When Love Break Ties

Chapter 26: A Fight with Abby

Nathan sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at his phone. Another message from his mother had come in, and he felt the familiar pang of guilt as he read the words: "Anak, we miss you. When can we talk?" The message was short, but it carried the weight of everything he had been avoiding. He tossed the phone aside, running his hand through his hair in frustration. It wasn't that he didn't love his family—he did—but things were different now. Since meeting Abby, his once-clear loyalty to his family had become complicated.

Abby, seated across from him at the small dining table, sensed his unease. She had been scrolling through her phone but set it down when she saw his troubled expression. "What's wrong?" she asked, her tone edged with suspicion.

Nathan hesitated. He knew this conversation was bound to happen, but he had been postponing it for as long as he could. "It's my family," he finally admitted, leaning back against the headboard. "They keep reaching out, and I haven't responded. I don't know what to say."

Abby's face tightened. "What is there to say? You've already explained to them that you're busy with the workshop. They need to respect that."

"It's not that simple, Abby," Nathan replied, his voice softer than usual. He stood up, feeling restless. "They don't understand why I've been distant. And honestly, I don't know how to explain it to them without making it sound like I'm blaming you."

Abby frowned, leaning forward. "Blaming me? How am I involved in your issues with your family? I've only encouraged you to stand up for yourself and set boundaries. You've been letting them control your life for years."

Nathan sighed, knowing this was a conversation they'd had before but sensing the tension building in the air. "It's just... they're my family. I can't cut them off like you did with yours."

At that, Abby's expression darkened. "Is that what you think I did? Cut them off for no reason?"

The sharpness in her voice made Nathan wince, but he pressed on. "I know your situation with your family is different, but I've started questioning if I'm doing the right thing. I haven't talked to them in weeks, and I feel like I'm turning into someone I'm not."

Abby stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "So now I'm turning you into someone you're not? That's what this is about?" Her voice rose with every word, filling the small apartment with tension.

Nathan tried to calm the storm before it got worse. "That's not what I'm saying. I just... I've changed a lot since we've been together, and I'm starting to wonder if I'm losing parts of myself that I shouldn't."

Abby folded her arms across her chest, her eyes narrowing. "Oh, so you want to go back to being the mama's boy who lets his family dictate every decision in his life? Is that what you miss?"

Her words hit Nathan like a punch to the gut. "That's not fair," he said, his voice trembling with frustration. "I'm just trying to figure things out. It's not about choosing between you and them."

"But that's exactly what it feels like!" Abby shot back, her hands gesturing wildly. "Every time we talk about your family, it's like I'm the villain. Like I'm the one who's making you feel guilty for wanting to be your own person."

Nathan's heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of anger and sadness bubbling up inside him. He loved Abby, but every time they fought about his family, he felt like he was being torn in two. "I don't know how to balance it anymore," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I love you, but I also love them. And it feels like I'm being forced to choose."

Abby shook her head, her expression a mix of disbelief and hurt. "Maybe that's because you've been conditioned to think that way. Filipino families... they act like you owe them everything, and it's suffocating. You're an adult, Nathan. You shouldn't have to feel guilty for wanting to live your life."

Nathan ran a hand over his face, feeling exhausted. "I get that. But they're still my family, Abby. It's not something I can just shut off."

"And I'm your partner," Abby replied, her voice trembling now. "But it feels like I'll always come second to them."

The words hung in the air, heavy and painful. Nathan felt his throat tighten as he realized the truth in what she said. He hadn't been able to fully commit to their relationship without feeling the pull of his family's expectations, but at the same time, he couldn't let go of the guilt he felt for distancing himself from them.

"I don't want you to feel like that," Nathan said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I don't know how to fix this."

Abby softened slightly, but the hurt in her eyes remained. "I just want you to stand up for us. To stop letting them control your life, even from a distance."

Nathan nodded, though he wasn't sure what the solution was. He sat back down on the bed, the weight of the conversation settling on his shoulders. "I'll try," he promised, though the words felt empty even as he said them.

For a moment, the room was silent. Abby sat back down as well, but the distance between them felt greater than ever. Nathan stared at his hands, wondering how things had gotten to this point. How had he allowed the two most important parts of his life—his family and his relationship with Abby—to become so entangled in conflict?

"I need to figure this out," he murmured, more to himself than to Abby.

Abby glanced at him, her expression softening slightly. "I don't want to fight with you, Nathan. I just want us to be happy."

"I know," he replied, looking up at her. "I want that too."

But even as he said it, the nagging feeling of guilt remained. He knew that no matter what, there would be more conversations like this, more fights about his family, more difficult choices to make. And deep down, he wasn't sure if he could ever truly find a way to balance the love he had for Abby and the loyalty he felt toward his family.

As the night grew darker and the city outside their window buzzed with life, Nathan felt a strange sense of emptiness settle inside him. He loved Abby, but the cost of that love was becoming harder to bear.