20: Elise

BRANDON finally realized I wasn’t talking at all.
“Elise?”
“I think we should talk,” I said quietly.
There was a distinct pause there that told me he caught on to what I wanted to talk about. “What do you mean? We’re already talking.” His voice went an octave higher, trying to be casual, except for the amused laugh at the end that he wasn’t able to effectively carry.
“Brandon, I just can’t—”
“Don’t do this to me, Elise. Please,” he pushed in, voice stricken.
My heart thudded in surprise. That was too fast a reaction for someone I think was just acting. Did he not want to break up?
*Who was going to break up with whom? I thought it was going to be you?* argued the voice in my head, which again sounded like Alia’s voice.
*I know! Shut up and stop distracting me.*
“Brandon, this isn’t working out. I can’t do this any—”
But he butted in again. “I have to go. We have guests for brunch and everything is busy around here but I missed you so much I can’t not call. I miss hearing your voice, baby.”
“What? Wait—”
“I love you. I’ll be there when I can. Please, baby. Don’t do this.”
*What? No time even for a breakup?* Alia-voice was dripping with sarcasm.
“Brandon?!” I protested.
There were indeed noises that I could hear from somewhere far from him, as if it was shielded by a partially closed door.
Then there was a creak and a thud like a door was opened and it bumped into something.
And then someone called his name in irritation.
“Brandon...? Are you not ready yet? We can’t be late for the fitting appointment!”
A female voice.
Not his mom’s definitely, but younger. But he didn’t have a sister. He was an unico hijo.
“I gotta go,” Brandon abruptly said.
My jaws clenched in frustration. “Who is that?” I asked. The voice was demanding, like she had a right to demand from him. I hadn’t heard any of his female cousins use that tone on him.
I didn’t like it.
“What fitting? I thought you said you were leaving for god knows where-the-hell else?” I continued, and I wasn’t hiding my frustration now.
There was a minuscule pause as if he was shocked by a voice I had never used on him before. “J-Just my cousin. I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”
And then he was gone.
But not before I heard the sarcastic snort of the female voice with him on the other end of the line.
I stared at the screen of my phone after that, my emotions in turmoil.
He panicked when he realized I was going to break up with him. But more so when I asked him about who that woman was.
No way she was a cousin. I just knew it.
His panic-stricken voice when I wanted to break up with him wasn’t enough to cover how scared he was when I asked about the woman…
Was Brandon having an affair behind my back?

IT was the middle of the afternoon and I had just taken a bath when Alia informed me Gian was in the living room.
She also asked if she could leave for about an hour or so for her appointment with the dentist and that if Gian would just be for a little while she could ask Jeremy or Jason to stay with me until she came back.
“Alia, I’m not a three-year-old,” I protested.
“I’m worried. Jason is, also. He’s checked on you about four times since this morning. It’s for us, not for you, sweetie,” she told me sweetly. “I can ask Gian to stay longer.” And she left the door before I could say anything about that.
I was in a simple strapless house dress, really, to avoid any of my uncovered cuts getting scratched. But I put on a strapless bra before I came out to see him.
I mean, I knew he’d seen my breasts—
Please do not think about it when he’s just outside!
“I didn’t think you'd come back because it’s a Sunday. Checking on... me?”
I stopped and gaped at a Gian in ripped jeans, a white V-necked t-shirt, and sneakers.
*Sneakers.*
His hair wasn’t even combed smoothly, and soft curls were not in control, so it looked overgrown. He wasn’t wearing a jacket so I could see his muscled pecs, and he really looked… good.
Deliciously good. Yummy. Fresh enough to… eat.
Something flipped in my lower stomach and melted. And I realized that it had been happening too frequently now. Had I not been through this just last night, too, even though it felt like it’s been a decade ago?
*Shit.*
But then he was looking back at me, too, and I gulped a nervous moan as I saw his face slowly darken as his eyes traced every cut and bruise on my exposed skin.
The bruises happened to be riper today and I could imagine how I must look.
“They’re not as bad as they look,” I enthused a little nervously.
I almost jumped when his eyes went to my face like a whip.
It was obvious on his face we didn’t share the same sentiment. His eyebrows almost looped as those eyes saw my violet-ringed eye again.
“What about the wound in your head?” he asked in a voice that sounded very rough and painful.
“It’s barely hurting now as I’ve just had my pain meds—hey. Wh-what are you doing?”
He had gotten very near in just a few steps and I found myself being lifted and laid down on the sofa so fast I barely had time to squeak, and then he was parting the hair to check on it.
“Elise... damn it…”
“W-What is it?” I got scared, of course, since I couldn’t see that wound. It was bandaged last night and I wasn’t supposed to touch it until this afternoon. “Did it open? Is it bleeding?”
I was grateful they didn’t have to shave a lot of hair in the hospital last night so that I could still cover it with other strands when I went back to work, but if it had gotten worse…
“I swear I was very careful. I was supposed to ask Alia to help me change the bandage but I forgot when she said you’re here.”
“I’ll do it.”
“Did something happen to it?” I asked. “Did it get wet?” It was obvious I just took a bath and tried, dismally, to clean my hair.
“It’s still there but you’ve soaked the gauze and it looks terrible! Stay there.”
He went to the kitchen to get my meds and the first aid kit which was on the work surface, ready for my use, instead of in the bathroom where it regularly was.
And in the next few minutes, he cleaned, disinfected, and changed the bandage on my head wound.
It was one of those moments. I dared not make a single move.
“Is it done?” I asked quietly when his hands came down from my head, but I could still feel frustration fuming from him.
He didn’t reply, so I straightened and slid away from him a little. I felt a bit lost and I didn’t know why. Like I was out of bounds.
My heart was thudding a little faster and heavier than it should. I needed to get a little more distance between us.
The frustration and worry were on his face as he looked me over again. “You still look terrible,” he said the obvious.
“Cuts and bruises are never easy to the eyes, but you know what’s more terrible?” I asked.
I didn’t wait for his answer.
“It’s when I heard my mother crying over the phone after she’d learned her eldest daughter got beaten up while living away from her, and I wasn't even ready for the call.”
Suddenly, he was looking somewhere else.
“What the hell, Gian?!”