Knowing What Love Is (COMPLETED ENGLISH VERSION) #RymSeries

Storm 7

Empire Village's Soccer Field

I was in the midst of jogging around the oval, engrossed in one of my favourite songs, "The Man Who Can't Be Moved" by The Script. I was just about to reach the chorus when someone abruptly called me, causing the song to come to a halt.

What does Papa want now?

"What?" I inquired.

Papa's message was concise: "We have a visitor. Make sure you're here exactly at 8:00 AM."

A visitor? This early in the morning?

Well, whatever. I'll visit the Cemetery before heading home.

Empire Village Cemetery

"Hello, Father" 

Taking a seat on the grass-covered ground, I cleared the scattered dirt from his gravestone.

"I miss you," I confided, preparing to speak more, when suddenly his voice resonated in my mind.

"Ayaw kong kinakausap mo ako sa Ingles." (I don't like it when you speak with me in English)

"Why do you dislike it when I speak in English, Father?"

"Silly, because we are in the Philippines."

"But you're speaking English now."

"I know, but Princess, I want you to start speaking in Filipino."

"Opo." (Okay/ Yes)

"Good girl."

"Papa, why do you want me to speak in Filipino?"

"Because, when you speak in Filipino, it brings me joy."

"And why is that?"

"Because, you see, I find it endearing. It's like a melody to my ears. That's why I want you to speak in Filipino."

"You're teasing me!"

"No, I'm not. Say Mahal kita"

"Mal kita!"

"Mahal din kita." (I love you too)

"Mahal kita," I smiled, though a hint of embarrassment washed over me. I looked to my right and bit my lower lip. "I love you but—"

"Father, I can't speak in Filipino."

"You're the only one who enjoys hearing me speak nonsensically, and I—"

"I can't because you're no longer here."

"And I'm worried they might laugh at me," I chuckled.

"But hey, I'm trying."

"Anyway, I have a story to tell."

"Tyler Sczack broke my heart. The end."

"I'm heartbroken."

"And I'm hesitant to say that I don't want to love anymore"

"From the beginning, I knew Tyler would leave me and find someone deserving of his love and attention. The mere thought of him replacing me while we were still in love hurt."

"When it happened, the pain intensified. It became unbearable."

"It's been almost—I've lost count. Yet, I can't move on. He shattered my heart on my twenty-fourth birthday" I smiled.

"This realization dawns on me as I approach twenty-five." I chuckled

"I'm exhausted, you know?"

"But I also know it's my fault; I didn't let him explain."

"I love you, and I want to be with you. Will you allow that?"

"Life is a gift, miss, and you must treasure it," a voice interrupted, its tone annoyed and irritated. It drew my attention, making me look at the source.

At this moment, all I could see was his retreating back. He was walking away.

Away from me.

What's this about?

I'm weary of this drama.

Perhaps Denver and Prim are right. Or, should I say, they were right. They were right all along: I'm a fragile being.

"I'm going home," I resolved silently, standing up, my chest burdened by emotion.

Curse this feeling.

Block 20, Empire Village, Rym City

Upon entering the house, I headed straight to my room and took a quick shower. I donned a white bodycon dress and proceeded downstairs.

While walking, I stole a quick glance at my phone for the time: 8:04 AM.

They're probably in the dining room by now.

Dining Room

"Good morning, darling. Please have a seat, and let's eat," Papa greeted me with a warm smile.

Taking the seat beside my sister, I noticed our chef placing a plate of Creole Beef Casserole in front of me. My attention shifted to the plate, not paying much mind to the chocolate-covered cake. However, my focus shifted once again, this time to the man seated across from me.

"By the way, darling, this is Luke Reign, our visitor."

Just him? I can't believe it.

I turned my gaze towards the man and kept it there.

He's imposing, and something about his presence exudes power and wealth. It's hard to put into words.

He wore a white polo that clung to his body, with the top three buttons undone. A silver Piaget watch adorned his wrist. I imagined he gets his suits custom-tailored; he looked tidy and well-mannered.

"He's a businessman, darling," Papa informed me, likely sensing my scrutiny.

"How old are you?" I inquired suddenly, driven by curiosity. My sister shot me a look as if I'd committed a grievous error.

"30," he replied.

After posing a seemingly senseless question, I decided to help myself to some Chicken Soubise, as though nothing had occurred—or, to put it another way, as if I hadn't just asked a foolish question.

"What?" I asked my sister, as she continued to stare at me.

"You're something else," she mouthed.