Maven and Adrianna were like the sun and the moon. Their paths were meant to cross but not to sync eternally.
Both from prominent wealthy families separated by hatred and vendetta, they should've left it at that. But fate has a funny way to let them...
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Crash!
I was startled awake by the sound of a vase crashing followed by another strange rattling sound below. The glare of the lamp shade made me blink and I glanced at the clock. It was 2:17 but I laid quietly as I tried to put a name on what had awakened me at this hour. Disoriented by the noise, I sat up and threw back the covers and padded barefoot to the hallway.
They said, childhood can form us as an adult and that the first few early moments can influence our very being down to our soul. I did not know that, perhaps if I did, I could've pretend I did not hear a thing.
I vividly remember what happened that night. Looking around, I caught a shadow of my brother peering down from the stairwell. His face being illuminated by the lights coming from the sala
"Shhh!!" He hissed. Kuya Elliot was still in his pajama, just like I was. His hair was a mess which said a lot that I was not the only one disturbed from her sleep. He tucked me underneath his arms as we both sat by the stairwell, hiding to who knows what.
"Que se joda!" My mother's loud screeching voice echoed down below our living room. Screw it, she said. It was rare for me to hear her say that. She always told me cursing was bad.
"Saan mo nilagay ang kokote mo, Armand?"
My father sighed and rubbed his hand on his face, almost appearing exhausted by the mere conversation they were having at that time. I have never seen my father lose his patience this way; for me, he was always attentive and dear. And seeing him this way, I knew something was off.
"I'm tired Stella and it's past your kids' bedtime. Hinaan mo naman, they might hear you--"
"Ah!" I watched how my mother threw her hands in exasperation. "So now you're embarrassed about it? Having a mistress is one thing Armand but knocking her up is drilling a permanent hole to it"
They're at it again. It wasn't the first time that I've seen them arguing but this time, it looks like it's one for the record; it was more intense and heavier. They were screaming in each other's face, both of them drowning at each other's words. Always trying to make a point but never really hearing each other. Always arguing. Always at the end of the spectrum. Always at each other's wit. Always--
"It just happened okay? I slipped up—"
"YOU slipped up? Wow, this is rich! You did not slip up, Armand you f*cked it up this time"
"How insipid do you think I am, Stella?"
"Haven't you thought about how this scandal will blow to your kids?" My mother began but then stopped. "Especially Adrianna—God, Adrianna, Armand! she's just 12. 12 years old Armand!"
"No, Stella, that's not —" My father said, his words were cut short by the sight of me rushing down the stairs.
I had enough of it so I thought of escaping my brother's grasp and came down rushing from the stairwell, only to come in between the two adults in the room
