It’s Always You
Chapter 6: Moving On to Not Letting Go
It has been almost a year since that incident when Kim made a disappearing act. Vegas' anger took a while to subside, and Kim struggled to earn his forgiveness. He had to think of several ways to persuade his cousin and best friend to forgive him. But, everyone knows that Vegas' anger is his way of expressing his concern and love for the people dearest to him.
Now, he and Kim are sitting at a cafe as they wait for Pete to finish his meeting with one of his managers. Pete established a restaurant that specializes in Southern Thai cuisine. He was able to expand to three locations within the city. Today, they were going around checking up on the branches and ensuring that everything was in working order. Knowing that they have nothing to contribute, Kim and Vegas decided to back off and wait for Pete at a cafe nearby. They don't want to impede his work.
Vegas stared at Kim, who was sitting across from him. The latter is on his phone, probably texting his lover. She was not able to join them due to a prior engagement she cannot cancel. Now, Kim is texting her with a small smile on his face. But, Vegas can see something is not right though Kim looks happy to everyone else that sees him. He doesn't quite seem like the Kim he knows. Everything looks forced. But, Vegas did not want to intrude and meddle on his affairs. Nevertheless, he wants to get a clear picture of what Kim feels.
Vegas picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip. He looked at the man in front of him intently and waited till he finished typing a reply. "Kim," he called him as soon as he saw Kim hit send and put his cup down. Kim looked at him and picked up his cup of iced coffee to take a sip. He raised his eyebrow in acknowledgement, urging Vegas to continue. "Are you finally happy with her?" Vegas asked without preamble, as he stared directly into Kim's eyes.
He noticed Kim stopped sipping his drink midway. There was a look of surprise then confusion in the way his eyebrows started knitting together. Kim slowly put his drink back on top of the table and averted his gaze outside the window. He blankly looked at the passing cars and people, contemplating his emotions and considering his feelings. Vegas watched his cousin silently and waited for him to come to a conclusion about the state of his genuine feelings.
"Why do you ask?" Kim softly asked a moment later. Vegas almost missed it if he was not waiting. Hurt etched at the corner of Kim's eyes as he turned back to his cousin. "Why do you ask, Vegas?" he repeated, louder this time.
Vegas looked intently into his cousin's eyes. He was looking for a way to phrase his next statement without making it sound assuming and accusatory. Vegas licked his lip and swallowed a lump in his throat. "Because, I know you too well, Kimhan. You cannot hide from me," the older of the two cousins gave the younger cousin a gentle smile.
Kim shook his head with a wry laugh, his pointer finger rising in the air. It meant two things between the two of them; for Vegas to stop talking and not to dare accuse him. Vegas sighed at this reaction.
"I'm not trying to accuse you of anything, Kim. I just want to hear your truth," Vegas said slowly. Kim's incredulous expression turned to a wry smile. He pinched the bridge of his nose and refused to acknowledge what Vegas was implying. "Kim, I know you are trying. But, it's best to let go if you don't feel anything for her. It will hurt her. Don't make the same mistake again, man," he continued.
"I don't deserve him, Vegas," was what he heard from Kim as an answer. Kim looked up at him again, hurt and pain evident in his eyes. "After hurting him like that? I don't ever deserve to have him again," Kim leaned forward, putting his elbows on top of his knees and buried his face in his hands. "Porchay is too pure to be with someone like me," he uttered in tortured voice.
Vegas watched as his cousin look so tortured and pained by the thought of Porchay. It's been a year. Yet, Kim has never told him about what happened between him and Porchay. All Vegas knows is that Kim and Chay had been having small fights those days before it blew up and they finally broke up. He still does not have the heart to ask his cousin the story. But, one thing is for sure, Kim is only forcing himself to love her and she doesn't deserve the half-assed effort he has been giving.
"But, she also doesn't deserve what you're giving her, Kimhan," Vegas said in a low voice as he also leaned forward to look Kim eye to eye. "She does not deserve to get only half of you,” he said slowly.
Vegas gave Kim another smile, it’s small and full of sympathy. It is one of the expressions Kim hates seeing. Kim ran his hand over his face and brushed it through his hair as he sat back.
Vegas watched him intently. “It's either you learn to let go of Porchay to give her your all, or you don't give her anything at all and start fighting for Chay with everything you have, Kim," he continued. Vegas leaned back again as he picked his cup up for a sip. "Think about it, Kim. I'll let you decide what to do," Vegas advised as he watched Pete enter the cafè and walk to where they were sitting.
You locked your phone after reading the last reply your boyfriend sent. It was enough to ease some of the tension you have been feeling ever since you started driving earlier. You gathered all your belongings and got out of the car. Clicking the lock button on the key fob, you began walking away from your vehicle to get to the restaurant where you agreed to meet with someone.
It was a two minute walk from where you parked your car to the restaurant. You were feeling nervous the whole time you were on your way. Feeling your heart beating twice as fast, you pushed the heavy glass doors to enter the restaurant.
A smiling maitre'd greeted her as soon as you got inside. You smiled back at the maitre'd and spoke about the reservation made under the name of the person you are meeting. The maitre'd checked the master list before guiding you to your assigned table.
You followed the maitre’d further inside the restaurant to a private corner. The table was nestled between gigantic pots of monstera deliciosa and palm ferns. It provided a sense of intimacy and privacy to the table. The giant pots also made her feel calm.
You saw the person you had agreed to meet already sitting at the table. Taking a deep breath, you strolled to the table with all the confidence you can muster. Giving the maitre'd a smile as you mumbled your thanks, you approached the seat nearest to you. Taking out the chair, you placed her bag on the adjacent seat and sat down. You refused to look up as you fidgeted with the utensils set uniformly atop the table.
Unbeknownst to you, the person sitting across from you is starting to get irritated and impatient. However, you refuse to address her. The clearing of her throat startled you out of your efforts to not look nor acknowledge her presence.
"Hello, dear," you flinched since the other person's high-pitched voice felt like a screeching noise in your ear. "I see you still have not found your manners," they continued.
You scoffed at that remark. "It was never as if you deserve an ounce of respect from me," was your biting retort to her acid remark.
"Watch your words, I'm still your mother," the screeching voice venomously hissed at her.
"No,” you scoffed at her use of the word that is supposed to evoke warm feelings, yet it does not work on you. “You never really had any motherly instinct. You're simply the woman who gave birth to me," you bit back. "Y' know what? There's no point to this. It's just a waste of time," you made an attempt to stand up, picking up her handbag from the adjacent seat.
"Sit your ass down, young lady, before I pull you back to that seat," the woman who calls herself your mother threatened you.
You cannot help but release a dry, incredulous laugh. "Go on," you challenged. "At this point, I'm not even intimidated by such threats," you spat and stood up from her seat.
"You really are such an ungrateful, brat," the woman spat with a venomous voice.
The remark made you stop in your tracks. You felt incredulous to ever give a damn about what this woman thinks and says. Steeling yourself and gathering all the confidence in your body, you faced the woman who calls herself your mother, "I was grateful for a lot of things; the roof above my head, the food I was able to eat three times a day, the clothes on my back. Yes, they were all given by you and dad. But, you know what I was most grateful for?" you asked her. "I was, and still am, grateful that I was able to walk away from such a manipulative, deceiving and wretched person like you. Heck! I can never thank God enough that I have the means to get out of the hell hole you made of what was supposed to be a loving home," you spat, full of pain and hatred for the woman in front of you.
You watched as the woman's face morphed from proud to fuming and angry humiliation. Her expression is one of indignation. It made you feel proud that you could stand up to that vile woman. You are grateful you are not the lost child that you were in front of the woman who gave her birth anymore. Looking proudly into the other's eyes, you steeled herself to continue saying the things you had been keeping inside her for all these years.
"You were never motherly," you scoffed. "Heck! I don't even remember much of my childhood because of your emotional abandonment. You were never there. If you were, all you do is command me on being a good, proper school girl. Then, you gaslit me into doing things because you provided me a house, food, clothes, money, and everything else anyone could ever ask for," you chuckled drily. "Reality check, you bitch! That. Was. Your. Fucking. Obligation!” you leaned down and iterated each word. “But, I guess people only give birth because they see their kids as tools, “ you chided.
“That is not what being a mother is about. But, I guess, we both know that you are not capable of that. We guess that you are one of those parents that tend to bleed their kids dry. Guess what? If whatever higher being there had let me choose my family, I would have NEVER chosen you,” You pushed yourself off as a tear fell from your eyes. You can see your frank remark got to her. "I don't know why I didn't see your wretchedness much sooner but crave for your love and approval. I wouldn't have been this fucked up if I just saw it sooner," you scoffed as you checked if your clothes look proper and there is no speck of dirt on it.
"That was the past. I have no ties to you now. You have no hold on me anymore, and you never will. I'm living a life of my own now, away from you. So, let me be. Don't come for me again. Besides, I don't ever wish to see you again anyway," you ended proudly and walked away from the woman. you felt proud that her voice never once waver, that you never sounded vulnerable. Now, you feel some of the cloud that had been surrounding her lift. It made her feel lighter, brighter.
Macau asked Porchay to stay over at their house so they could study together. It's their exam season although they are studying in different programmes. Macau is taking a Communication course while taking a Minor in Arts. On the other hand, Porchay decided to still pursue Music.
Their next few days will be spent drowning in revisions, notes, lectures and powerpoint slides. Although they are in different courses, they share some of their minor subjects together. Macau often borrows Chay's notes since he writes better notes than him. It's the primary reason he asked Chay to stay over.
They are now in his bed with his cat, Mafia. He was busy copying the notes Chay lent him while the cat was observing him. They were joking about how he was studying with them when they heard the doors downstairs. Macau and Chay did not pay them any mind and continued with their reviewers. A few moments later, the door to Macau's room was pushed open and Pete peaked inside.
"Hi, P'Pete," Porchay greeted his brother's best friend. Macau turned to the door and just watched as Pete gave them a big smile, the one that his brother loves so much.
"How have reviews been treating you?" the older asked the two students.
"We're getting by, P'Pete," Macau answered for the two of them. "Why are you here?" he asked. He did not intend to sound rude. It was just that, his mind is too preoccupied trying to make sense of the notes he’s copying and internalizing the concepts. Pete understands and did not think much of it.
"I just wanted to tell you that Vegas and I brought back some snacks in case you feel hungry or want to take a break," Pete informed them.
"Thank you, Phi," Porchay thanked the older man with a big smile as he closed the notebook he was holding. "I do feel a little hungry," he remarked which Macau and Pete chuckled to.
"You're always hungry," Macau remarked as he, too, started to put away his pens and notebooks. Porchay glared at him and stuck his tongue out in answer. Macau just shook his head at the other boy's antics.
The three of them came out of Macau's room and came down the stairs together. The boys were joking around behind Pete as they made their way to the dining room where Vegas was busy taking out the snacks they bought. Pete hurriedly walked to Vegas' side to help him with the snacks as Porchay and Macau noisily came inside the room.
The two young boys ran to the table, which Vegas protested to, and enthusiastically looked at the array of dishes laid out in the middle of the table. Porchay was volunteering to get plates and utensils when another figure came out from the kitchen, holding a few plates and pairs of forks and knives. It made Porchay freeze in his spot, his eyes wide, like a deer caught in the headlights. Although it had been over a year since they broke up and Kim started seeing someone else, it does not mean Porchay has managed to move on.
No.
He's too far away from achieving that…