"Pretty Little Promise's"

Chapter 57 Small Things

Risa's POV:

The silence in the car was thick enough to choke on. diko nga alam kung ano na naman ginawa ko - but Alice was treating it like a betrayal of the highest order. The usual playful banter that filled our drives was absent, replaced by the rhythmic thump of the tires on the asphalt and the quiet hum of the engine. When we pulled into the driveway, she didn't even glance at me before storming out of the car and into the house.

I knew what was coming. ; it was the "Alice" incident. Earlier that day, in a moment of absentmindedness, I'd called her by her given name. A cardinal sin in our relationship. Her preferred terms of endearment - hon, baby, mahal - were sacred. They were the tiny, whispered rituals that bound us together, and I'd broken the spell.

ayaw na ayaw niya kase sa pangalan niya ko siya tinatawag

I found her on the balcony, a silhouette against the darkening sky. The city lights twinkled below, a million tiny points of glittering indifference to our little drama.

"May problema ba, ?" I asked softly, using her favorite term, hoping to break through the wall she'd erected.

She didn't answer, her shoulders rigid, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. I sat beside her, the cool night air chilling my skin.

"Tatampo ka na naman?" I tried again, this time with a teasing lilt in my voice. It felt wrong, inappropriate for the gravity of the situation, but I was desperate to bridge the gap.

A single word, barely a breath: "No...."

"Hmmm, I know you, You're hiding something," I said, my voice low, intimate. I reached for her hand, but she flinched away.

A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. "Tsk," she muttered, the sound sharp and brittle.

She stood abruptly, leaving me alone with the city lights and the weight of her silence. I followed her inside, finding her already in our bedroom, stripped down to her pajamas, the shower still steaming in the bathroom. It was 10 PM, and she hadn't even eaten. A wave of guilt washed over me. This wasn't just about a name; it was about feeling unseen, unheard.

I approached the bed cautiously, gently touching her arm. She didn't react.

"Hon, hindi ka pa nag-dinner," I whispered, my voice laced with concern.

"Baby, tara sa baba. Manang's food is ready," I continued, trying a different tactic.

Silence. Then, a muffled sob.

"Mahal naman... I know you're still mad at me," I persisted, my voice soft but firm. I knew my attempts at lightheartedness were falling flat.

"Alam ko gising ka pa," I said, trying a different approach. I saw her frown slightly under the covers.

The silence stretched, taut and unbearable. Then, a desperate, almost reckless idea formed in my mind. An idea born of frustration and a desperate need to break through her wall.

"Okay, fine," I said, my voice tight with a barely controlled anger. "Pupunta ako sa bar. Yayain ko si Grace. Magse-sex kami sa VIP room."

The words hung in the air, sharp and cruel, even to my own ears. I watched, my heart pounding, as she sat up, her eyes wide, filled with a mixture of hurt and disbelief.

She moved with surprising speed, blocking my path to the door. "Pupunta ka ba talaga?" she choked out, her voice thick with tears. "Iiwan mo 'ko dito? Di mo na 'ko mahal?"

I stared at her, the anger draining away, replaced by a crushing wave of remorse. I removed her hands from my chest. "Tumabi ka. Aalis ako," I said, my voice devoid of any warmth.