Tasha's POV
I woke up to the enticing aroma of ham and eggs being cooked. Wait! When did Manang return? Why didn't she message me? Sitting up, I reached for my phone on the bedside table, curious if there were any messages from Manang, but there were none.
Manang Henya has been with me for five years now. And it's been five years since Mom passed away, and Manang has been taking care of me since then. She goes back to her family in the province every last Sunday of the month, and I always allow her because I understand the importance of being with loved ones. So, I never want Manang Henya to feel the loneliness of being far from home.
Getting up, I prepared myself for the day ahead before making my way downstairs. Perhaps Manang was already downstairs and simply forgot to let me know she's back. I hoped so.
Entering the kitchen, the tantalizing smell of ham and eggs greeted me. It's my favorite breakfast in the morning. I stretched my body, fully relishing the moment, until my eyes fell upon a sight that took me by surprise—a man standing by the stove wearing nothing but an apron, shirtless?
Holysht! Who's that fvckin' guy? How did he manage to get inside my house?
I noticed a glimpse of tattoos on his back.
Feeling a twinge of nervousness, I instinctively reached for the two eggs on the table. Startled by his sudden movement, I impulsively threw the eggs at him. I shut my eyes for a brief moment.
"Oh, sht!! My eyes!!" He exclaimed loudly. Opening my eyes, I gazed at him directly, and as his face came into focus, my eyes widened in shock.
No way! He was the guy from last night. Sht! I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me for my impulsive actions. Quickly grabbing some tissue, I rushed to wipe the egg yolk from his face.
"I'm so sorry. I thought you were—sht! I think we need to wash it off with water," I said, pulling him towards the bathroom. It was clear that we needed to clean both eyes to remove the egg yolk.
Taking some soap, I applied it to his face after he rinsed it with water.
We stood there, him cleaning his face, and I couldn't help but notice the closeness between us. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and despite him not wearing a shirt, I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. I also felt his hand on my waist.
"Uhm," he uttered, still holding my hand against his cheek.
"I'm sorry," I murmured, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks. Before I could break away from the intimate moment, I glanced at the small tattoo on his chest—a delicate image of a woman's face. Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind. Catching his gaze lingering on me, I quickly averted my eyes and turned away, feeling overwhelmed by the situation. Sht! I couldn't handle this anymore. Silently, I left the bathroom, leaving him inside.
(FLASHBACK)
"I need to go," I heard him say as he draped a blanket over my shoulders.
"No, just stay here!" I protested, unable to muster the strength to open my eyes fully.
"Look, you're drunk. You need to rest and sleep." He replied, his voice calm and reassuring.
"But you'll leave me too, just like everyone else did? (Laugh) Well, what did I expect? No one wants to stick around in my life. They all want to leave, everyone wants to abandon me. Y-yeah I know you'll leave too, and that's okay. I've been alone for years so I don't need you. Go ahead! Leave! And don't come back. Just go!" I poured out my heart, my voice heavy with emotion.
Pushing him away with both hands as he tried to comfort me, I felt his grip on mine, gently guiding them down. He sat me down, his touch tender as he brushed the hair away from my face.
"You better sleep, now."
"No, yo-you better leave."
I continued to push him away, but he kept holding me back.
"I will stay." He asserted firmly.
Did I hear that right? No, he doesn't need to stay. I was about to speak up when I felt something unpleasant in my stomach until...
"Uhhwahhhhhhhh"
**(END OF FLASHBACK)**
"Sht! No way." No wonder he’s not wearing a shirt now.
"Don't worry, I slept on the sofa and there's nothing happened to us last night. I'm sorry." He explained from behind me, causing me to stop.
"It's my fault. So stop saying sorry." It's true. There’s no one else to blame but me. I insisted he to stay even though he wanted to leave.
"No. You weren't in the right condition because you—"
"I know what I am doing!" I interrupted firmly.
"Really? So is it true that they all left you?" He asked as he stepped out of the bathroom.
I sighed deeply and closed my eyes. "Just forget about last night." I said and walked away, leaving him standing there. Whatever I said last night was just because I was drunk.
I headed straight to the dining area and sat down with the ham and eggs he cooked. I couldn't stop thinking about what happened last night. I shouldn't have said those things. I shouldn't stop people who want to leave.
It's so embarrassing!
I buried my face in my hands when he suddenly sat down in front of me.
"From now on, you won't be alone." He said, surprising me. Is he crazy?
"I didn't ask for that!"
"You asked for it last night."
"The hell! You believe what drunk people say?" I face him.
"When you're drunk, you reveal your true feelings. So whatever you said last night, I know it was true." He retorted.
"You don't know me. So you can't be sure I'm telling the truth." I snapped, irritated by his presumption that he knew me.
"One feeling is enough to understand what someone truly feels. Why can't you admit that?" He countered and faced me with his anger look. I didn't understand what he meant but I knew one thing. He had no right to dictate what I should do.
"I have nothing to admit. And you know what's true? I don't need you." He paused at my words. Yes, the truth hurts, and I don’t care about that. He believes too much in himself.
There was a long silence between us until the doorbell rang. We both looked towards the door, and I was surprised when he stood up.
"I’ll get it. Just eat your breakfast." He said before disappearing from my sight.
I wondered who was at the door. It couldn’t be Megan or Keyla—they never ring the doorbell when they come over. It also couldn’t be Manang Henya because she always messages me first to let me know she’s coming back. So if it wasn’t them, who could it be?
A heavy feeling settled in my chest. I didn’t want to believe what I was thinking, but I had a strong feeling it was true. I was startled when Tristan suddenly reappeared in front of me, handing me a letter and a gift. I stared at them for a few seconds before deciding not to accept them.
"Throw that away!" He looked shocked at my words and before he could say anything, I turned away from him. I didn’t care what he thought. I didn’t want to receive a gifts from someone I despised.
