A Twist Of Time

twenty nine

"That looks wonderful. Better choose that one," I said, pointing at a curtain that Jake was holding. Beside him was his and Jane's cousin, Bradley, who was reading Margaux's checklist. Margaux herself was beside Sergio, the both of them deciding on my wardrobe. I let them do it for me; I had no sense of style whatsoever. The only thing I knew how to match were skinny jeans, jackets, and grey t-shirts. And if I ever wore the outfit I had on when I arrived here ever again, I'd have people protesting to get me out of the palace. I'd rather wear a hot outfit in a tropical country than get the president impeached for wanting better clothing.

"Valerie, love, are you sure?" Sergio asked. I nodded.

"I'm sure."

"But it looks a little bland."

I raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"Nevermind," he answered. "As long as you like it."

And the days passed quickly. President Quezon's corpse was brought back to America, us having to comfort Quirino again. Sergio cried too, and Margaux did, and I somehow did too.

Nothing seemed interesting in the palace anymore. I travelled all of the halls, rooms, and places where I was allowed to go and talked to everyone who noticed me since Sergio was busy running the country. I was left rereading my library after all of that, nothing happening.

I missed home. I missed the iPhones, though I was annoyed at the 7-year-olds who already owned iPhone 6s. I missed my mother, my house—and lamenting on me magically transporting to another time and place seemed to be putting a huge damper on my performance as an unofficial First Lady. We weren't married, anyway.

I skipped the boring meetings. I skipped every little event where Sergio was going to be in the same room as I was. I was just so tired of everything. I couldn't even bring myself to laugh at the jokes Jane made when she and Margaux visited my room at night.

It was one of those nights, like the old Corregidor ones, where the three of us were drinking hot chocolate, when Sergio went inside my room and smiled at Margaux and Jane. His expression turned to something that was a mixture of worry and guilt when he saw me.

"You're not alright," was the only thing he said after observing what I looked like. Once again, I looked like a mess.

"I'm not," I replied nonchalantly.

"Valerie, I'm worried. Terribly." He took a seat beside me. "I'm going to have to take a week off from this heavy job just to take care of you. You shouldn't be like this."

"But this is what I am, aren't I? I can't do anything for this country unlike Aurora."

And that's when I realized I was starting to become insecure over many things. He sighed.

"You do things in your own way. You don't have to be Aurora to make a change. Simply getting up and combing your hair will be a huge help for the country. Because as we speak, my citizens are dying under the hands of the Japanese and they need their First Lady to guide their incompetent President.

"Valerie, I love you and I know this state of yours is partially my fault. I was too busy. But please, forgive me. I will try everything I can to help you."

It wasn't normal for me to cry. Especially for long messages directed to me. Only my mother and now, Sergio, could do that. Tears were already in my eyes, and they fell like they had to. Margaux turned around and her eyes widened.

"Val, what's wrong? You're—crying?" she asked, confused. "It's rare to see you crying. I've only seen you cry twice, I think."

"No, my eyes just hurt," I lied.

"I promise, Valerie. I will do my best to make you happy again. And I miss the way you boss me around. It's adorable," Sergio said.

"If I had the energy to make a comeback, I'd do exactly that. But I don't. And I forgive you. I'll get myself together."

I stood up and took the necklace Sergio gave me from its box, wrapped it around my hands, and prayed that I would get my shit together by tomorrow.

Margaux and Jane left with Sergio after they gave me some sort of "mini make-over" (I taught them what "make-over" meant and they kept repeating it) to lighten me up.

Sergio was a man of his words. The morning I woke up, there was a box at the bottom of my bed and breakfast by the table. I took the note and read it.

For your morning tantrums. I'm joking. Love you. -SSO

And he had to sign it with his initials. What a nerd.

I went downstairs after enjoying what meal was served at my bed and met with Margaux, who seemed very interested with what Bradley was saying when I approached her.

"I bake for a living. I'm an assistant in my father's bakery, where we sell bread," Bradley said proudly.

"That's amazing! You know what? I was an assistant once. I was the Presidential Adviser, but Quirino took my job. Now, I'm just Margaux." She turned to me. "Hello, Valerie! Meet Brad. Brad, meet Valerie. She's the First Lady. Respect her."

"I know," Brad replied. "Good morning, madame." He courtly bowed and smiled at me. He seemed fairly nice and attractive, with his curly hair and blue eyes. He probably had American blood.

"Good morning to you as well, Breadl-I mean, Bradley," I said, and Margaux and I laughed. Breadly just seemed lost.

"He's a nice person, isn't he? Masipag din," (He's also hardworking.) Margaux said. "Sergio's not anywhere here. He went to the camps, checking on the soldiers. We're left here to protect the palace.

"He didn't tell me," I replied.

"He didn't want you to follow him. He knew you would. He didn't want you to get harmed. But he promised to return by tomorrow, so don't worry."