The Tradition (Completed)

The Stranger at My Table

A sudden tradition. A forced engagement. Two weeks to face a future she never chose.

SAM’S POV

What did Mary and I do? We went shopping, ate, and shopped again.

“Mary!” I called.

“Oh, what is it?” she answered, chewing.

“It’s already six— we have visitors tonight!” I blurted.

“Oh—what are you waiting for?!” she teased.

“I have to go! Bye!” I shouted, rushing out.

She just waved as I sprinted to the car.

OMG—nandiyan na sila.

Pag-uwi ko, dinala ko agad ang mga gamit sa kwarto at bumaba para magpaalam.

“Sorry, I’m late,” sabi ko, pilit na maayos ang sarili.

“That’s fine. By the way, Sam, sila ang Diaz family,” pagpapakilala ni Mom.

“Nice to meet you, Sam. Such a beautiful young lady,” sabi ni Mrs. Diaz, naka-ngiti nang maganda.

Wow, ang ganda ng compliment na 'yun!

“Nice meeting you rin po,” sabi ko, nagbitiw ng isang plastic smile dahil hindi naman kami close.

May kasama silang lalaki. Mukhang bodyguard ang dating—pero in fairness, gwapo siya para lang maging guard. Teka lang… bakit parang ang sungit niya? Halos magkadikit ang kilay niya.

“Let’s start our dinner,” sabi ni Mom.

Kaharap ko ngayon sa table yung lalaking may mukha ng anak ng haciendero — matigas, mataas, at malamig ang tingin.

Tsk.

“I think you already know our intention for coming here,” sabi ni Mr. Diaz nang seryoso.

“Of course, Mr. Diaz,” tugon ni Dad.

“We have to follow our tradition. The first grandson of the Diaz family and the last granddaughter of the Buenavista family must fulfill it,” dagdag pa ni Mr. Diaz.

I AM THE LAST GRANDDAUGHTER OF BUENAVISTA.

Wait—what tradition?

“Dad, about what tradition? Wait—what tradition?” tanong ko, nanginginig ang boses.

“By the way, anak, he’s Mr. Clyde Perfect Diaz — the first grandson of the Diaz family,” Mommy introduced, naka-ngiti nang pilit.

Hindi ako makapaniwala. Siya pala yun — ang anak ng Diaz family.

“Nice to meet you. By the way, I’m Samantha Yvonne Buenavista,” inalok ko ang kamay ko.

Ngunit tumango lang siya. Hindi man lang niya inabot ang kamay ko. Biro? Bastos?

“Dad, what tradition?!” paulit-ulit ko na, dahil bigla lang nag-iba ang usapan.

“You’re going to marry him,” sabi ni Mr. Diaz.

Ituon niya ang tingin kay Clyde — malamig, tahimik, at matigas.

“Wait—what?! I’m going to marry this—this man in front of me?” napasigaw ako.

“What did you say?” tanong niya, tumayo at nilapitan ako.

“I will not marry you! I’m just twenty-two years old at hindi ko pakakasalan ang kagaya mo!” sigaw ko—talagang nang-aasar na ang damdamin.

“Para sa information mo, Ms. Samantha Yvonne Buenavista, I’m not that old para pagsabihan mo ng ‘old man.’ Hindi mo nga alam ang age ko, pero kung gagawa ka ng judgement—FYI, I’m only 29 years old!—so better shut that mouth of yours.” napakalakas ng boses niya, nanginginig sa galit.

Aba, bastos ka talaga! Sisigaw-sigaw pa siya?

“WOW! 29 isn’t that old, huh? Malapit ka nang maging trenta! Samantalang ako hindi pa nakaka-lagpas ng bente-singko! Are you crazy?” waltz ng pride sa boses ko.

“What did you just say again, Ms. Sam?” mataas pa ang kilay niya. May tensyon na pumuno sa hangin. “Fine.” Huminga siya nang malalim.

“Mr. and Mrs. Buenavista, I have already made my decision. I WILL MARRY HER.” Itinuturo niya ang daliri niya sa akin, parang nag-claim ng bagay.

“What?!” Hindi ako makapaniwala.

“Okay. We have already made our decision,” sabi ni Mr. Diaz, malamig at definite.

Grabe—hindi pa nga nila kinukuha ang side ko.

“When is the wedding?” tanong ni Dad, na parang sumang-ayon agad.

“Two weeks from now,” sagot ni Mr. Diaz.

Agad-agad? Two weeks?

Tsk. I hate them.

“Excuse me, my decision isn’t important here right now, so I have to go,” paalam ko, tumayo at umalis papunta sa kwarto.

Hinampas ko ang sarili ko sa kama at kumandirit sa unan. Bakit ginagawa nila ’to sa akin? Do they even care what I want?

Tila bumulwak ang luha. Humagulgol ako nang malakas hanggang biglang pumasok si Mom at umupo sa tabi ko.

“Sam, are you okay?” tanong niya, nanginginig din ang tinig.

“Do you think I’ll be okay with what you did? Did you even think of me?” hinarap ko siya, umiiyak.

Biglang pumasok si Dad na may pagkadismaya sa mukha.

“Samantha! What have you done?! Pinahiya mo ang pamilya natin sa mga Diaz!” sigaw niya.

“Anong pinahiya? Hindi naman nabago yung plano niyo—diba? Ipapakasal niyo pa rin naman ako!” sagot ko, galit na galit.

“How dare you?!” galit na galaw niya. Halos magtaas ng kamay para sampalin ako, pero hinawakan siya ni Mom.

“Sige. Kausapin mo yang magaling mong anak. Remember this, Sam—we already have an agreement and that will never change,” sabi ni Mom bago umalis si Dad palabas ng kwarto.

“Mom…” humagulhol ako, mahina.

“Just deal with the marriage, but remember it’s not a game; it’s sacred. Even though you don’t want it, take it seriously,” paalala niya bago tuluyang umalis.

Naiwan akong gumuho sa kama, mag-isa sa biglaang balak na ipinataw sa akin.

Two weeks. It felt like a countdown — not to a wedding I wanted, but to the beginning of everything I feared losing: my voice, my choice, and whatever freedom I had left.