DINNER FOR TWO

VERONICA’S POV

I wanted to run. That was my very first instinct. I wanted to run out of the school (is D.J going to school) and go straight home, pack my bags and get the hell out of Cebu. It was a gut reaction from all those years of hiding from Enrique Serrano Snr.

But it wasn’t the old man who had found me, it was his son.

My Enrique. Rico, who I had hurt so badly.

It had been two years since his parents’ accident; since his mother passed away and his father slipped into a coma. And in those two years, I had gotten rather comfortable with the simple life I had made for myself as a teacher at St.Lorenzo’s. “Would I have to run away again?” I wondered fearfully as the implications of being found after all these years hit me like a pile of bricks.

Or would Enrique forgive me?

There was only one way to know. I read the words on the luxurious card, squeezing tight as I steadied myself.

“Miss Veronica, are you okay?” Miss Santano asked, her voice ringing with concern.

“What?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something. Do you know who sent the flowers?”

“Oh…” I looked around and though the perky new History teacher was the only one interrogating me about the unexpected gift, I could tell that all the others in the staffroom were listening, even if they were pretending not to. “Yeah. Yes. They’re from a friend.”

A look of mischief bloomed in the younger woman’s eyes. “A very good friend, right?”

I gave her a tight smile. “I have to go to class now, Miss Santano. I’ve got the sophomores for first period.”

It turned out that was the best thing to say to get the overtly earnest Miss Santano off my back. She shuddered dramatically and wished me luck.

The sophomore class of St. Lorenzo’s were notorious for being rowdy.

Time flies when you’re having fun. But it freaking teleports when you’re dreading something. For all the rowdiness of the sophomores, first period came and left in a hurry. Second period barely lasted a minute. I was scared of third period because of another matter entirely – it was a double session for the senior, and D.J Serrano, the younger brother of the ridiculously intense man who had blown up my life would be in my class during those preciously long minutes – yet, my fear proved unfounded when the seniors poured into my class and D. J was nowhere to be found.

“Marcus, is anybody absent today?” I asked.

“Yes, ma’am. D.J is not feeling fine.”

“Oh.” For a second, I was relieved. Then the shame hit me. “How could I be glad that a teenager is not feeling fine just because I used to date his brother?”

“I hope he feels better soon,” I said with a deep feeling of remorse, then I started to teach the class.

The hours continued to fly by and before I knew it, school was over.

What did a woman wear when a man like Enrique Serrano II wanted to take her out? The question plagued me all day, between reckless thoughts of putting everything I owned into the trunk of a taxi and running away. As I set out a sleeveless green dinner gown and put on my make up, I felt like a lamb on its way to the slaughter…then I felt like a woman on her way to see her first love.

I guess I was both.

I saw the car as soon as I stepped out. A sleek black limousine. But it was the driver that caught my attention. Despite my circumstances, I couldn’t help my smile.

“Mr. Ignacio, it’s good to see you.”

The old man gave me a warm smile. “Miss Veronica, it’s been far too long. Have you been well?”

All I could do was smile for a moment. I hadn’t been well. Not one bit. Not in recent years.

“I’ve seen better days,” I ended up admitting.

He nodded with sagely understanding. “Hopefully, today will be one of them.”

“Amen,” I whispered, without knowing exactly how much I really needed the prayer.

The Galatea was a beautiful hotel in the swanky side of Cebu. It was luxurious and opulent, with a restaurant run by a Michellin star chef.

On normal days, it was way, way out of my pay grade. But today wasn’t a normal day.

I stepped into the restaurant and felt his eyes on me. Searing me like two laser beams. For a moment, all we could do was hold each other’s gaze and stare at each other. After all these years, Rico still looked at me the same way. Like he was thirsty and I was a tall drink of the only thing that could satisfy him.

At first, his intensity had terrified me. But later, I had gotten drunk on it too. On him. Which is why I had recklessly gotten pregnant when we’d been so young and unprepared. Now that I was back in his presence, in the same room with him, with those eyes of his watching me like a hunter watched his prey, it felt like someone had cranked up the heater in the restaurant and I was slowly melting like ice-cream. It suddenly occurred to me that it was a miracle I hadn’t even gotten pregnant for him much sooner.

“Hi,” I muttered, breaking the tense silence that stretched out between us.

He stood up and got the chair for me. I stepped into it wordlessly, like a robot on autopilot. His fingers brushed my arms as he stepped back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The warmth rushing over my body, the heat of the decadent memories he ignited with one single contact, it was too much suddenly. I found myself fanning myself with my hand.

The smirk on his face let me know that he knew what he was doing to me, and that made me angry. Anger, in turn, made me bold.

“Oh, grow up Rico!”

He arched a brow. “I haven’t said anything.”

“You didn’t have to. I’m still attracted to you. So what? It doesn’t mean anything. Especially when you look so…”

“So what?”

I shook my head.

“Oh! Don’t go quiet on me now, V. Tell me. How do I look?”

“Good,” I gritted through my teeth. Then I sighed. “You look good, Rico. Okay?”

“Thank you, Veronica,” he said graciously. “You look good too. Sexy. Attractive. Hot.” His voice went lower with every single word. “That dress looks so good on you but I’d like to take it off.”

My mouth dropped open in shock. “Rico…you can’t– you can’t speak to me like this.”

“I’ve always spoken to you like this, V. That’s hardly going to change just because you lied to me, ran away and had my kid.”

For the first time, he looked away from me. The reminder of the child we’d shared and lost hung over us like a heavy cloud while he pretended to busy himself with the menu. “How is it that so many years have gone by but I can still read him like a book?” I wondered.

I knew what should come next. He had given me an opening. I was supposed to apologize now, for running away and keeping Gwen from him. For losing her in the fire; if I had been at home with her, perhaps things would have been different.

But I couldn’t bring myself to say a word about her. Because there was still the fact that none of this would have happened to her if his family wasn’t bat-shit crazy. If his father had left us alone, if his mother hadn’t been too concerned about her children’s inheritance and trust fund to stand up to him, if I had done things differently myself, if I had never fallen in love with Rico…so many damned if’s…

“Would you like to place your order now, sir?” the Michellin star chef himself asked, drawing me out of my thoughts and daydreams. I’d been so caught up in useless thinking that I hadn’t seen him approach. I was a big fan, and I wanted to force some cheer for him like I did for my students. But I was suddenly so tired, and could barely bring myself to look at him.

I felt bad for that.

“V? What would you like to eat?” Rico asked gently. He had no business being so nice to me after everything that had happened between us. Everything we had done to each other. What was I even doing here? I wondered, burying my face in my hands.

“Nothing. I just- this was a mistake. I just…I came to talk to you. The whole- this dinner, you flirting with me. Just no.”

He nodded. “Okay. Chef Miguel, we’ll take a rain check on the meal. But could you send over a bottle of 1978 Château Margaux?”

“I don’t want anything-” I mumbled.

“The wine is for me. Thanks, chef.” The chef couldn’t have disappeared faster after being dismissed. Rico spoke to me. “Now, princess, would you like to leave or should we stay? Since you’re being so objectionable today.”

I let out a teary laugh at the idea that he still called me “princess” whenever I was being prissy, after all these years.

“Veronica, are you crying?”

“No-I’m just…” But the waterworks had already begun.

Before I knew it, he was kneeling in front of me. “Hey, it’s okay...V, it’s okay.”

But we both knew he was lying to me.