ANG MANYAKIS KONG BOSS [THAT MANYAKIS CEO SERIES 1] SPG🔞

CHAPTER 4

Crunch.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Ang sarap, besh. Ako pa rin ‘to, si Maurice Miranda, certified takaw-tingin na turned legit foodie tonight. I was living my best life at QingChun Foodhub, sinasalo ang bawat piraso ng sweet and sour pork na parang ako lang ang taong pinakakain sa buong mundo. ‘Yong tipong kahit si Heart Evangelista kung nasa tabi ko, sorry girl, ikaw na lang mag-picture, ako kakain.

Then boom. Walang ka-preparasyon, walang forewarning, walang trailer.

“We should break up,” sabing walang emosyon ni Clark Chavez habang naka-cross arms pa sa harap ko, parang siya pa ‘yong bida sa telenovela.

Natigil ang pagnguya ko. Literally. May isang pirasong pork pa ngang nakasabit sa fork ko eh. Nabigla ako, parang ‘yong utak ko kailangan muna ng software update bago ko ma-process ang sinabi niya.

“Ha?” tanong ko habang nanlalaki ang mata ko. “Nagjo-joke ka ba? Kasi kung joke ‘yan, punchline mo pangit, babagsak ka sa Showtime.”

Pero hindi siya natawa.

“I’m serious, Maurice,” sabi niya. “This... us... isn’t working. I realized, I have nothing to gain from this relationship.”

Biglang naging sobrang tahimik ‘yong lounge. Para bang kahit ‘yong mga golden dragon sa pader, napalunok sa hiya. Hindi ko alam kung anong naramdaman ko noong moment na ‘yon. Parang lahat ng kinain ko bumalik sa lalamunan ko, ready nang umakyat paakyat.

“I’m not the woman you dreamed of?” I repeated, voice trembling. “Akala ko ba... I thought you loved me.”

Clark leaned back on his seat, clearly too relaxed for someone destroying another person. “I wanted to. But you're not the kind of woman I see beside me in the future. You’re... a janitress, Maurice.”

Tangina. Ayan na. Sinabi niya na.

I felt my throat tighten, and my heart throbbed like it was being wrung dry. My insecurities—my being poor, my job, my apartment na siya nagbabayad—lahat ‘yon parang piniga niya ako ng direkta.

“So, ngayon lang naging issue ‘yong trabaho ko?” I asked, trying hard not to sound like I was about to cry. Pero halata na. My voice cracked, my hand trembled while holding the fork. “Ginamit mo ako? Nagtiis ako sa pagiging late mo, sa excuses mo, sa pagka-busy mo... dahil akala ko mahal mo ako.”

He shrugged. Shrugged! Like I was asking if gusto niya ng extra sauce at hindi ko lang alam na tinatapon na pala niya ang buong relasyon namin.

“Maurice, let’s be real. You beg for scraps. I belong to a world where people have standards. You’re just... not part of it.”

A tear fell. I didn’t even notice it at first. But then another one came. At another. And then I laughed.

“You know what’s funny?” I said, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand. “Akala ko hindi mo ako iiwan kahit na hindi ako kagaya ng mga babae sa paligid mo. Akala ko sapat na ‘yong pagmamahal ko sa’yo.”

Clark was silent. ‘Yong tipong tahimik ng mayabang. Parang hindi pa siya tapos mag-deliver ng final blow.

“You're beautiful, Maurice. Sexy, yes. But you're not someone I’d bring home to my family. You come from... nothing.”

Boom. That was it. The fatal shot. Na-trigger ako hindi lang dahil sa sinabi niya, kundi dahil totoo ‘yon—lahat ng insecurities ko, lahat ng kinakatakutan ko, binato niya sa mukha ko nang walang ka-filter-filter. He stripped me of every pride I had in myself.

So I stood up. At inabot ko sa kanya ang pinakamalutong na sampal na kaya ng palad kong mapawisan.

Pak!

He looked at me like he didn’t expect that. Well, surprise!

“Don’t you ever say na wala akong kwenta dahil lang sa trabaho ko,” I spat out, tears freely falling now. “Hindi mo alam ‘yong pinagdaanan ko para mabuhay, para makakain, para masuportahan ang pamilya ko. Just because you were born rich doesn’t make you better than me.”

I grabbed my bag, turned around, and walked away. I didn’t even care kung naiwan ko ‘yong chopsticks ko. I didn’t care kung may crab roe pa akong hindi nakain. I walked away, fast, dahil ‘pag tumagal pa ako doon, baka mahulog pa ako sa paawa mode at magmakaawa ulit. And girl, never again.

I stepped outside the restaurant. The night was cold. Not romantic cold. ‘Yong cold na parang sinasampal ka ng hangin na may kasamang judgment. I hugged myself as I walked further down the sidewalk, my heels clicking fast and angry on the pavement.

And then I cried. For real.

Not because iniwan ako ni Clark Chavez.

But because mawawalan na ako ng source of income. Shet! Siya pa naman ang nagbabayad ng apartment ko, ng kuryente, minsan pati grocery. Paano na ‘ko?

Lord, this is not funny. Hindi ako handa dito.

I sat down on a bench sa may tapat ng isang closed salon. Humigop ako ng hangin at pinunasan ang mukha ko gamit ang isang lumang tissue sa bag ko. Yes, besh. Luma. Kasi hindi ko afford ‘yong fancy wipes ngayon.

“Hindi ako talunan,” bulong ko sa sarili ko. “Na-una lang siya magtapon. Pero ako? Maghahanap ako ng bagong paraan.”

At that moment, I remembered something. ‘Yong pangarap kong magka-restaurant. ‘Yong mga beses na pinapangarap ko ‘yon habang naglilinis ng sahig sa Tripple B. Maybe this is it. Maybe losing Clark is step one sa glow-up ko.

Hinga.

Tapos tumayo ako.

I was about to cross the street. ‘Yong tipong medyo pabebe na lakad kasi may luha pa sa gilid ng mata ko, pero kailangan kalmado pa rin ang aura kasi baka may pogi na nanonood. Kaso wala naman. Life is unfair.

Ang mga ilaw sa paligid ay medyo malabo na sa paningin ko, partly dahil madilim na, partly dahil umiiyak ako kanina at hindi ko pa napupunasan nang maayos ‘yong eyeliner ko. Alam mo ‘yong feeling na parang sinaniban ka ng lahat ng kabiguan sa telenovela? Ganern.

Then vroom.

A sleek, black luxury car suddenly stopped beside me. Biglang lumiwanag ang paligid, parang bumaba si Lord o kaya ‘yong spotlight ng impyerno, depende sa mood. Napasinghap ako, napalingon pa. Akala ko guni-guni lang ng isang babaeng bagong break-up. Pero hindi. Totoo siya.

Pagkapatay ng headlights, a familiar voice called out from inside the car.

“Maurice Miranda.”

I froze.

Putek. Ayoko na.

I slowly turned. At ayun na nga—bumungad si Mr. Asungot himself. Mr. Forteros in the flesh, sa loob ng sobrang sosyal na sasakyan. Nakasuot pa ng dark blue coat, all crisp and rich-looking, parang inutang pa ang hangin na nilalanghap niya.

He stepped out a bit, arms crossed, with that signature CEO stare na parang kinukurot ang kaluluwa mo.

“Bakit ka nasa labas?” he asked, his voice deep, crisp, and laced with just the right amount of judgment to make a grown woman doubt all her life decisions. “At bakit mukha kang batang inagawan ng kendi?”

Ayun na nga. Game na game si kuya sa insulto.

I straightened up, pinunasan ‘yong luha na parang hindi galing sa isang emotional breakdown. “Napuling lang po ako. May dumaan kasing alikabok.”

He raised an eyebrow. The judgment in his eyes? Level one hundred. But he didn’t say anything. Umiling lang siya nang kaunti, then opened the door to the passenger seat.

“Sakay ka na. Ihahatid kita sa apartment mo.”

WHAT?

I blinked three times. “Po?”

He sighed like I was the most tiring human being on Earth. “Do you want a ride or not?”

I hesitated. Syempre gusto ko! Kaso may pride pa akong sinusubukang buuin, kahit crack na crack na siya kagaya ng screen ng Android phone ko. And this is Mr. Forteros, the man who barely even looks at me unless kailangan niya ng feedback kung malinis na ang floor.

“I can walk po. Exercise is good,” sabi ko, trying to smile through my emotional wreckage. “Besides, hindi po ako nakaligo nang bongga kanina. Baka masira leather seats niyo.”

“Maurice,” he said sternly. “Get in.”

And I swear, the way he said my name made me forget na I just got dumped. Parang naging obedient golden retriever ang katawan ko. Next thing I knew, nakaupo na ako sa loob ng kotse. Aircon palang, hug, besh. Niyakap ako ng yaman.

Tahimik siya habang nagda-drive. As in tahimik na tahimik. Ako naman, tinitingnan ‘yong dashboard, ‘yong malambot na seats, at ‘yong mga buttons na mukhang kahit isa lang d’yan pindutin ko, baka mag-transform ‘yong kotse at lumipad. Sosyal to the max.

Pero sa loob-loob ko, nahihiya ako. Kasi nga, I look like a mess. Ang makeup ko para nang sining na gawa ng preschooler, at baka amoy toyo na rin ako sa stress at pawis.

“I heard about what happened,” he suddenly said, not looking at me.

My shoulders tensed. Ayan na.

I tried to laugh. Palabiro style, para di obvious na triggered ako. “Naku sir, chismis lang ‘yon. Hindi po ako iniwan—mutual po ang breakup. As in... pareho kaming nagdesisyong hindi na kami... bet ng isa’t isa.” Kalokohan.

He glanced at me, then looked back at the road. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Aray. That hurts.

I looked down at my lap, twisting my fingers together. “Oh…I’m sorry po.”

He didn’t respond right away. Pero ‘yong silence niya ang pinaka-maingay. Nakaka-tense. Parang kahit hindi siya galit, ang bigat ng presence niya.

“You deserve better than a man who belittles your work.”

That made me look up.

Pero teka lang.

How did he know all of this!? E diba kakalabas ko lang sa restaurant!?

I blinked. “Did you just... compliment me?”

“I just stated a fact.”

I stared at him, trying to read his face. Pero hindi talaga siya nagpapabasa. Parang thesis na walang abstract—walang pasilip. But still, I felt it. ‘Yong concern. ‘Yong small spark of care na hindi ko inexpect from him of all people.

Pagkababa ko sa kotse, medyo lutang pa rin ako. Nakatingin ako sa apartment building namin na parang hindi ko kilala. Ilang beses ko na 'tong inuuwian pero tonight, parang ibang mundo siya. Maybe dahil sa bigat ng gabi... or maybe dahil ang naghatid sa akin ay ang pinaka-unlikely na tao—Mr. Forteros himself.

Bago pa man ako makatalikod para muling sumilip sa kanya at pasalamatan siya, biglang vroooom—umandar na agad ang sasakyan. Walang paalam. Walang wave. Walang glance.

"Uy, teka—" napabulong ako, habol ang tingin sa mga brake lights na pa-kurba na sa kanto.

Hindi man lang ako nakapag-thank you.

Napakamot ako sa batok, then slowly umakyat sa apartment. Pakiramdam ko parang isa akong contestant sa reality show na hindi inakala na matatanggal ngayong gabi. Yung tipong nagbigay ng best effort sa talent portion pero wala pa ring corona. Sad.

Pero habang paakyat ako, isa lang ang hindi ko maalis sa isip ko.

How did he know?

Paano nalaman ni Mr. Forteros na nakipaghiwalay sa akin si Clark? I never told anyone. No one knows about it, at lalong hindi naman 'yon usapan sa office, unless may CCTV sila sa QingChun Foodhub—which I doubt.

I reached the door of my unit, nakatunganga pa rin.

Was he just guessing? Or… is he watching me more closely than I thought?

Kinilabutan ako. Hindi ko alam kung matatakot ako o kikiligin. Pero one thing’s for sure—there’s more to Mr. Forteros than meets the eye.

And now? I want to know why.