Broken Strings (18+)

07

The morning after turned out to be… well, not exactly how I expected it to be. I was surprised when Sebastian acted like it never happened. At first, I thought that he was just trying to act normal, so it wouldn’t be awkward for the two of us. But then the day went on, and he was actually, perfectly normal. It was only then that it dawned on me. He was too drunk yesterday to remember anything. Yes, I was relieved, but at the same time, I… I don’t know.

What was my expectation, anyway? For starters, Sebastian and I wouldn’t be able to look at each other in the eye. We wouldn’t be able to talk to each other and work together. I would have to quit my job. I would have to banish myself and never see him again.

Exaggerated? Blame my innate overthinking tendencies for that.

Weekend came, and Storm picked me up. We had agreed to go malling today. It’s been a while since he had this much free time. I was thrilled that he’d be spending it with me. I guess I shouldn’t doubt my boyfriend, after all.

We strolled around the mall, entering a boutique every now and then. But what we did was more like window-shopping. I just didn’t feel like splurging today. I myself was surprised that I didn’t find the trendy items appealing. Nothing seemed worthy of being added to Mischa Brillantes’ wardrobe, except for one particular pair of red pumps embellished with swarovski crystals.

I spent a couple of minutes examining those shoes, but Storm didn’t seem to mind. He was really patient with me and my whims. He was just sitting on one of the ottomans – his full attention fixed on his phone. My brow automatically raised. It was our Saturday, yet he was preoccupied with his phone, not me—his girlfriend. I mentally scolded myself when I realized what I was doing. I was being distrustful again.

I turned to the pair of red pumps again. I actually didn’t have any use for them at the moment. I just returned the shoes on the display rack, then went back to my boyfriend. I grabbed on his arm and gave it a light tug. “Let’s go, honey.”

He looked up at me. “Did you buy anything?”

I pouted my lips and shook my head.

He just chuckled, then he stood up, draping an arm on my shoulder. We started walking out of the shop. “Where to?”

My arm snaked around his waist. “Fifth floor. There’s this art gallery,” I started explaining as we rode the escalator.

“Since when did you like those stuff, honey?” he teased. Storm knew me too well. He knew that I was never a fan of those artsy stuff. Of course, he would be surprised that I was bringing him to an art gallery.

“Since Dr. Sevilla, the institute director, happened to be an art enthusiast, and I need to buy him a gift for his birthday,” I replied, mimicking his tone.

“Him? Tell me, honey. How old is this Dr. Sevilla again? Don’t you think an art piece would be too much for a birthday gift to some colleague?” He sounded like a jealous boyfriend. Oh wait, he is my boyfriend. Is he jealous?

I decided to play along. “He’s not just some colleague, honey.”

His mouth formed an O. When he recovered, his voice was stern. “What exactly do you mean by that, Mischa?” Uh-oh. He called me by my first name again.

“Dr. Sevilla is a married man with three kids, and he’s turning 50 next week,” I explained, grinning. “He’s not just some colleague, honey, because he was one of my mentors when I was working on my thesis.” He was speechless. “I like it when you’re jealous.” I gave him a quick peck on his lips.