Lost in May, Chasing a Forbidden

Chapter one | milk

My sweet, lovely dream was shattered by a loud knock on my door. What’s going on? Are they serious?

I grabbed my phone to check the time—5 AM. Seriously? Are they dragging me out for a jog at this ungodly hour? I’m still half asleep!

The knock came again, louder this time, demanding my surrender. With a sigh of defeat, I trudged toward the door, already expecting the scene that awaited me. And there he was, my father, standing tall with an intensity in his gaze that could cut through steel.

"What?" I raised an eyebrow, barely concealing my irritation.

"What, what?"

"Watawat," I muttered under my breath, loud enough for only me to hear.

"Are you really testing my patience, Olivia? It’s 5 in the morning, and it’s the first day of classes. Don’t tell me you’re planning to be late again, strutting in like some main character in a movie. You’re a fourth-year student now, Olivia. Grow up!" He hissed, his tone sharp.

"So what?" I shot back, my voice laced with defiance.

"Don’t make me repeat myself, young lady! I’m still your father, and you’d better start respecting my wife—she’s your mother now. Try acting like a daughter for once, okay?" He tapped my shoulder, as if trying to drive his point home.

I rolled my eyes, the frustration boiling over. "It’s too early for your lectures, Father. Fine, I’ll go eat, but only because you’re my father, and I’m your daughter. So, maybe you should try acting like a father too, not just when it suits you." My words dripped with sarcasm as I slammed the door in his face, leaving him standing there, probably fuming.

I can't believe he woke me up at 5 AM just to lecture me. Like, who does that?
And don’t even get me started on that ‘respect my wife’ nonsense. As if I’d call her ‘Mom’ Who cares about him and his wife, anyway?

I slipped on my Hello Kitty slippers, a childish comfort that brought a small smile to my face. Who cares if they made me look like a kid? Certainly not me.

I opened my door and made my way to the dining area, only to be stopped in my tracks by the sight of a stunningly beautiful woman sitting next to my usual chair. Could this really be my father’s wife?

"Good morning, Olivia. Sit next to your mom," my father urged, his voice unnaturally cheerful.

"Mom?" I chuckled, the word sounding foreign in my mouth. "As if I’d call her that."

Isn’t she too young to be my father’s wife? She looks like she’s in her mid-20s, maybe just two years older than me. What kind of witchcraft is this? Ako nalang sana.

Reluctantly, I sat next to this striking woman, who looked at me with those piercing blue eyes and a face untouched by makeup.

"Good morning po," I whispered, more out of politeness than anything else.

"What? Ano ba ’yan, Olivia! You greet her but didn’t even laid eyes on me?" My father’s voice was theatrical, as if he were playing a part in some tragic comedy.

"For God’s sake, Dad, stop it. You look ridiculous," I snapped. "As if you actually care."

"Watch your mouth, Olivia! We’re at the dining table, and your mother can hear you!" He yelled, his patience clearly wearing thin.

I was about to fire back when I felt a cool hand intertwine with mine. I looked over to see the woman beside me, her expression calm, silently telling me to let it go. She gently caressed my hand, a silent plea for peace.