The following weeks passed quickly. We stayed at Nanay Victoria's home for two days before returning to Manila. Zachary and I wasted no time; he underwent counseling after our assessment, while I, on the other hand, had a therapy session. It was a little difficult for me because I had to go over everything again so that the doctor who was looking at me could understand my condition. Nevertheless, I was comforted to know that I had someone by my side the entire time.
I was diagnosed with PTSD. I'm not surprised because that's what my old doctor in America confirmed to me. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is not curable, but people with this condition can improve their symptoms significantly.
I couldn't help but be impressed with how professional Thelmo was at work. Although he and Zachary knew each other, he was not opinionated. He is a friend outside the hospital, while he is a doctor inside. He doesn't force me to talk if I don't feel comfortable. He supports everything I say or do.
I slowly closed my eyes as I felt the fresh air hit my face. Zachary and I are here today on the rooftop of his condo; he prepared a simple dinner set up here. I don't know why he did it, but even so, I appreciate his effort.
In the past few days, we have never talked about us. We focused on treatment and rest. We give ourselves time to heal while slowly accepting what happened.
It still hurts every time I think about the loss of our children. I still cry from time to time, and I am thankful that during those times Zachary was there. He would quietly accompany me and hug me after I broke down to make me feel like I wasn't alone.
"How are you?"
I slowly opened my eyes and smiled at the loss. Zachary was by my side; like me, he was looking at the stars dancing in the dark sky. He was holding a goblet containing wine while his elbows were slightly focused on the railings.
"I'm getting better; how about you?" I looked at him.
He looked at me. Just like his normal reaction every time he sees me, he stares at me softly. A smile curled his lips, as if he were satisfied with the peace seen on my face.
"I'm fine as long as you're okay," he replied, making me roll my eyes.
"Are you making a move?" I snorted and then turned around to go to the chair that was ready.
I heard him chuckle, and then he followed me. He sat in the seat opposite me. I also want to laugh because it feels like we're not together in his condo.
The dishes served on the table were shrimp in sour soup, grilled chicken, and chop suy. I was immediately hungry, so I voluntarily poured food on my plate. I didn't pay attention to Zachary anymore and went straight to eating. Just now, I'm being loved like this again.
I was already on the second transfer of rice on my plate when my eyes focused on what was in front of me. He just sat with his arms crossed, his eyes shining as he watched me. I couldn't help but look away for a moment.
"Why haven't you eaten yet?" I will ask. "Don't say that just seeing me full will make you full too," I tried to joke, even though I could feel the heat on both my cheeks.
He suppressed the smile that escaped his lips. "I won't say it then," he said.
I gave him an eyeroll before I spooned food onto his plate. "Eat now; maybe your abs will decrease." I avoided wincing at what I said, but it still showed up willingly.
I heard him laugh again. I couldn't help but smile. Only now have we acted like this again, calm and free.
"How are they?" I asked in the middle of our meal.
I knew that he sometimes took care of Daddy and Eunice's cases. That can't really be left alone because the process will not progress if it is not looked up to. He seriously looked up at me, weighing me.
"It's okay. I won't open it up if I can't hear it yet," I assured.
He finished swallowing the last bite of food before sitting down properly. "They are both dealing with case after case," he answered with a shrug.
"Even Daddy?" I frowned.
He looked away for a moment, seeming to think twice. In the end, he sighed and then looked at me carefully. I can see the fear in his eyes, thinking that I will be angry with what he says.
"Embezzlement, illegal possession of firearms, homicide, falsification of public documents, intentional abortion—"
"Wait," I interrupted what he was going to say and looked at him with wide eyes.
He was especially adjusted in his sitting position, slightly alarmed.
"How did you charge him with all of that?" I asked, confused.
I know my father; he's just a corrupt politician—well, apart from being a jerk to me, he doesn't just pick up or store unlicensed weapons. Zachary stared at me for a moment, and after making sure I wasn't angry and just confused, a smirk appeared on his lips.
"Connections, baby," he said proudly.
"Care to elaborate, Mr. Villarreal?" I rolled my eyes at him.
He leaned back in his seat and tapped his fingers on the table. "Well, aside from being a good doctor, I also took care of expanding my connections in politics and law," he began explaining. "I have a friend who is a mayor. The illegal weapons that were found in your house came from him. It is not new to me that there are some politicians who actually hire a hitman whenever they have a target, and that's what I used to pressure your father. Illegal possession of firearms, homicide."
My mouth fell open when I heard it.
"You're not going to get hurt in that? I mean, you are letting the real culprit escape," I said.
His tongue rolled in between his lips. "Let's just say... I also sided with justice."
"What do you mean?" I frowned again.
"Like you, he also got the justice he wanted in his own way," he said knowingly.
I just nodded. Even if he didn't elaborate, I get what he wanted to say. In other words, his friend took the law into his own hands.
"Eunice?" I differ.
He didn't answer immediately. He first poured wine into the glass he was holding before gently swirling it around. Later, he looked at me seriously.
"She just got out of the hospital; she's in jail again," he said.
"Hospital?" My jaw dropped when I heard it.
"Don't worry, she didn't try to kill herself," he snorted.
For the nth time I rolled my eyes at him and then took the bottle of wine. I also poured it into the empty glass that was next to me. "I'm confused, not concerned. Did you do something again?"
"I made her taste her own medicine," he said, smirking. "Just a little bit of poison, enough to send her temporarily to hell."
I blinked several times. "You did that?" I couldn't believe it.
"Are you mad?" His eyes widen quickly.
He swallowed a few times as if he were nervous when I didn't answer right away. He placed the cup on the table and focused his full attention on me. Gradually, sweat began to form on his forehead.
I laughed and shook my head. "No. It's just... I didn't expect you could do all that."
He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief after hearing what I said.
"Aren't you having trouble?" I was curious and foolishly took the glass I poured wine into.
I felt his gaze, which I did not return. "I came from that, and like I said, it fvcking drained me. I just don't want you to experience what I experienced."
I slowly looked up at him when he stood in his place. He walked closer to me, then extended his hand in front of me. I put down the cup without saying a word and then accepted it. He helped me stand up, then wrapped his arm around my waist. We danced quietly under the stars.
"I promised you that I would continue what you started; even if I split into pieces, I don't care because I know at the end of the day, just one hug from you will make me whole again," he whispered.
It was as if something caressed my system at that time. I placed my head on his chest and felt the fast beating of his heart. It served as music to my ears as our bodies swayed together.
In an instant, I understood why I was exhausted so quickly back then: I fought alone. Every time I fall, I expect only myself to get up. I took all the pain and anger out on myself. But now that we are together, the situation is different.
Do I still love him?
I don't know, and I don't want to find out right now. I want my heart to know him willingly. I want to wake up feeling that way without question or doubt.
"I won't stop you from doing what you want to do, but promise me that if you ever feel like giving up and need my strength, you'll run to me. I don't want you to lose yourself in this battle, Zach. I need you the way you need me too."