Three Desires

Chapter 15

Krishna gave a strained smile, the warmth barely reaching his eyes. "Good evening, Patricio," he said, his voice straining.

Patricio, oblivious to the strain, beamed. "Good evening, Krish," he said, sheepishly touching the back of his neck. "It's been a while since I've been here. Last time, I think Mom and Dad dragged me along, right?" He grinned, his gaze wandering between Krishna and Pacaldo.

Pacaldo, his normally easy smile strained, forced a laugh. "Mm, yeah," he said, his voice lacking passion. "He does remember."

A heavy quiet fell over the three men, broken only by the slow tick of the grandfather clock in the corner. The air buzzed with unsaid tension, starkly contrasting the pleasant, welcoming attitude Krishna had painstakingly built just minutes before.

Pacaldo, desperate to break the ice, pointed to the kitchen. "Why don't we start digging into those chocolate bakpia pieces? They're fresh out of the oven."

Patricio's eyes brightened up. "Sure, why not?" he said, his raucous energy returning. "Let's go!"

Krishna observed them with an uneasy smile on his face that threatened to shatter. "Sure," he muttered, his heart heavy with a weight far greater than the lovely pastries cooling on the table.

In the flickering lamplight, Krishna sat stiffly next to Pacaldo, the air thick with tension as heavy as the serving of chocolate bakpia in front of them. Pacaldo's twin brother, Patricio, took the seat across from them, his boisterous enthusiasm dampened by the discomfort of the scenario.

Krishna had precisely arranged the pastries, each one a monument to his culinary prowess and a desperate attempt to restore some semblance of normalcy. But the smells of baking couldn't hide the simmering animosity between the three men.

Pacaldo, ever the diplomat, tried to bridge the breach. "How was your day in the hospital, Patricio?" he asked, his voice straining.

Krishna perked up at the inquiry, thankful for the distraction. He took a glimpse at Patricio, his gaze fixed on the familiar features that matched Pacaldo's.

Patricio sighed, the tiredness on his face contrasting sharply with his normally limitless vigor. "Drained," he conceded, wiping a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. "I've been working on a medical case report all day. Remember Ernesto Herbosa, the board member from Taytay? He had a Lisinopril overdose and was discharged after a successful operation, but the paperwork..." He trailed off, shaking his head with a weary smile.

Pacaldo nodded sympathetically and reached for a piece of bakpia. He popped it into his lips, and the sweet filling temporarily relieved the stress. He then leaned across the table and offered Krishna another slice.

Krishna accepted it mechanically, the pastry's familiar warmth doing little to calm his inner turmoil. He took a tentative mouthful, his gaze fixed on Patricio across the table.

Patricio, secluded in his world, appeared unaware of the unsaid tension. He concentrated on his bakpia, each bites a solo act in the tense environment. However, a glint of defiance appeared in his eyes as he reached across the table, duplicating Pacaldo's motion. He offered Krishna another slice of pastry, his gaze fixed on Krishna's.

Krishna found himself impossible to resist. He took the bakpia, the touch of Patricio's fingertips sending a shock through him. A silent discourse unfolded before their eyes, in a language only they knew.

Pacaldo was attentive but he observed the conversation between his brother and his husband. A wide range of emotions flickered across his face, including jealousy, despair, and a deep-seated love that transcended society's rules.