Forty Eight

I asked Mitch one day to check my email for me. Before she left for work, I gave her my Yahoo Mail password so she could access it. I was too scared to go out, so I asked her to do it instead.

I started getting worried when Mitch hadn't come home by past nine in the evening. It wasn't like her to be this late, especially since she hadn't mentioned anything about staying out longer tonight. In fact, she had told me earlier not to cook dinner because it was payday, and she wanted to buy me whatever food I wanted. I wasn't picky when it came to food, but I usually only ate around noon. Every morning, from the moment I woke up until late morning, I would just keep throwing up. Nothing, not even water, would stay in my stomach—I would vomit everything until I was dry heaving, spitting out nothing but saliva. Waking up each day was a struggle because this happened every morning. But by noon and into the evening, I could eat anything I wanted.

I was lying on the sofa, still waiting for Mitch, when the clock struck ten. I couldn't call her either, afraid that I might disturb her—she might be busy with something important or out with her colleagues. I knew that if I called, she would rush home immediately, and I didn't want to limit her activities just because of me. So instead, I chose to wait, snacking on some fruit while watching TV. Then I heard the door unlock. I quickly sat up, knowing it was Mitch.

"Why are you still awake? It's late," she said as soon as she entered, closing the door behind her. I could tell she was surprised to see me sitting there, eating.

"I couldn't sleep. I was worried about you—you've never been out this late before."

"Oh, I just had to take care of something important. Sorry I didn't let you know—it was unexpected," she said hesitantly. I noticed that she looked anxious, though she was trying to hide it. But I knew her too well; I could always tell.

"Mitch, is there a problem?" I asked, puzzled.

She slowly walked in, setting her bag and some shopping bags on the floor—things I couldn't recognize. She just dropped them without a second thought. She didn't answer my question, which only confirmed my suspicion that something had happened.

"Wait, have you eaten? I didn't cook since you said you'd take care of dinner. I just had a sandwich earlier," I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"That's what I kept thinking about earlier—that's why I was so worried about coming home late. I promised to buy you food, but now I'm home late instead. But don't worry about me, I already ate. Do you want something to eat?" She started to get up, but I stopped her.

"Hold on, Mitch. What happened? I know something's wrong—I can see it on your face. You've been acting anxious, and you look pale. You can't even look me in the eye properly."

"Okay… I admit, I feel anxious. I just don't know how to tell you this without making you cry," she said softly, finally meeting my gaze.

"Why? What's wrong?" My brows furrowed in confusion as nervousness swallowed me at the same time.

"Lui… the reason I was late is because Sean was waiting for me outside my office. He wanted to talk," she said while fidgeting her fingers. It felt like a bomb had just exploded in front of me.

We had expected this—that one day, Sean would come to her, asking questions. But even though we knew it was coming; I was still shaken by the news. My heart started pounding violently in my chest.

"Before you tell me what you two talked about, can you first tell me… did you let him know that you know where I am?" I asked cautiously.

I was terrified to hear her say that she hadn't been able to hold back and had finally told Sean where I was. She had mentioned it several times before, and I knew it was a real possibility. But even if she had, I would understand—after all, she was only worried about me. And deep down, I knew she had a point about everything she had told me regarding Sean and me.

I let out a sigh of relief when she shook her head.

"We were about to leave with my colleagues when the guard suddenly called me because someone was looking for me and had been waiting for quite a while. I already had a bad feeling, and I couldn't help but feel extremely nervous. The guard called him and told him I was outside. The moment I saw him, I knew he was sleep-deprived and anxious. It was evident on his face—deep exhaustion and fatigue—but he didn't seem to care because I could see and feel his determination," Mitch began her story, letting out a deep sigh. I started to tear up at what I was hearing.

"He introduced himself and then pleaded if we could talk. I agreed, and as we walked outside, I just followed behind him because I didn't know what to say first. He opened the back door of a car. I thought he was letting me sit there, but he just let me go in first before sitting beside me. That's when I realized his sister, Leigh, was driving. Apparently, they don't allow him to drive alone anymore since he almost got into an accident once because he was too dazed while driving. Luckily, the oncoming car managed to swerve in time, and nothing bad happened since neither of them was driving too fast," she continued. I couldn't hold back my sobs any longer. What would I do if something bad happened to him? My heart felt even more conflicted and shattered by everything I was hearing.

"They took me to a restaurant, and when we arrived, his sister was the one who ordered food for us because he had already started asking about you. He was crying while begging me to tell him if I knew anything. He was desperate to find you. His sister was also crying as she tried to console him, and I couldn't help but cry too because I felt so sorry for him. You're both hurting so much, and you love each other deeply. He only stopped talking about you and your plans together when the food arrived. But his sister scolded him because he barely touched his food. Even while eating, he thought of you. He said he missed the food you always cooked for him," Mitch narrated, sniffling.

"He said he never imagined that you would disappear just like that. All he knew was that you were both excited to celebrate your first anniversary together. He even showed me the bracelet he was wearing—it was from you. He said you left it on top of the bed, next to your bag filled with your things and the food you had prepared for your trip. He also told me he's been staying at your apartment, waiting for you to return. He wanted to be there when you came back. His sister told me that when he went to the restroom, she was actually the one who picked him up from your apartment because he refused to leave. He kept saying he couldn't not be there when you returned. His sister found him lying on your bed, crying, hugging your pillow, with your packed bag for the camping trip beside him. No one has touched your things in the apartment. He even talked to the landlord and paid several months in advance because he was convinced you would come back. He said he knew you just needed time to rest. Lui, he's not angry at you. Honestly, every word he said about you was filled with worry and love. They also found out that you had sent an email to your previous employer and officially resigned," she added.

"Leigh… Is she mad at me because of what happened between me and Sean?" I asked when she paused for a moment.

"I don't think so. There wasn't a trace of anger on her face when we spoke. What I heard in her voice was sympathy—for her brother. This is the first time they've seen Sean like this, the first time he's ever broken down like this," Mitch replied. I continued sobbing. It hurt even more hearing about his suffering. A part of me just wanted to give up on hiding because I felt so sorry for him.

"What happened to his company? Did they mention anything? I know he needs to focus on it since it just started."

"Nothing. And I thought it was best not to ask, or else they might suspect something. I was already nervous that they would see through my lies. Honestly, I almost gave in when Sean started begging me to tell him where you were. Good thing his sister stopped him and calmed him down," she said sadly.

"You need to stop crying. You know it's bad for the baby, right? That's why I was nervous when I saw you earlier—I wasn't ready to tell you everything because I knew you'd end up crying like this again. Why did this have to happen to you two?" she said, frustrated.

"Did they say anything about whether they suspect why I suddenly left?"

"No, I didn't hear anything about that."

"What about their parents? How did they react when they found out and saw what Sean was going through?"

"I think their dad is already helping with the search, but they didn't mention anything about their mom. If I'm not mistaken, they've already hired someone to trace you. That's why I was scared when I found out—I felt like I had committed a huge crime, that's how scared I was," Mitch admitted it, and I felt guilty upon hearing what she said.

"I'm even more confused now, Mitch. I don't know what to do anymore. The pain I feel has doubled after hearing all of this. And I'm sorry because you're also struggling because of me. I know it's not easy to lie, and I know you felt guilty when you saw his condition and heard him begging. Ainee must be feeling the same way right now," I said, still in tears.

"I know you're hurting deeply. I can feel it. And it hurts me too, seeing both of you like this. You've both become miserable. You're both broken. What do you want me to do to help you both, even just a little?"

"Nothing. I don't even know what to do myself. I keep crying over our situation. My heart feels so heavy, but I'm scared. I don't know what to do. It's so confusing! I keep thinking about giving up because that would be the easiest thing to do, but I can't. I can't because my mind keeps replaying his mom's words, and how she placed that check in my hand. You know me, Mitch. I'm not that kind of person. Even though I came from a broken family, I never loved someone just because of their status in life," I said between sobs.

"Shhh, stop crying. Remember, it affects your baby too. Hold on," she said before leaving for a moment. She quickly grabbed the things she bought and hurried to the kitchen.

She handed me a glass of water, and we both drank in silence.

"You should go to bed now. It's late, and you're not supposed to stay up late," she consoled me. I nodded slowly and stood up.

"Thank you. And I'm really sorry," I said before she guided me to my room. She waited until I was lying down before leaving me alone.

As soon as I was by myself, tears started falling again. I remembered Sean—his face whenever he teased me while we lay next to each other in bed when he slept over at my apartment. We would stay up late because he always had endless stories to tell. And if he noticed I was getting sleepy before he finished talking, he would tickle me. He always wanted to be the one to brush my hair when I woke up or after I took a bath because he loved how dark and straight it was. At first, he didn't believe that I never went to a salon, but after spending so much time with me, he realized it was true. From then on, he would always volunteer to brush my hair.

He often imagined that if we had a daughter, he wanted her to inherit my hair, and he would be the one to brush it. He said it was fine if our son inherited his hair instead. He wanted our children to inherit my eyes so they wouldn't get bullied at school because he was always bullied as a kid for having extremely small eyes. In the mornings, he wanted me to be the one to make his coffee because as soon as he stepped out of the room, the first thing he'd do was grab his guitar and serenade me while I cooked breakfast. He said it would make me enjoy cooking more and make the food taste better since it would be overflowing with our love. Sometimes, he was so cheesy that I would threaten to push him off the terrace because I couldn't take his corny lines anymore.

But honestly, I miss all of that about him. I miss hearing him play the guitar and sing to me. His favorite song to play for me is 'Just The Way You Are' by Billy Joel, with that signature wink at the end of his song. He used to joke that the reason I was so crazy about him was that he always serenaded me and that he would never stop singing to me, even when we were old. He said it was because of his guitar playing and singing that I was so hopelessly in love with him. He had a lot of silly antics—just about anything, really. That's why I always teased him in return, because he was so full of himself, and I knew he was just joking.

I don't know what time it was when sleep finally took over while I was reminiscing about my time with Sean.

***

"Lui! Hurry up! We might be late for your doctor's appointment!" I heard Mitch yelling one Saturday morning. She woke me up so early—more excited than I was for my check-up today with my OB.

"I'm coming! You know I can't move fast because I'm afraid of slipping. And you—why are you screaming so early in the morning? It's a good thing our neighbors haven't complained yet!" I scolded her.

"Sorry! I'm just excited to be the godmother!" she grinned.

It had been months since I last heard anything about Sean. He only showed up once to ask Mitch about me, then he disappeared. Maybe he got tired of looking for me. Maybe he realized I wasn't worth wasting his time on when he had a company to manage and grow.

"Yieee! Let's go!" she said excitedly.

"Hey! Calm down! You're acting like you're the father. Were you there when this baby was made? Because I don't remember being informed?"

"Oh, come on! You know I'm the ultimate godmother! I'm just really excited because today we'll find out my godchild's gender!" We laughed as we left her unit.

Over time, I started to feel better. I didn't cry as much anymore—only sometimes. I got a job at the TV network where Mitch worked because she recommended me. It just so happened that they were creating a new show and needed an assistant writer, so she didn't hesitate to submit my résumé. She even mentioned to the company's executives that I had previously worked at a regional network station, but I had to leave, and she was the one who replaced me in my old position. That's why I didn't have trouble getting in. My job as an assistant writer wasn't stressful since our program only aired once a week.

"Congratulations! It's a healthy baby boy!" my OB happily announced after my ultrasound results came out.

"Thank you, Doc!"

"Your weight is very good—just right. Just maintain your healthy food intake, remember all the restrictions, and continue taking your vitamins and milk. I'll see you next month. And just a reminder, we'll be seeing each other more frequently since your due date is getting closer, okay?"

"Yes, Doc. Thank you."

As planned, Mitch and I went shopping after my check-up.

"Mitch! That's enough! You've picked out so much already! Don't you know that babies grow fast? If we buy too many clothes now, they'll just go to waste," I complained. She was grabbing baby clothes like they were trash on the street.

"Just let me be! And don't worry, Mommy, I'm paying for all of this! That's why I brought you shopping, remember?"

"Wait, you're paying for everything? I've already set aside money for the baby because I knew this day would come when I'd need to buy all his essentials. Can you at least save some money for yourself? It feels like you're spending everything on the baby! Mitch, I can't allow that—it's too much already. Enough, okay?" I explained.

"It's totally fine with me! I'm just so happy that we have a baby to take care of. Besides, I'm glad my money is going to him. Honestly, I'm grateful to this baby because, thanks to him, my life suddenly found direction. I don't even feel like going to bars and getting drunk on my days off anymore. Kim was so happy when she found out I stopped partying!" she said.

"Even so, it's still not right for you to spend all your money on the baby. I'm already stressed out just thinking about how spoiled he's going to be because of you! Look, you already bought his crib and bathtub last month, and now you're shopping for his clothes again. Mitch, I have money for him. I prepared for this—I'm okay. You've already done so much for the two of us, and I'm truly grateful," I told her, feeling shy.

"Oh, come on! Stop being dramatic. I'm happy doing this, okay?"

After shopping for the baby's clothes, we grabbed some food and stopped by the grocery store. By the time we got home, it was almost nighttime.

My room was already packed with baby stuff—even though he wasn't born yet, he already had so many things waiting for him. Thanks to his godmother, shopping had become her new hobby. I felt so embarrassed, but Mitch wouldn't stop. Sometimes, she'd even struggle to carry all the things she bought home. She even bought my milk and vitamins—I didn't even realize she had taken my prescription to know exactly what I needed.