Crumbled

Eleven.

Almost five years ago..

Driving on a fairly good speed, Richard was on his way home from fetching packages downtown when he heard his phone notification indicating that he got new messages.

It was from Maine.

Hi, Love. Just got off the airport. Sorry, hindi na ako nakatawag para makapagpasundo. Not feeling very well kasi. But no worries, magtaxi na lang ako. Be home soon!

And another one..

By the way, I have great news see you! I love you!

She's on her way home.

But she's not feeling well.

But there's great news.

Richard felt both worried and excited at the same time, it's driving him crazy.

Aside from constant exchange of calls, texts and facetiming, he hasn't seen her for a week.

She has been staying in Manila for the last five days to take care of some important papers her father from London asked her to look into.

She left after receiving the call two weeks ago. He didn't ask further what it was for, although he was extremely curious because she was strangely a bit off the day after that.

But he trust her and he's pretty sure she knows what she's doing.

After he dropped off the packages at Rosario's, RJ thought he could cook dinner for her so he decided to go straight at the Mendoza's.

He's been more than welcome at the Mendoza's that Tita Helen even allowed him to use her precious little kitchen.

Maine said she already got off the airport so she should be home in no time.

It was around 6 o'clock when he finished cooking and it was already 7:00 but Maine is still not home yet.

No calls.

No texts.

And when he tried to call her, no one was answering.

"RJ, okay ka lang?"

"Tita, ang tagal niya."

"Tinawagan mo na ba si Menggay?"

"Yes, Tita. Pero hindi po sya sumasagot eh. Wala rin naman syang texts. Sa inyo po ba meron?"

"Wala rin, hijo. Nako, nasaan na kaya yun? Bakit ang tagal naman."

He spent the next thirty minutes pacing back and forth right outside the front door, alternately checking his phone and the road from time to time. He checks and wait for any passing vehicle that Maine possibly rode into - may it be a taxi or a tricycle.

Anything, as long as it is her.

But there's nothing.

There's no one.

The authorities might laugh at it and consider it as an exaggeration but he was ready to call them in for help. He doesn't feel really good about it anymore.

He was about to call the police when his phone rang.

Someone was calling.

Unknown number.

He immediately answered it anyway.

"Hello? Maine?"

"Good evening, may I speak with Mr. Faulkerson?"