What You Wanted

by Mina V. Esguerra

  “Maybe I should go to this team building thing,” I said suddenly. “You said I could, right? Just so Geraldine remembers that her charms aren't working.”

  I watched his face. Did that work? Was it what he wanted to hear?

  “But no making out in public,” Damon said.

  “Deal.”

  He exhaled, and relaxed a little. Maybe I passed the test. But it didn't matter, because I'd already decided that, like our weekend, these two weeks together would be perfect.

  I would give him everything he wanted.

  Before delivering him to his Ice Princess.

  I loved him that much now.

  ***

  Of course I would be asleep when the call came at two a.m. What made it complicated was that I was sleeping on Damon’s bed, beside him.

  I couldn’t take this call in his room, or anywhere in his apartment. Without the TV on or any other noise, he’d wake up and hear everything. So I quickly slipped on one of Damon’s button-down shirts over the white shirt I was wearing and took the phone out into the hallway.

  “I’ll call you in two minutes,” I said.

  Then I settled into the comfy couch at the Tower 1 lobby, the one that was next to the glass table shaped like a bean, and returned Thad’s call from there.

  “I need to talk,” he said.

  I sighed. “Of course you do.”

  He sounded troubled. And maybe a little intoxicated again. “I said the wrong thing today and she spent the night at a friend’s house.”

  Here we go. “Thad, come on, don’t do this. Not with me.”

  “Who else do I talk to, Andrea? There was only you, even before I messed it up. I only talked to you about relationship shit.”

  “Don’t you have a priest or pastor or somebody? Don’t put this on me, Thad.”

  “Not anyone I trust to keep this quiet. It just...we were together and it happened so quickly…”

  I sighed again.

  “Me and Naomi I mean. We didn’t know each other long. I knew that she was friends with her ex, but she insisted they were over.”

  “Do you think she’s cheating on you?”

  “She says she’s not, but she almost married that guy. He...he’s always around. I hate it.”

  Well this was a sticky situation. “I don’t need to know this.”

  “I think she’s regretting it.”

  Don’t go there.

  But Thad was already there. “I think she’s regretting that we got married. I think...I think if I gave her an out, she’d take it. God knows the bastard will be waiting.”

  Just like you think I am? “It’s late and you’re not thinking straight.”

  “Maybe I finally am. No one had the fucking sense to tell me that marrying someone I barely knew was a bad idea. No one. You would have told me that, but I ruined it with you.”

  And now we’re here.

  He thought I would have told him, if I wasn’t avoiding him at the time, that he shouldn’t be marrying someone else so soon after our weekend together. He thought I would have been the voice of reason, the only romance skeptic, and that would have saved him from his mess now.

  I didn’t do that though.

  I actually believed he was done with me.

  “You should talk about your regrets, both of you,” I said.

  “What good would that do? We already know it. She doesn’t even know about you. She just thinks I’m a possessive jealous husband.”

  “Just...don’t do anything tonight. You’re alone there at home, then great. Don’t call her. Don’t say anything. Get some sleep. And talk to her when you’ve calmed down.”

  He was silent at that, and I hoped I had finally gotten to him.

  “I miss you,” he said.

  I ended the call there, and after a second, shut the phone off completely. I held it against my lips, a white powerless brick, as I rode the elevator up and slipped back into Damon’s apartment. I’d left the door unlocked, instead of fiddled around for a key.

  I knew he was awake when I slid into bed again, but I still did it gently.

  “What did he want?” Damon asked.

  “Advice,” I answered. “That’s all.”

  I closed my eyes and reached for him, kissing his arm, his neck, then his mouth. Nothing was wrong, and Thad was only a desperate old friend.

  Things needed to stay perfect, until the last possible moment.

  Chapter 17

  “I’m glad you’re here, Manang,” I told my sister unironically.

  She thought I was being ironic. “I’ll be out of here by tomorrow, and you’ll be the only child again, don’t worry.”

  We used to joke about that. I would have had an easier time growing up if I were an only child, or if at least she wasn’t so goody-goody perfect. Julie’s retort was that she’d have half the stress if I weren’t around.

  Nothing felt like home more than looking at her, my mom, and my dad across from me at the dinner table. I didn’t do family hugs, but this was close to it. Didn’t even realize until then, when she suddenly showed up for dinner, how much I needed this.

  They were talking about hypertension. My dad and mom had it, and Julie was wondering if she should get checked for it. I wanted to say at some point that she’d lower her blood pressure if she loosened up a bit, but decided I wasn’t in the mood to tease her. Which meant I had nothing else to contribute so I sat there and ate my adobo, and it was the best adobo I’d had in a long time.

  “You haven’t complained about the new job once, Andrea,” Mom said, obviously a ploy to get me talking. “Things are better?”

  “I’m working it,” I said, laying on the cheer. “I’m their star. They’re lucky to have hired me.”

  Julie rolled her eyes. “Always so humble.”

  “I really am enjoying working there though. They’re a bit hipster about things, but it doesn’t bother me. The work gets done. Which is why…” I cleared my throat. “Why I’m considering moving to Makati. I’ll find a place closer to the office. The daily travel is getting on my nerves.”

  That was supposed to be casual, oh by the way...but when I saw the looks on their faces it was as if I had announced something major. And it was.

  “Wow,” Julie said. “I’m glad I was here for this.”

  “You can afford it?” my dad asked.

  I nodded. “I think I’ll need to buy less expensive coffee, but I’ll be okay.”

  Dad smirked. “You shouldn’t be buying expensive coffee at all.”

  “Are you moving in with anyone?” Mom asked, and Julie’s eyes popped. “What? I’d rather she told me than see my friends gossiping about it online.”

  Ladies and gentlemen, my mother. “No, Mom. I’m not moving in with Damon.”

  “Oh,” she said, and strangely enough she might have looked a little disappointed. “Well, not that you should. Of course you should try living on your own, Andrea. You know we always encouraged it.”

  They did. I never took them up on it though. I already made crazy decisions daily, and felt that I needed a constant thing, a home that really felt like one. For as long as I could, at least, until the need to make crazy decisions ultimately led me to give up even this.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’m going to start looking. It’s just going to be a place to stay in during the work days anyway. It’s not like I’m totally moving out and taking everything. I hope to get all of this done soon. “

  I could feel Julie’s eyes on me. “Did anything happen?”

  “What?”

  “I mean, why move now? What’s bringing this on?”

  “You’re confusing me with yourself, Julie. You do things because things happened to you. I don’t wait.”

  She folded her arms. “You’re about to do something then.”

  “Julie, your sister isn’t six anymore,” Mom said, but the look was sort of in her eye as well. “And if she needed help with anything, she’d talk to us, right?”

  “I don’t kno
w, Mom,” Julie said. “Andrea likes to shock. Is this one of those times that you just want to shock? Because really, I’d like some advance warning.”

  “Oh, relax,” I said. “I’m fine. I’m great. Work is awesome, and Damon’s great, and I’m making the adult decision to move out of my parents’ house. Why are you suspicious of that? Isn’t it exactly what you want to hear from me?”

  Now even my dad was beginning to frown. “Are you pregnant?”

  What the hell!

  “Everyone, go back to your dinner!” I yelped. “No more speculating about me. I thought I’d say something mature like tell you my future plans, and you go all crazy on me.”

  ***

  When Damon asked me out to lunch right after what was supposed to have been a one-night stand, he said he just wanted us to be cool, because our office buildings were so close and he didn't want us to run into each other on the street and have it be awkward.

  On Monday we ran into each other on the street, and it was a little awkward.

  We didn't make plans to meet that day because...we didn't have to meet every day, come on. Some nights he was in the gym for hours, others he was out for dinners with clients, and whatever else. I didn’t keep track and didn’t need to.

  That night I was working late on something and stepped out to get a sandwich for dinner, and saw him as he turned the corner.

  “You're still here,” he said.

  The sky might have turned dark but that just meant all the city lights were on, and whatever moment this could have been was illuminated by headlights of cars crawling out of the business district. It made me feel like I needed to get out of there, but it wasn't his fault.

  “Grabbing dinner,” I said. “Client needs this tomorrow and of course asked for it right before I left.”

  “You need a ride home? I won't be leaving for another hour or so.”

  I shook my head. “I don't know how long this'll take.”

  “Okay.” Damon's eyes trailed down. “I'm meeting Geraldine for dinner.”

  “Oh. To talk about Saturday? Of course.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, don't tell her I said hi.”

  He smirked. “Text me if you need a ride, anyway.”

  Smooth. Avoiding the discussion. I was ready to play my part again if he forced my hand, and tell him that I didn’t mind at all that he was heading out to dinner with the girl he'd been wanting to fuck for two years now, but he didn't. So I didn't.

  We looked at each other and he dropped a quick kiss on my mouth before leaving.

  ***

  God damn it, Geraldine. How much time do you need?

  Daily texting. Semi regular calling. Possibly a lot more social media posturing that I couldn't even see, because I didn't care to check.

  If she had any skill she could have at least made out with him by the first dinner they had alone, and I was pretty sure that she didn't get it done.

  Damon had to work late the next day so he offered to treat me to coffee in the afternoon and he was so goddamn sunny. Happy. Not a word about Geraldine, no “we have to talk,” nothing heavy bearing down on his conscience. I already gave him an out, and he knew it. All he had to do was say, “You're right.”

  Instead he was telling me about some private island in Visayas.

  “If we book tickets this month we'll get them at half price...take a drive from Cebu then check out the port at...tents and portable grill and seafood...” Blah blah blah.

  “You're missing the point of why I do it,” I said. “Spontaneity.”

  “Hmm. I should have just surprised you with tickets then.” He wasn't bothered by my lack of enthusiasm. “Is it still spontaneous if I plan it and you don’t?”

  I bit my tongue, literally. It wasn’t painful but it twisted my lips into a smirk, that I turned into a smile. I didn't want this to end badly, with a fight and much drama. That kind of separation only led to passionate reconciliation. I needed this to be exactly what it had always been: quick to start, easy to end.

  “It's your money, Damon,” I said.

  “Damn right it is.”

  Chapter 18

  Damon tried to make plans on Wednesday, but I firmly said no. If Geraldine knew what she was doing she should have “accidentally” planned a follow up to their dinner already. Didn't care what the excuse would be this time, but the timing was perfect and his calendar would be clear.

  The truth was that I didn't have anything to do so I ended up walking. Toward the gun range that Damon brought me to. It was a long walk but I could manage to do it, from my office, without collapsing onto the sidewalk. When I started I told myself it was to check out buildings nearby I could rent rooms from, but each time I crossed the street I brought myself closer to it.

  It was in one of the older malls. Nobody I knew hung out here after work unless they had hobbies like kickboxing or shooting. No fancy coffee shops here; just bazaar goods, sports accessories, and places to release aggression.

  And yet I didn't have any anger. I didn't particularly enjoy the feeling of the gun in my hand, of releasing rounds into a target. I felt like I understood Damon that time, but not myself.

  I needed to take an escalator down to the gun range but I must have taken the wrong one because I found myself at an archery range instead.

  And decided to give it a shot. So to speak.

  I wasn’t sure what to expect on a workday evening, but there were two other people there, apart from the staff. A girl who looked about ten years old, and a guy who was probably her dad. It looked a lot like the gun range. Different smell and sounds, but similar enough that I managed to get a bow, some arrows, and thirty minutes of shooting time in much the same way.

  “Have you done this before?” The instructor even kind of resembled the guy at the gun range, from the collared shirt to the sunglasses hanging out of one of his jean pockets.

  “Kind of. Shooting a gun count?”

  “No,” he said, looking a little irritated. “This is about patience and focus.”

  I tried hard not to laugh, because Damon would probably argue with him on that point. And yet I wasn’t hating the feel of the bow in my hand, the taut stretch that I felt in my arm as I pulled at the arrow as instructed, and released.

  It swooped down and wouldn’t have killed the target.

  “It’s all in the alignment,” I was told. “Use the sight. And don’t take too long. Your arm weakens and you lose the aim.”

  Doing this was a little more involved too, because once I was out of arrows I had to walk to the target to retrieve them. Little Katniss beside me was much better at it, and her instructor was barely speaking to her.

  I didn’t have this, growing up. Didn’t devote myself to something the way Damon or little Katniss (obviously not her name) did. Was it the reason why I was such a freaking butterfly, flitting around and not settling down anywhere? I never had the patience for something like this. Never had the focus to know something so completely.

  The girl noticed that I was watching her, because I wasn't subtle about it.

  “How long have you been doing this?” I asked.

  “January,” she said, and it was like she said “forever” in that matter-of-fact way.

  “Do you like it?”

  “Excuse me,” she said, drawing her bow and firing. The arrow swooshed past us and the sound it made was sharp and satisfying, but she missed her bull's eye by a hair. She shrugged at that result and looked at me again. “Yeah, it's fun.”

  “How long before I become as good as you?”

  She eyed my own handiwork, four arrows in an odd pattern too far from their intended target. “You're supposed to get beginner's luck your first time anyway. Just wait for it.”

  I laughed, not entirely sure if she was serious. “Is that a rule? Everyone gets lucky the first time?”

  “Oh yeah. It just happens. You try it and you think you suck and then you hit it right. Or close enough. And you'll be happy with it.”

/>   I looked over at the expert instructor and he actually nodded. “Like I said, it's when you stop thinking about it too much.”

  “That's not talent though,” I said. “That doesn't mean I got a sign from the universe that I'm good at this.”

  The girl rolled her eyes. “Of course not. But then you keep coming back so you can learn how to get it right all the time.”

  Well said, Little Katniss. I nodded, and loaded my next arrow. It missed the target again but maybe it was meant to.

  ***

  Damon called me at work. That time I happened to be in what was technically the office pantry, editing a presentation on my laptop. “Are you dumping me?” he demanded.

  “What?”

  “You dump someone every two months or so, right?”

  “I have in the past, yes.”

  “And how do you do it? You're suddenly busy at work? Lots of overtime? Nights out with the girls?”

  “You know it because you do it too.”

  “Fuck yeah I've done that too. Why are you pushing her on me?”

  That was an outlandish accusation. I wasn't pushing! This wasn't me pushing, because if it were, it would be effective. They would be together by now, and he would have gotten this bad habit out of his system, or at least woken up in bliss and proposed marriage to her on the spot.

  “You're imagining things,” I said, choosing that moment to check if I was still alone in here, and I was. “Why, did you see her again?”

  “She wants to meet tomorrow.”

  Friday. The day before their shooting thing. At least the woman was getting some ground work done. In theory she could make her move on Saturday, but she and Damon had actual work to do and people to manage, so if she knew what she was doing, she'd have to begin her flirt game on Friday. Which was short notice as it was, so she'd have to be aggressive.

  How would that change if I met him tonight...?

  “Then meet her tomorrow. She just wants to talk about Saturday, right?”