Three Desires

Chapter 17

The Sultano mansion was enveloped in lengthy twilight shadows while the smells of sizzling pork and delectable shrimp paste filled the air. Aylin bustled around the kitchen finishing touches to her signature dish, pig kare-kare, her smile as warm as the pot bubbling on the fire. For Aylin and her husband, Winstonjun, this was more than just any dish—it was a priceless heirloom, a gourmet love letter handed down through the ages. Tonight their family table would be graced with the deep, nutty scent of kare-kare, a symphony of veggies and succulent pig belly and hind legs.

With his phone clenched in his fingers, Winstonjun—a man whose laugh was as loud as his passion for basketball—sat downstairs to watch the most recent NBA highlights on YouTube. The faint murmur of chatter above was softly accompanied by the game's steady pounding.

Three people were arranged in a tableau in the living room. Sitting in the discussion were Pacaldo, with his kind eyes and gentle demeanor; Krishna, with his look unreadable; and Patricio, with his anxious energy sparking beneath his normal charm.

With intermittent outbursts of laughter, their voices were a low whisper as they shared updates about their work. But a deeper river moved beneath the surface. With years of marriage cementing their bond, Krishna and Pacaldo chatted with such intimacy that it made Patricio feel envious. Their innocuous gestures—a handshake, a prolonged look—were a sharp reminder of the life Krishna and his brother led, a life Patricio yearned for dearly. Ever restrained, Patricio stayed impassive, his fake smile concealing the pain inside. He couldn't resist stealing quick looks at Krishna, a possessive love squeezing in his chest that felt like it might devour him.

Abruptly, Aylin's voice pierced the atmosphere with a sweet invitation to supper. Patricio felt a wave of relief that briefly diverted his attention from the conflicting feelings he was experiencing. He was aware that the communal dinner, a custom as consoling as his mother's kare-kare, would resemble a tightrope walk.

A calmness descended onto the room as everyone gathered around the table. A silence fell before everyone grabbed for their spoons and forks. With his phone silenced, Winstonjun bent his head, then Aylin, then Pacaldo, then Krishna, and lastly Patricio. Their common trust in Theravada Buddhism was evidenced by the murmur of a Pali Buddhist prayer filling the room. The tempest building beneath the surface was momentarily calmed by the familiar comfort of the rhythmic chanting that had connected them for years.

Once the prayer was finished, Aylin served everyone steaming bowls of aromatic garlic rice, known as kare-kare, heaped next to them. On the table, a pitcher of sweating iced tea offered a promise of relief from the heat on this muggy evening. The sound of spoons clinking and satisfied sighs as they started eating created a semblance of temporary normalcy. Beneath the surface, however, there was a web of secrets and forbidden passions that could come crashing down at any time. A place of tradition and affection, the Sultano family supper was about to turn into a battlefield where a war of silence would be waged with covert looks, hushed discussions, and the weight of a secret that would destroy their already precarious world.

With a loving smile on his lips, Krishna raised his glass of drink. "Happy Crystal Anniversary to both of you, Uncle Winstonjun and Auntie Aylin!"

With a smile, Aylin's eyelids wrinkled at the corners. "Thank you, Krishna. It means a lot coming from you."

With a sound as familiar as cutlery clinking across China, Winstonjun burst out laughing. "Thank you, my Krishna! You're the only one who remembered this year. I swear, these younger generations have no memory!"

Krishna laughed, a little shiver running through his voice. "I wouldn't forget," he remarked, looking from Aylin to Winstonjun. "It's truly inspiring to see a love that's lasted so long."