My parents separated when I was thirteen, and our father started a new life with his new partner, Tita Sherry. She wasn't the wicked stepmother in fairy tales, just not someone Kuya and I never felt at home with. So, as soon as we could afford it, we bought our own place. Mom eventually migrated to the US and filed the divorce from there.

They've each found happiness in their own way, and we've chosen to be happy for them, too.

But that's not the case for Derek. His parents stayed together until his Mom's death shortly after his university graduation. Within a few months, his father remarried. His older brother, Kuya Marcus, was understanding, but as far as I could recall... Derek struggled.

To be fair, the whole thing was scandalous. His new stepmom was eighteen years his father's junior and was his employee.

"Derek's my best friend. I couldn't not tell him about the available unit upstairs when he was hunting for a place," Kuya explains.

"Fine, gotcha," I sigh. "But he's... He hasn't changed. He's the same, old Derek."

Except hotter.

"What did you expect?"

"I expected him to grow up! The least he can do is not bring random girls home."

"What? He did that?" Kuya shakes his head in disbelief, rubbing his stubble. "Sorry, Sam. I'll talk to him. Just please don't be mad, alright? He's basically family."

I take a sharp breath, my frustration waning. If it weren't for Kuya Patrick's unwavering love for Ate Candice, I'd think he was in love with Derek himself. He always puts up with Derek's antics while unintentionally dragging me along.

"I know. It's the only reason why I tolerate him. How can the two of you be so different?" I mutter. "Whatever. I'm doing this for you."

"Try to get along with him. Please?"

I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. "I'll do my best to peacefully coexist with him. I can't promise anything more than that."

Kuya presses a palm to his heart. "That's all I need. Just don't kick him out."

Hesitant, I nod. "Okay, Kuya. But tell him to stop acting like a kid. We can't be like before. I'm not the same Sam he knew six years ago."

******

After catching up with Kuya, I spend the rest of the afternoon meeting with clients. Fatigued or not, I manage to close a deal with a couple in their sixties, so I'm heading south on Friday to visit their newly constructed vacation home.

Looking at my clients all lovey-dovey during the meeting gave me butterflies. Stirred up hope for a love that lasts. The thing is, children who become witnesses to their parents' separation tend to give up on the idea of a happily-ever-after. But not Kuya and I. If anything, it got us more determined to have the kind of family we didn't get to grow up with.

I drive straight home. The unit is dark and still when I walk in, and my chest loosens. It feels a little odd that my first move is to look for any sign of Derek.

Why am I being uncomfortable in my own home? Treat him like a guest, Sam. Or treat him like a boarder. Kuya mentioned that he's going to pay for his share anyway, so that should make things simpler.

I eat dinner by myself and take a quick shower before completely seeking refuge inside my room. I lie on my stomach, turn my laptop on, and start downloading new episodes of The Big Bang Theory. A few minutes later, one's ready to go. Just as I'm about to hit play, my tummy protests. Dang it! It hasn't been an hour.

Right. It's almost that time of the month.

I get up from bed against my will and sneak into the kitchen, grabbing some cookies and bottled water from the fridge. I slam it shut and carefully tiptoe back to my space.

I'm standing in front of my bedroom when I hear the front door opening, my eyes bulging as the sound of the click. Next thing I know, I'm inside, exhaling in relief.

Determined to dodge Derek the next morning, I creep from my room to the bathroom and back like a thief. Unfortunately, he's already lounging at the dining table when I step out, and the dining area's too close to the exit... So, I'm trapped.

Geez. This is crazy.

"Good morning," he greets, smiling, as he digs into his breakfast.

"Morning," I reply, straightening my back as I quickly glance at the food on the table. He's a set of utensils for me.

Uh... Okay.

"Sit. Have breakfast," he says, absorbed in a newspaper before him. I'm not gonna deny it, he appears like a functioning adult.

I hesitate at first, but hunger wins. I sit, avoiding brushing against him and suddenly regretting that we opted for minimalism. The table is way too small for my liking.

I carefully pour coffee into my cup and reach for some hotdogs and bread. I promised Kuya that I'd try my best to peacefully coexist with Derek, so this is me trying. And satiating my hunger with a decent breakfast.

"So, how was your sleep last night?" he asks.

"Pretty good."

"I heard you laughing. What were you watching?"

"Just this series... about scientists," I mutter, taking a bite of the hotdog and dodging eye contact.

"I see. I think I know that series. I used to watch that on Jack TV." He smiles, cocking his head to one side. "Anyway, do you have any plans? Care to join me for dinner?"

I pretend I don't hear him. What is he saying all of a sudden?

"I'll pick you up."

Alright. That's it.

"I have a lot of projects right now, so I'm busy," I say as politely as I can.

I didn't make any promise to develop friendly relations with Derek, and I'm not planning to start now.

He looks up at me with an exaggerated pout. "Please, Sam. I haven't eaten at the best restaurants here. I was gone for a long, long time. I need a city tour. Please?"

I gaze at him, and in a split second, I get a snapshot of what happened. How close we were. How his stare gave me goosebumps down my arms. How my heart stuttered.

The uneasiness etches its way back to my stomach... And I'm pissed again.

"Why don't you ask your friends? You were out last night with them."

"Well, they have this boring thing called a job."

"And I don't?"

I catch him staring, and his gaze falls on my shoulders, to my arms, to my hands. And now I want to crawl back under my sheets.

It's his usual stare! It shouldn't feel like this. It shouldn't feel like anything.

Trying to beat the stiffness of my body, I clear my throat and mutter, "Here's a thought: Why don't you get a job?"

"I will, I will," he mumbles lazily. Which I don't get because I'd thought he's more of the type to do something with his life, career-wise. "But for now, let's go out. It's my treat. We haven't really talked."

"In case you forgot, Derek," I say. "We don't talk. We shout at each other."

He rakes his fingers through his hair, smiling sheepishly. "But like you told Patrick, we're adults now. It should be different, right?"

Great. I dug my own grave when I spoke to Kuya. "He told you—?"

"Look, I can see that you have changed too, Sam... And I'm sorry for the first few nights. I was inconsiderate and out of line. I'm really sorry. Let me make it up to you."

I squint at him, trying to find any hint of insincerity.

"Please?"

His puppy eyes weaken my resolve. Why is he so damn irresistible? I shudder at the admission.

"I don't want to eat outside."

This time, he inches even closer. I swear it's taking so much willpower not to look away. "Alright, then. I'll order something, and we'll have dinner here. How does that sound?"

I let out a sigh of defeat. "You're not gonna stop, are you?"

And he winks at me, reveling in his victory.

******

I'm lost in a haze of distraction during the morning meeting, my thoughts scattered, with Derek's image constantly intruding. It's abnormal—his relentless presence that leaves me flustered. No matter how hard I try to dismiss these unwelcome thoughts, they resurface.

I'd begrudgingly accepted his strong charisma years ago. I just can't understand why he's suddenly so... appealing to me. More appealing than ever.

My heart sinks. Am I this lonely? Am I this desperate that somehow, my brother's best friend has turned prey to me?

"So, any questions? Suggestions?" Nina, our team leader, prompts, pulling me out of my disturbing thoughts. Barely.

"I've got one," I say, raising my hand. I need to concentrate on things that make sense to me. Like my job. And better marketing strategies.

"Yes, Sam?"

"I think we should start incorporating new trends that resonate with millennials or Generation Y. Right now, there's interest in investing in real estate, and their design preferences and priorities differ compared to most clients that we have now—"

I pause mid-speech because Clark, who's been with us for less than a year and is the nephew of someone in the management, interrupts me like he normally does to all the ladies he works with. "Yes, the youth are active in real estate now. They're big on minimalist living—"

"And they prefer smart homes. Most of them stay-at-home—"

"It's probably better if—"

"Can you let me finish? I'm not done talking," I snap, and Clark's jaw drops, obviously not used to getting called out.

Everyone is stunned, their eyes on me. Cathy covers her mouth to mute her laughter.

But Clark's been doing it since he started. Talking over us, the women. Stealing credit. It's long overdue, and I'm in no mood to be pushed around.

"Please continue, Sam," Nina says, an encouraging smile on her face.

So, I do.

Clark keeps his mouth shut for the rest of the meeting.

******

"Hey, Sam." Cathy walks to my cubicle, her tone upbeat.

"Oh hey, what's up?" I say without looking up, engrossed in hunting down the suppliers' contact details for the rest house.

"Nothing much. Just wanted to say kudos," she mutters, giggling. "He's been such a credit grabber. Love how you handled him. He probably thinks he gets a free pass because he's the nephew of the operations manager."

I click my tongue, arms folded against my chest. "I let it go not once, but twice. I'm not gonna do it again." I whisper, "Plus, he's done that to everybody! It was about time I reminded him of his place."

"Word. Thanks for speaking up on behalf of everyone."

I prop my head up with my fist, sighing, "I was just annoyed because he does it to all the ladies in the team. He even butts in when Nina speaks. Nina! His boss."

"Totally." Cathy nods. "Anyway, dinner later? There's a new ramen restaurant just around the corner."

I think about my plans with Derek. I didn't say yes, but I also didn't say no, so he'd take that as a yes. He's probably going to go ahead with his plans.

"Hey, you alright? Got something else planned?"

"Yes, I do. Sorry."

"Oh, it's fine," Cathy replies, leaning in. "On to the important topic. How's sharing the unit with Derek?"

"I thought you'd never ask." I pinch my lips. "It's alright. We don't really see each other often. I promised Kuya that I'd tolerate him somehow, so I try to be more... cordial."

"That's good," she says, smiling guiltily. "By the way, I'm sorry if we've made you feel uncomfortable. It's just Derek. All of us had a crush on him, you included, right?"

I can distinctly remember my friends blushing and squealing when I first introduced them to Derek, so yep.

I give a half-shrug. "Yes, yes. It's fine."

"No, I mean, we don't want you to be awkward around him. It's just fun thinking about it. Two adults sharing one space. What could go wrong?" She winks.

I snort. "Cut it out."

"Ha-ha. Just kidding, don't take it seriously! Anyway, I've gotta run. Need to finish some last-minute changes for a project. See ya." She waves her hand and sashays away.

"See ya." I swivel back to my screen.

Right. I shouldn't let what they're saying get into my head. This is Derek Crisanto. Period. Nothing else needs to be said.

The hours pass faster after I kick the thoughts out of my head. Now, I'm standing in front of our unit, wondering what he'd ordered for us. I clutch my hungry stomach. I'd eat anything he'd ordered at this rate.

I slowly enter the unit. It's dim, with the only light source the lampshade next to the sofa. Surprisingly, I see Derek right there, sitting on a blanket spread across the floor where the center table used to be. Before him: a plate of spaghetti, roasted chicken, and a bowl of salad. He holds a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other.

Okay...? I was not expecting this. I was expecting take-out boxes. Super casual dinner.

Not this.

"Right on time."

Ripped jeans and plain, V-neck white shirt. Of course, he had to wear whatever shows off his annoying torso. And biceps.

Crap. Alright. Let's step back a bit.

If I didn't know better, I'd think this was meant to be romantic. Hesitant, I take my shoes off and sit awkwardly in front of him. I'm glad I wore slacks today.

"The last time I was here, we had a dining table," I mutter dryly.

He dismisses my sarcasm with a wave. "Always be a surprise, Sam. Don't make everything predictable. Be a thrill." He pours red wine into a glass and hands it to me. I take a sip, a gentle burning sensation oozing in my throat. I consider his words, fighting the urge to agree.

"Thanks," I respond, setting the glass down. "But I meant it when I said I don't need your so-called lessons."

He pours himself a glass then he offers me a plate and some utensils. "Let's eat."

I grab slices of chicken and put some pasta onto my plate. The rich flavor of spaghetti melts on my tongue like a delightful gift. It's delicious, and I'm not saying this just because I'm starving.

As I'm busy devouring the chicken, I realize that Derek hasn't touched his food.

"Why aren't you eating? Please don't tell me you poisoned my food."

He tilts his head to one side, his lips curved upward. "I didn't. I'm not that evil."

"Really?"

He chuckles. "Really."

"You made this, right?" I ask, taking another bite.

"Yes. Decided to buy ingredients and do the cooking myself."

I suppress a smile. I didn't know he was a good cook.

He eats his greens and asks, "So, how's work?"

"Fine. Busy," I say. "There's this jerk who often interrupts when ladies talk, so I told him to shut up."

"Oh? What did you say?"

"I was suggesting something when he jumped in. Wanting to take credit. As usual. So, I basically asked him to let me finish talking," I grumble. "Ugh, I hate that guy."

Derek stares at me with a toothy grin.

"What?"

"I think that's cool."

"What's cool?"

"For you to speak up. I'm sorry you had to deal with that situation. You shouldn't have had to."

Whoa. Did not see that response coming again. I lower my eyes to my food. "Um, I can handle it. I don't care. I'm good at my job, and I've earned the right to be heard. I just hate thinking about how many women have to go through that."

Derek nods slowly. "I agree."

We continue eating in silence for a while. Then, out of nowhere, he asks, "By the way, just out of curiosity, why were you trying to avoid me?"

He caught me. Crap 2.0. He must've seen me last night before I was able to disappear completely.

Bad stomach! Bad reproductive organs!

"I wasn't," I lie, averting my gaze. "I was just busy. Swamped with a new project."

He narrows his eyes, sensing my evasion. "I know it's an adjustment having me here. You don't have to make excuses."

I flinch. "I'm not!"

I'm not going to admit anything. I'll never confess that he's affecting me in any way.

"I'm just really busy. In fact, I'm heading to Tagaytay on Friday. For work. People need to get their properties designed, you know?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Are you going with anyone?"

I shake my head. "Nah."

"Want me to go with you?"