
"S-sorry, sir," Jhay said quietly, smiling at the awkwardness.
Miggy smiled back warmly. "No need to apologize. I admire how much you care for Gabie. She's lucky to have you."
The conversation softened, and the tension faded. We ended up eating dessert together, even though they invited us for dinner.
On our way out, Miggy handed me the mangoes.
"Thanks for this," I said, smiling weakly.
"Take care, Gabie. See you after your defense?" he asked.
"Okay. See you," I replied.
As we left, I waved goodbye, still feeling a mix of shame and relief.
Later, at home, my phone buzzed. Miggy was calling.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Gabie. Are you home? I sent a message earlier but didn't get a reply."
"Sorry, I didn't notice."
"Did I disturb you?"
"No, it's okay."
"Just don't stay up too late, okay? Let me know if you need help."
"I'm almost done. Just need to print and bind the thesis."
"Alright. Good night, Gabie."
"Thanks for calling. Good night."
Miggy's POV
Gabriella teased me so hard the other day after she told Meynard some embarrassing story about me, and now they've teamed up just to harass me back.
Her condo unit is just a few floors below mine—same building. It was the only one available when I was looking for a graduation gift for her. Since then, we've basically treated both places as shared space. They often crash in my unit, or I'd stop by her after work. Meynard doesn't always go home early, especially when we decide to have dinner together. Either Gabriella brings food her cooked, or we eat at her place. It's a cozy little setup we've fallen into.
Right now, she's still waiting for callbacks from the companies she applied to. She doesn't want help—refused when I offered to refer her. Said she wanted to do it on her own. I admire that about her. From the beginning, she's been grounded, principled. I doubt she would've accepted the condo gift if I hadn't insisted.
This morning, I woke up before five. I reached for my phone on the bedside table, debating whether to send a message. Eventually, I gave in.
I picked up my phone from the bedside table, still groggy from sleep but already thinking about Gabie. I typed out a quick message: "Good morning. Good luck with your defense later. I know you can do it."
I wasn't expecting a reply—it was barely past five in the morning—but to my surprise, my phone buzzed almost instantly.
"Good morning. I'm nervous. But, thank you."
I smiled to myself. Of course she was nervous. It was a big day.
"No, don't be," I typed back. "Just focus and stay confident. Avoid coffee if you can—it might make you more jittery."
I set my phone down on the bed and grabbed a towel, ready to head for the shower. But before I could take a step, another message came in.
"Yeah, I won't. Thanks again."
I replied quickly, "Don't mention it. Take care."
She answered almost right away: "Have a nice day and take care too."
The corners of my lips tugged into a grin. Somehow, even short exchanges with her had a way of grounding me.
Instead of going to the gym, I decided to cook breakfast. I called Gabriella to come up and join me—figured he'd be up early anyway. A few minutes later, I heard the keypad beep. She walked in like she owned the place, which, to be fair, I encouraged.
"Good morning, bro!" she said cheerfully as she walked toward the kitchen island.
"Morning."
"Need help?"
"Yeah—make us coffee."
She nodded and got to work as I finished cooking bacon and eggs. I threw together some pancakes too since we were out of rice for fried rice.
We ate quietly at first. Then I asked, "So, where are you off to today?"
"Nowhere. It's boring, big bro. I'm not used to having nothing to do."
I chuckled. "That's normal for new grads. You've got to wait it out until the callbacks come in. But I did tell you, if you want, I can connect you with someone I know."
"Bro," she groaned. "We've talked about this."
"I know, I know. Just reminding you since you're bored."
She shook his head but smiled. "No worries. I actually thought of something to do."
I raised a brow. "Nothing stupid, I hope?"
She laughed. "Definitely not! You'll find out when you get home later."
"Hmm. Okay. But you better not be planning anything shady."
"Relax. Now go shower before you're late!"
She shooed me toward my room and started cleaning up the dishes on her own. I let her. She liked doing things her way anyway.
I was about to leave for work when Gabriella called out again.
"Bro, isn't Gabie defending her thesis today?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Do you have anything planned for her later?"
"Not yet. Why, do you have an idea?"
She grinned. "Flowers. A bouquet. She deserves it."
"Nice. Thanks. You take care of it, okay?"
"Of course. Good luck at work!"
***
When I got to the parking lot, Meynard was already there, wiping down my old car—which he now used.
"Good morning, lover boy!" he teased.
I rolled my eyes. "Good morning. What's with the detailing?"
He glanced at the sparkling hood proudly.
"I rented the space next to our lot for a makeshift garage. Built a little roof—didn't want it exposed to the elements."
"You? Spending on wood and galvanized iron?" I raised a brow, surprised. "You're usually the 'frugal' king."
He chuckled. "It's still cheaper than getting it repainted. That's a sentimental car."
True. I knew how careful he was with money—supporting his brother, handling their household expenses after my nanny and Manong retired from their work. I sometimes helped with their groceries so he wouldn't be too burdened.
"You're serious about this."
"Dead serious," he said as he folded his rag. "Even bought wax. I'm not letting this baby get scratched."
I laughed and got into the passenger seat.
"Alright then. Let's go."