“Hi!” Layne says. They stand a few inches from each other looking into each other’s eyes. “That dress...”
“You like it?”
“I... I love it!”
“Good,” Kate says. “I’m hungry.”
Layne leads Kate to a restaurant down the street from his hotel. They make small talk, the way they usually did—talking about themselves and events without sharing too much.
This is going well, Layne thinks.
This time it had been Kate who initiated the meeting. She posted a quote from a novel-in-progress on her social media author page, but Layne knew it was a message for him. And it indicated the date, time, and place of their next meeting. It had been three months since Kuala Lumpur.
Kate
Kate is walking toward Layne on Orchard Road. She knows it is going to be the last time she would ever see Layne again, at least in the way they’ve been seeing each other. She knows it had to stop. She needs to make sure it will be memorable.
She is wearing the perfect dress—Layne has never seen her in a dress before. She likes the way his eyes light up when he sees her walking toward him. She likes the way he smiles as his eyes rakes over her body.
She can’t remember much of their dinner, but she remembers most of what happened after. The door to Layne’s hotel room had barely closed before they had started going at each other. Since it was the last time, she couldn’t get enough of Layne. She let him strip the dress off her, almost brusquely. He rips off her underwear and she let him devour her entire body with his hungry mouth. She tugs at his clothes, barely noticing the buttons that come off, and she touches every naked inch of him, trying to memorize the feel of him, everything about him. She clings to him desperately, hoping it isn’t the last time, but knowing it had to be so.
They are slick with sweat and winded after. Layne takes a couple of bottles from the mini bar and they drink their poison of choice. She feels a lump in her throat at the thought of never seeing Layne again. She gently takes hold of Layne’s face in both her hands and kisses him deeply. It is a long kiss. It is a kiss she didn’t want to end. She is memorizing the taste of Layne and the taste of them together. She is memorizing the feel of his lips and his tongue. She is memorizing the feel of Layne’s face on her hands, and the cadence of his breathing up close.
When she pulls away, Layne is breathless. She wants to cry, but she controls herself. If this is the last time, she wants it to be happy. She wants Layne to remember her happy. So she smiles at him.
Layne pulls her to him and he kisses her. It leads to the slowest, but the most poignant lovemaking they’ve ever done. Neither one of them wants it to end. It almost didn’t, but when they both come, Kate screams out in both passion and anguish. She can’t help herself anymore. The floodgates open. She cries unabashedly. Layne holds her all throughout, until they fall asleep.
Kate wakes up with a smile, although her eyes hurt. She is still entangled in Layne’s muscular limbs. He holds on to her like she is a lifeline. She breathes deeply, trying to memorize Layne’s smell, and their combined smell after their lovemaking.
She realizes it is almost time for her to go, so she stares at Layne’s face. Asleep, he looks like a little boy, innocent and pure. She slowly extricates herself from his embrace, careful not to wake him. She dresses up silently and quickly.
She takes one last look at Layne, imprinting him on her mind, and then she leaves.
She leaves him for the last time.
Layne
Somehow he already knows it in his gut this is the last time they were going to be together. It is in the way Kate carries herself, the way she acts, and the way she reacts to everything that happens between them. She weeps after they make love, and he doesn’t have the balls to confront her about it. He chickens out at the last minute.
When Kate falls asleep, he stares at her for a long time because he also feels it would be the last time he can gaze upon her sleeping face. He wants to wake her up and tell her he wants to see her again. He wants to wake her up and tell her he wants to take a chance with her. He wants to wake her up... but he doesn’t. He can’t. So he just snuggles close to her and holds her close, hoping it would be enough so she won’t go and leave him.
Layne wakes up an hour later, and as always, Kate is gone. No trace of her left, except for the memories in his head, and his body. This time, there is a finality to her absence.
He sits on the bed and rests his elbows on his knees and cradles his head.
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
He had approached it all wrong. He should have made his move way back during the first few times they met, but no, he had kept to his rules and principles and had let her slip through his fingers again and again.
She’s gone.
Layne lies down on the bed again, and suddenly he is burying his head on Kate’s pillow.
She can’t be gone. This can’t be it.
Layne’s thoughts run around in his head, as Kate’s scent invades his senses. He closes his eyes and sees her in her white dress, walking toward him.
That’s how he will always remember her. In white, approaching him with a smile and challenge in her eyes.
He will never look at a white dress the same ever again.
1
The Name
Layne walks wearily into his house in Manila, drops his bags, and calls out, “I’m home!”
His mother walks out of the kitchen and greets him with a hug and a kiss.
“Oh, I missed you so much, Layney! How was Singapore?”
“It was fine, ’Nay. As always, my presentations were a hit,” Layne says with a smile. “How’s your blood pressure? Have you been taking your medicine? Did you go for the checkup last Thursday?” he asks.
“Fine, yes, and yes! You are such a slave master, you know that?”
“I only ask you to do things for your own good, ’Nay,” Layne says gently, ruffling the hair of the woman who was his very first love. His mom, Nina, who he fondly calls ’Nay, short for Nanay, the Tagalog word for mother, has always had frail health, with her blood pressure shooting up at the slightest provocation. She is in her midfifties, petite, and slightly overweight. Her face is pretty, but it is showing the ravages of time and her poor health, but to Layne, she is still one of the most beautiful women in the world.
“Kuya!”
He hears the Tagalog word for older brother as three women run down the stairs and upon reaching him, give him a hug at the same time. Layne ruffles the hair of each of his sisters: seventeen-year-old Gidgette, nineteen-year-old Sophia, and twenty-three-year-old Portia.
“Did you bring us pasalubong?” Gidgette asks. As the youngest of the brood, she is still excited at the prospect of getting treats from Layne when he comes home from his travels. She is the most petite of the sisters, and with her short, curly hair, she looks even younger than her years.
“Aren’t you too old for pasalubong, Gidge?” Layne teases her.
“Never!” Gidgette says this with a big, bright smile, making her look like she was still a child.
“There are some chocolates in my bag.” Gidgette runs to get the chocolates.
“How were your exams, Soph?” Layne asks his second sister.
“Okay, Kuya, I studied very well, so I’m sure I did well,” Sophia answers with a smile. She is the most ladylike of his sisters. She wears dresses, fixes her long hair neatly, and reads romance novels like an addict. She is also the most creative, and Layne knows she writes stories whenever she can.
“And how’s law school going, Porsh?” Layne asks his closest sibling.
“Harder than I imagined, but I will not quit. I will make you proud, Kuya!” Portia answers. She is the tallest, the most intellectual, the most articulate, and the one with the strongest personality of all the sisters. She sports a no-nonsense bob cut that frames her pretty face.
After a while, the house is full of female chatter, and Layne excuses himself while they set out preparing fo
r dinner. He takes his luggage up to his room and starts unpacking.
Jonathan Sto. Domingo Jr.
That is his legal name. How he came to be named Layne is a story in itself.
Born in the eighties to a philandering man and a frail and soft-spoken woman, the baby boy was given his father’s name. His father Jon called him “Johnny.” His mother Nina called him “Nate.” Johnny/Nate was seven when his father took to listening to nineties rock music, focusing on the Seattle Grunge scene. His mother tolerated the music as she tolerated his father’s infidelities.
Nate had a relatively happy childhood, from what he remembered. For the first ten years of his life, he was an only child, doted on by his mother and being a boy, spending a lot of quality time with his father. He noticed that his father was away a lot, but his world revolved more around his mother that he didn’t mind. For all he knew, his parents were happy together.
His first sister, Portia, was born when he was ten, and suddenly Nate was a big brother. He doted on little Portia and fiercely protected her from all perceived harm. He helped his mother take care of Portia, learning how to change diapers, cleaning up after her, and even becoming her tutor when she started learning. Portia grew up with her brother Nate as her only male role model figure. Their father was more and more absent, always travelling as part of his corporate job and when in the country, he was always at the office rendering overtime or out-of-town to attend meetings.
Sophia was born when Nate was fourteen. This time he noticed a dip in his mother’s health situation. She had never been the healthiest, always first to get sick and always the last to recover. Giving birth to Sophia had made her weaker, her blood pressure more volatile. Barely into his teens, Nate had to be protector to his little sisters and his mother. At an early age, he took care of his mother when she was sick, and he minded four-year-old Portia as she navigated the brave new world of preschool. He also took care of baby Sophia, especially when his mother was too weak to do so. They hired a nanny/maid to help out in the house, but both Nate and his mom were hands on in caring for the two little girls.
Nate was used to not having his father around, and as long as the money kept coming in to support the family, he was okay. He would sometimes catch his mother crying when she thought she was alone, and now that he was older, Nate knew his mother pined for his father. It was at this time that Nate began to feel deep anger and resentment toward his father.
Gidgette was born two years later, when Nate was in his last year in high school. His mother’s health dipped further, and upon the doctor’s advice, she had her tubes tied. There would no longer be any pregnancies or children for her.
When Nate’s father, Jon, finally left his family for good, Nate was seventeen, Portia was eight, Sophia was four, and Gidgette was two. His wife, Nina, had just celebrated her fortieth birthday.
Jon had left them the house they lived in, transferring the title over to Nina. He also left them with educational policies so Nate would be able to finish college and the three girls would be able to complete their primary and secondary education. He also left Nina a bank account that would tide the family over until Nate graduates from college. Jon obviously had it all planned out.
However, regardless how well provided they seemed to be, Nina was devastated. She had hoped Nate would outgrow his philandering ways and settle down with her and the kids. What she didn’t count on was that Jon wanted to settle down with another woman and their kids. Jon left them for a twenty-seven-year-old woman who just gave birth to his twin sons.
Jon had taken all of his physical possessions, except for one of his Seattle Grunge CDs, which long-suffering Nina had kept for herself. It was an Alice in Chains MTV Unplugged album and there was a song, “No Excuses,” which she liked. Aside from the song, she also liked the band’s lead singer’s name – Layne Staley.
So she re-named her Nate as Layne. A new life. A new name.
Layne had wanted to distance himself from the man who ruined their lives, so he took the new name. And although he still retained his father’s name for legal and statutory reasons, everyone who knew him called him Layne.
His father had just left them when Layne met Shannon in college. He was taking an information technology course while Shan was a music major. They were classmates in some of their general education subjects. It was Shan who marveled at the similarities of their names—being named after lead singers of top ’90s alternative rock bands. She was referring to Shannon Hoon of Blind Melon, in her case. Layne was instantly smitten. Shan had this very large personality he was not used to, and for some reason, she took a liking to him.
Layne studied in an all-boys high school, so his interactions with girls were limited to his mom and sisters. Having Shan shower him with attention felt different, but it also felt good.
It was an easy relationship they had. They saw each other when they were free. Layne was deliriously happy, beginning to experience the first ever love of his life.
Until he realized the feeling was not entirely mutual.
Fifteen years ago
“I love you, Shan,” Layne said.
Shan looked at him and actually laughed. Layne felt his whole body grow cold. Out of all the reactions he expected, laughter was not one of them.
“Layney, we’re too young to think about love, don’t you see? Let’s just enjoy what we have, enjoy each other’s company, and not sweat the labels or details,” Shan told him lightly.
It would have been something he could have accepted lightly, had the conversation been at the school cafeteria, but no, it happened in Shan’s room, inside her house, when her parents were out of town for the weekend. And it happened after the first time Layne had ever gone all the way with a girl.
Shan, apparently, was not a virgin, and Layne did not admit he was one, although he was sure Shan knew. She was, of course, very experienced.
After that time, Layne learned to control his feelings and expectations. And he learned that without those feelings, he could still have fun, at least with Shan. And after Shan, there were a series of other girls who pursued him and offered him the same kind of relationship. They came from all over—some he met in school, some he met in his part-time job as a food server in a fast food chain, some he met while moonlighting as a gym instructor in a gym near his home, and some he met as fans or groupies from his very active sports life.
They were all casual sex encounters, no commitment. At the first sign of emotions from either side, Layne escaped. He couldn’t deal with love. He couldn’t get over the feeling of being laughed at for professing his love. He vowed never to be laughed at for being too emotional. Never again.
When he graduated from college, he had become a hardened man who didn’t believe in love anymore. Then it was time to be the man of the house, and see to his sisters’ college education, his mother’s health maintenance, and his family’s day-to-day expenses when the money his father left was depleted, and all else did not matter.
When he started working, he focused on opportunities where he could get training for technology applications and platforms that would be in-demand in the Philippines and abroad. This paved the way for him to pursue a career as a highly paid IT consultant who travelled a lot for projects.
He continued to enjoy the attention of the opposite sex from all walks of life and cultures. As always, he was careful in his encounters—no emotional ties, no physical risks. He started getting the reputation of a player. He didn’t care to correct the perception.
Two years ago, he got involved in a major roll-out project for a big multinational corporation. This enabled him to travel to almost all of the Asia Pacific countries where the corporation had a branch. That was why he was in Sydney, Ho Chi Minh, and Beijing. And that was the reason why he was able to schedule meetings and flights to Mumbai, Kuala Lumpur, and Singapore. When he is not travelling, he is involved in the implementation of the same project in the Manila office.
After he is finished unpacking, Layne
places his suitcase at the top shelf of his closet.
He looks around his neat and sparsely furnished room. This is his reality. He is the head of his family, his mother’s health is fragile, and his three sisters are all still in school. Portia should have started work already after she graduated and passed the CPA licensure exams, but she wanted to take up law. Portia is his closest sister, so he did not have the heart to tell her no. At least four more years before all his sisters become self-sufficient, and even then, his mother’s care would still be left to him.
There is no room for anything or anyone else, at least in his real life.
He had no experience with real love and he had a feeling he would suck at it.
These are the reasons he chickened out of asking Kate out. These are the reasons he hesitated. It wasn’t fair to bring her into his world where his focus is already mostly occupied by other people close to his heart. It wasn’t fair to bring Kate into a world where he didn’t even know the first thing about real romantic love.
And he couldn’t bear the thought of Kate laughing at him for expecting to take the relationship further.
He closes his eyes and sighs.
Then he smiles.
He is seeing white.
2
The Ring
Kate opens her eyes and her first real coherent thought is the look on Layne’s face when he saw her walking up to him in her white dress in Singapore a few days ago. That look was priceless. She smiles, and then she frowns, remembering that she had finally said goodbye to Layne.
She then realizes she is back in her apartment in the Philippines. Something clicks in her mind. She takes her right hand from under the covers and looks at the big but tasteful diamond solitaire ring on her ring finger. It is beautiful and Kate loves the way it looks and feels on her hand.
Kate, Finally Page 4
