Coffee in the wee

Pork Adobo Seasoned With Love?

I am standing by the bed, gazing at you as you sleep. You look so tender in your sleep. Almost like a baby. In a brief span, I imagine that soon, I'd wake up to this everyday because we will be living together. We'd be washing the dishes together, watching horror flicks at night as we both scream at random scare stunts, talking about our future and our dream destinations. I smile like crazy. This love I feel for you is definitely a hundred times deeper than Mariana Trench.

We are at my apartment. Earlier, prior to checking out, we agreed to be with each other's company for another night before a new working week begins. You demanded that it should be at my place this time since I was able to go to yours already. We even dropped by a grocery store to get some supplies for dinner; ever since I told you about my self-proclaimed kitchen prowess, you did not stop bugging me to cook for you... so here we are.

With a gleaming smile of contentment, I slowly sit on the edge of the bed as I carefully approach your arm with my hand, caressing it to wake you up. "Harv..." I whisper.

Your body refuses to budge.

"Harv... dinner's ready." I repeat, almost to your ear.

You jerk and open your eyes, looking at my smiling face you say. "Yes, babe?" Your tone exhausted.

Stunned, I stutter. "B-babe?"

You suddenly sit up and get out of bed, your eyes surprised. "Did I say that?"

"You just did." My face, unsure.

Did he dream about someone he called this way before? Silence fills the air for a moment. I don't want this awkwardness so I brush the 'babe' away and force a smile. "Anyway, let's go eat?"

"Okay..." You say without looking.

I get out of bed and slowly walk towards the dining area, about 15 feet away. I stand by the table as I watch you slowly approaching the dining, your face blank. I gesture you to the chair and we both sit down, opposite each other.

"Wow!" You blurt, almost sounding like you are faking it. "I love adobo." You continue.

"I hope you'll like it." I'm still wearing the same forced smile. I can't take the 'babe' off my head for some reason. "Let's eat." I invite, my tone almost uninterested.

We start eating silently, almost eerie.

As I swallow each serve of the meal from my plate, I just can't stop my mind from thinking: Who is this babe? Am I being unreasonably jealous? FUCKKKK!!! Why do I feel like I'm emotionally injured? This is not even serious... It's just a word! It could not even be from his dream, or maybe he really wants to use that for us... that he meant that... but, if so, why would he react the way he reacted? Or... maybe it's me putting meaning to things. I can't! My inner saboteur is driving me insane.

"I love your adobo." You casually say, running your fingers through your hair as if you don't care. "You... okay?" You add, tilting your head in a certain way.

I force another smile. "Yes, I'm good. Uhm... well, my adobo's seasoned with love, that's why..." I reply, my tone almost emotionless. What the fuck did I just say? Seasoned with love?! I'm internally cringing at my own absurdity.

You say no word and continue eating. Just how insensitive?!

"Who's babe?" I can't help my inner Leo from manifesting.

You give me an uncertain look. As soon as you finish swallowing, you put down your spoon and fork on the side of your plate and talk. "Oh, that... uhm, it used to be our endearment... my ex."

"I see..." My face, neutral.

You give me a curious gaze. "Wait... is this what I think it is?" You inquire.

"Think what?"

You take a moment before responding, like you want to be really careful. "Are you jealous?"

I want to be defensive but I'm not that kind. "Yes." I admit, teary-eyed. "I'm sorry."

You let out a sigh, reaching for my hand across the table. "You don't have to be." You reassure me.

I take a deep breath, clearing the liquid forming in my eyes. "Harv, I'm really sorry, but you know I love you."

Your eyes widened, withdrawing your hand from mine. "You see... I know that. And... and I enjoy your company, really." You take a pause and continue. "Just that, let's not rush this, okay?"

As if demented, my face fell. "So you don't love me yet?"

You shake your head, standing up from the table. "I think I should go."

"No, okay, I'm sorry." I say, trying to pacify you, rising up from the dinner table. "You can stay."

"BUT WE'RE ALREADY FIGHTING!!!"

I was taken aback. It's the first time I see you wear an angry tone. I don't know what to say.

"I'm going." As you declare, you march towards the room, pick your things up and wear your shoes. Once done, you go straight to the door without looking back.

My heart sinks. I stay motionless, almost catatonic.

What have I done?