Bucket List To Love

by C. P. Santi

  Bucket List to Love

  By C. P. Santi

  Copyright

  Bucket List To Love

  by C. P. Santi

  Copyright © 2017 by C. P. Santi

  Amazon Edition

  This ebook is for your personal enjoyment only and may not be resold or given away. If you would like to share this with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or used purely in a fictional manner. Any similarity, intended or otherwise, is purely coincidental.

  Cover art and layout by Clarissa Ines

  Edited by Ines Bautista-Yao

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Author’s Notes

  Acknowledgements

  About C. P. Santi

  Bonus Story

  Glossary

  Chapter 1

  “You want to break up with me.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  Aya wasn’t an idiot. All the signs were there. And attuned to Adrian as she was, the signs were pretty hard to miss. But even if she were deaf and blind, she would’ve found it odd that her boyfriend of almost six years had not only been unresponsive to her kiss, he also pushed her away. An odd reaction, especially since they’d been apart for nine months. When she had asked him what was wrong, he looked away.

  Her sisters were right—this surprise visit was a bad idea. But since she hadn’t been able to meet Adrian when he arrived at the airport last night, this had seemed like the next best thing.

  And it had started off so well. Gus, Adrian’s younger brother, had let her in, just as he always had. He winked and said his Kuya was going to enjoy his first day back. Tito Francis, Adrian’s father, smiled when Aya kissed his cheek in greeting. Tita Nanette, Adrian’s mom, hugged her before shooing her upstairs to wake Adrian up for breakfast.

  Apparently they hadn’t known anything was up either.

  Adrian swung his legs over the side of the bed. He looked wary and unsure. “Aya, I’m sorry but . . .”

  “Please,” she cut him off, “don’t give me the whole it’s-not-you-it’s-me crap.” Aya had used it often enough in the past to know that the line was pure bullshit.

  A muscle in his jaw twitched, like he was gritting his teeth to rein in his temper. This was new. She realized that in all their years together, he hadn’t lost his temper with her. Not even once. Sure he’d been annoyed lots of times, but he’d mostly let her have her way in the end.

  “Aya, I’m sorry. This—us—it’s just not working out.” At her glare, he sighed and looked away. “I-I met someone, all right?”

  “You . . . cheated on me?”

  He raised his hands, as if to placate her. “No, Aya. I didn’t cheat on you. At least, not technically.”

  He closed his eyes, and for what seemed like a long time, he was silent. Then he shook his head and looked at her. “It’s just that if I loved you like I should, I wouldn’t be having all these feelings for another person. And it’s just not fair to you. You deserve someone . . .”

  Aya held up a hand to stop him. “I know what I deserve. And it isn’t you. We’re done, Adrian.” Hand on the doorknob, she turned back, her voice saccharine sweet. “Oh, by the way, I brought you breakfast.” And with that, she hurled a paper bag containing a pricey cappuccino and a bagel at his crotch.

  He yelped as the coffee spilled everywhere.

  “Welcome home and Merry Christmas.” She smiled sweetly before she slammed his bedroom door. Ignoring the concerned voices of his family, she rushed out of their house.

  It was only when she was ensconced in the security of her car that she finally allowed her tears to fall.

  + + +

  “I’m guessing the whole surprise thing didn’t work out.”

  Aya looked over to where her older sister, Mayumi, was doing a reverse warrior pose on their living room floor. She sighed. As much as she wanted to, there was no escaping this interrogation.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be meditating, Ate Yumi?”

  “I am. I’m fabulous at multi-tasking. Hold that thought.” Yumi breathed deeply as she slid into the next pose.

  Aya grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. She sat down by the counter when the bathroom door opened.

  “Oh. My. God. Are you okay?” Her eyes wide with alarm, Kit stepped toward her.

  Aya stared at her younger sister. “What do you mean?”

  “What happened, Ate?”

  “How do you even know something happened?”

  Yumi clicked her tongue as she shifted into a low lunge. “Ano ba? It’s obvious. No satisfied afterglow. No post-hookup energy spilling out.”

  “And, most telling, you cut your hair.” Kit tilted her head. “It looks good. Suits you, actually.”

  “Thanks.” Aya ran a hand through her hair. The Korean stylist had only cut off a couple of inches and her hair still hung well below her shoulders. But instead of the straight, no-nonsense cut Aya usually wore in a ponytail, her hair was now layered and colored. The stylist had even added asymmetrical bangs to frame her face.

  “So, what happened?” Kit rubbed a towel over her wet hair.

  “Adrian tried to break up with me.”

  There was about five seconds of silence before all hell broke loose.

  “What!” Yumi fell out of her tree pose. “That good-for-nothing slime ball . . .”

  “That moon-faced idiot! What, he thinks he could do better?”

  “I’m going to slice off his teeny-tiny penis and feed it to the koi in the park!”

  “Or better yet, do some voodoo to make it shrink permanently!” Kit’s smile was pure evil.

  Despite the situation, Aya smiled. Her sisters might not be the most tactful of people, but they loved her. And boy, were they loyal.

  “Don’t worry, I broke up with him first.” She told them about her coffee-throwing fit and they exploded into gales of laughter. When they calmed down, Yumi and Kit began pulling supplies out of the cabinets and freezer.

  Emergency breakup supplies, Aya thought, as her sisters scooped ice cream into bowls and unpacked containers of dried fruit, cookies, and chocolate.

  Her sisters went through men like they went through clothes (which, in their case, was relatively fast). In the past few years, Aya had tended to so many post-breakup blues that she made sure there were always emergency breakup supplies on hand.

  She just never thought she would need them one day.

  “You should have broken up with him ages ago,” Yumi said an hour later, as she scraped the bottom of the container.

  “I always wondered why you stayed with him so long.” Kit licked her spoon. “You know, we never really liked him.”

 
Before Aya could answer, Yumi shook her head. “Oh, Marikit. Obviously, Aya was rebelling.”

  “I was? Against what?”

  “Against us.” Yumi pointed her spoon at herself and Kit. “Against our non-commitment issues. You wanted to be able to go the distance.”

  “That isn’t why—”

  “Want to know why you got together with him?” Yumi’s voice held a hint of challenge.

  “Because I loved him!”

  “No. It was because of that pregnancy scare I had.” Her sister’s voice was soft as she remembered that painful time. “That slime ball, Marco, skipped town . . .”

  “And we were all freaking out.” Kit nodded.

  “And the very next week, Aya got together with steady and dependable Adrian—the person most unlikely to leave her in a crisis.”

  Aya shook her head, but it felt as if a bucket of cold water had been emptied over her head. It couldn’t have been. She had loved Adrian. Hadn’t she?

  “Do you want him back?” Yumi asked.

  “Hell, no!”

  Her younger sister tilted her head. “But if you really truly loved him, you’d want to work things out, right?”

  “No effing way! After he cheated . . .”

  “But didn’t technically cheat, it seems he wanted a clean break.”

  “But how could he even, after I . . .”

  “After you what? After you chose him out of all your suitors? After you gave him your virginity?” Yumi squeezed her sister’s hand. “It was always your choice, Aya. Yours.”

  “I know that, Ate.” Aya sighed. “It’s just that . . . this wasn’t how I expected things to work out.”

  “And as you’ve often told us, things don’t always work out the way we want them to.” From across the counter, Kit’s eyes brimmed with understanding.

  “You’ve always liked being the one in control, Aya. That’s why you were with Adrian.”

  Aya laughed bitterly. “If I could control him, I wouldn’t be needing emergency breakup ice cream.”

  Her older sister shook her head. “It’s not him you could control. It was your feelings for him. Right now, you’re hurt. But I think it’s your pride that’s bruised, rather than your heart.”

  “Are you sure you’re hosting a lifestyle program? You should shift to showbiz intrigue,” Aya joked. But inside, a little part of her wondered if her sister was right.

  It was true that she’d thought Adrian steady and dependable. Her sisters called him boring, but Aya had liked knowing what to expect from him. Ate Yumi and Kit were always checking up on their guys—playboy model types who had hordes of women coming on to them. Aya never had that problem with Adrian. He had adored her. And she . . . well, she loved him enough to be intimate with him.

  But it hadn’t been enough.

  Kit hefted another half gallon of ice cream onto the counter and asked, “Ready for Round Two?”

  Chapter 2

  “You don’t have to go, hija.”

  “It’s okay, Mom.”

  “No, really. You could study here.” Annacris Contreras paused to pass her husband a serving bowl. “Or you could apply to an American university. Right, Ramon?”

  Ramon Contreras raised his brows at his daughter. “If that’s what Malaya wants.”

  This was not the way Aya had envisioned things. Sunday lunch at their parents’ home was supposed to be a happy time. And she had hoped her family would be happy that she had been awarded a full scholarship to study in Tokyo.

  Well, they were.

  But their happiness was overshadowed by concern. After all, Adrian—and his new girlfriend—were in Tokyo.

  But it had been almost three months since she and Adrian had broken up. And Aya was more than ready to move on.

  Or at least, that was what she told herself.

  “This is an amazing opportunity.” Aya’s voice was firm as she argued her case. “I can’t give it up.”

  Am I convincing my parents or myself?

  Putting up her own design firm had been Aya’s dream since she had graduated from university. Working at a large architectural firm had taught her that if she wanted to make her mark, she needed an edge.

  Tokyo could give her that edge.

  Aya had always been fascinated by modern Japanese architecture. She liked the logic behind their illogical forms. She admired the design processes that had led up to them. And she wanted to learn from them.

  So when Adrian had told her he was going to pursue graduate studies in engineering in Tokyo, she took it as a sign. She readied her own application and began taking Japanese language classes even before Adrian left Manila last year.

  “But, hija . . .” Deep concern was etched on her mother’s face.

  “Mom, I’ll be fine.” She gave her mother a reassuring smile. Turning to Kit, she lightly tugged at her earring, signaling a diversion. “Kit, have you told them about your news?”

  Picking up her cue, Kit chirped, “Mommy, you will never believe it. Red Libiran wants to do a collaborative shirt project . . .”

  As her mother’s attention was successfully diverted, Aya breathed a sigh of relief. She was safe.

  For now at least.

  + + +

  “So are you going, Malaya?”

  “Yes, Dad.” Aya smiled. Ramon Contreras always made it a point to call his daughters by their full names.

  “You know we’re happy for you, right?” Ramon’s scruffy sandal kicked against the metal support to keep the swing in motion. “Your Mom and I, we’re just worried.”

  “I know you are, Dad.” She snuggled into his comforting embrace.

  They were sitting in their favorite spot, in the rickety old swing in the garden. Her mom and sisters were up in Yumi’s bedroom, putting together outfits for a photo shoot.

  “But you know,” Ramon glanced at his daughter. “I’d be more worried if you were still together with Adrian. I’m glad you broke up with him, Malaya.”

  “But I thought you liked him.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t like him, Malaya.” Her father paused, as if he were choosing his words carefully. “Adrian’s a nice enough guy. And I’m sure he’ll make some girl very happy someday.”

  “Just not me.”

  “No. Just not you.” Her father ruffled her hair. “You weren’t right for each other.”

  “But why didn’t you tell me all this before?”

  “Oh, c’mon. Would it have made any difference?” He laughed. “I stopped offering advice to my daughters when I realized Mayumi often did the exact opposite of what I’d asked her.”

  Yeah, that. Ate Yumi’s rebellious phase might have gotten a bit out of hand.

  “But you . . . you’re different, Malaya. You may look like your mom, but you’re so like me in many ways. And that worries me.”

  Aya’s brow furrowed. “It worries you how? Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing?”

  “Don’t get me wrong.” He plucked a flower from the hedge behind them and twirled it between his fingers. “I’m proud of how focused and goal-oriented you are. And if you’d studied engineering instead of architecture, you’d be perfect.”

  “Da-ad.” Aya elbowed him.

  Her father was a civil engineer and the proprietor of a large construction company. He constantly teased her about architecture being all about highfalutin unbuildable concepts. In turn, she teased him about engineers lacking imagination.

  “Your mom phrased it quite accurately.” He cocked his head as he thought of what his wife had said. “She said that I . . . well, we like to plan things.”

  “And that’s bad how?”

  “That’s exactly what I said.” He chuckled. “You’re like me. You’ve got your whole life mapped out. I know I did when I was your age. But sometimes, things just don’t go according to our plans. And we have to accept that.”

  “I know that, Dad.”

  But knowing and accepting are two very different things.

  They sat in silence,
listening to crickets and breathing in the dewy smell of freshly mown grass.

  “Malaya?”

  “Hmm, Dad?”

  “Enjoy yourself in Tokyo.”

  Aya smiled as she felt him kiss the top of her head. “I will, Dad.”

  + + +

  “Adrian lasted how many years?” Kit scrunched up her brows.

  “Almost six.” Aya poured some soy sauce into a dish.

  Yumi inspected a plate of sushithat was approaching. “You missed out on a lot, Aya.”

  “What exactly did I miss out on?” Aya asked. She and her sisters were eating at Hashi, a popular sushi bar in Makati. Kobae-san, the chef, was a big fan of Yumi’s cable show and they always got great service.

  Her older sister sighed. “You should have been out exploring and meeting guys . . .”

  “Going on dates and making out . . .” Kit chimed in, as if on cue.

  “And sleeping around and breaking hearts.”

  “Wow. Did you guys actually practice those lines?” Aya always thought her sisters would have done well in theater.

  “Malayaaa.” Yumi pointed at the sushi. “Look at this. What do you see?”

  “Uh, sushi on plates moving around on a conveyor belt?”

  “You’re thinking like an engineer again.”

  “Well technically, I’m an architect.”

  “Malaya.”

  Aya raised her hands in defeat. “Okay, fine. What exactly am I supposed to be seeing?”

  On either side of her, her sisters leaned in. Together, they stared at the sushi. “Waiting for the right man is very much like eating sushi,” Yumi said in a low, mysterious voice. Aya snickered, but her sister ignored her. “Sure, there’s a never-ending parade before you. But you have to be quick and get what you want or else someone else will.”

  Eyes flashing, she looked at Aya before she continued. “Life is exciting—full of choices. But what do you do, Aya? You always get the same old ebi sushi.”

  “Why not? It’s my favorite!” Aya reached for another plate of her favorite sushi.

  “You never get anything else!”