Would You Mind? ✓

WYM? 32

EPILOGUE PART TWO

Magnus Nikolai Iglesias

"Te puedes ir. Te llamaré cuando necesitemos algo," Tito Sebastian told his assistant after having us served with brewed coffee.

His assistant exited the office without mouthing a word. Whereas, I stupidly gazed at your father, for I couldn't understand what he just said.

He chuckled. "I told him he could leave, and I'd just call him if we needed anything."

I shyly smiled. "Sorry, Tito. My Spanish had gone immensely rusty." I used to have Spanish classes way back in college, pero ni basics nito hindi ko na matandaan.

"No worries." He motioned a dismissive gesture along with a knowing smile on his lips. "I've heard from your father that you came from the Philippines to here. Why is that, if I may ask, young man?"

The cold weather of Spain suddenly shot up in complete breeze when he eyed me, warranting for a coherent response that I took my overcoat from my armrest and shimmied into it while trying to refuse his gazes. When he continued staring at me, the warmth my overcoat gave seemed inadequate that I had to fumble for my winter gloves as well.

What the fuck, Uno. Don't make him wait for your words. You orally practiced this for a couple of yesterdays, didn't you? I distastefully rebuked myself.

"I...I..." My ghad. "I-I want...I want...t-to...Will you please give me a full minute, Tito? I just need some fresh air," I half-wittedly told him, unable to say what I meant to. I wanted to chastise myself for it.

For a while, he managed to keep a straight face before he let loose with a burst of joyous laughter, which reflected on the amply perceptible joy in his eyes. "Maybe I looked exactly just like you when I once asked Dos' grandparents for the hand of my ex-wife," he said, brushing me up with another swoosh of breeze. "Anyway, you were saying what?" He grinned.

I goggled on him in open-mouthed surprise like he used a rare language spoken only by a minority when he only outed out my propose.

Alam mo naman na pala yata, eh.....I wanted to tell your father, yet I held my tongue, for I might not have him on the same side if I'd do so. I probably had consumed a full-blown minute before I retracted my composure and had gulped greedily and nervously before beginning my speech.

However, he cut me off, saying, "For how long could you stand keeping my daughter?"

My brows met. "Pardon, Sir?"

"You see, Uno, today's generation consists of youths like you who starve for love. Once you had your fill, how sure are you that you wouldn't leave my little girl? We both know how difficult she is to handle. Ergo she frequents in going out of hand."

"I went past the age of playing in the field, Tito, and I ain't taking another ride. If it scares you that much that I might hurt your daughter, then believe me when I tell you I'm as scared as you are."

"You can never equate my emotions to yours. Mine is utterly different. My love for Samara is not something you could just shove off with what you can offer."

"I'm not trying to debase your love for her, Tito, nor am I trying to bracket my priming love to the imperishability of your own. All I'm wanting is-"