Pieces Of You

Chapter 2

Patricia

The following morning, I wake up feeling more exhausted than rested.

Kahit nakapikit ako halos buong gabi, pakiramdam ko wala naman talaga akong tulog.

I spent hours staring at the ceiling, replaying the same conversation with Jezreil over and over inside my head.

No matter how many times I think about it, my answer remains the same.

I can't marry him.

Not because he's a bad person.

Not because I don't love him.

But because the love I have for him has never been the kind that belongs in a marriage.

After taking a shower and getting dressed, I head downstairs for breakfast.

The familiar scent of coffee and toasted bread greets me the moment I enter the dining room.

Sunlight streams through the tall windows overlooking the garden, making the entire room feel warm and inviting.

Usually, I love mornings like this.

Today, however, there's a knot sitting heavily in my stomach.

Papa is seated at the head of the table with the morning paper in his hands while Mama quietly sips her coffee beside him.

Across from them are Tito Raymond and Tita Dianne.

And sitting beside the empty chair waiting for me is Jezreil.

The moment he sees me, he gives me a small smile.

I try to return it, but judging from the way he slightly winces, I probably fail.

Mukhang pareho kaming hindi nakatulog nang maayos.

"Good morning," he says.

"Morning."

I take my seat beside him and reach for the orange juice.

For the next few minutes, everyone talks as if nothing happened last night.

Papa discusses an upcoming meeting.

Tito Raymond talks about one of their projects.

Mama and Tita Dianne are busy discussing a charity gala scheduled next month.

Normally, I would have joined the conversation.

Today, I can barely focus.

My mind keeps drifting back to the same thought.

We need to tell them.

Beside me, I feel Jezreil place his fork down on the table.

When I glance at him, he looks back at me.

He doesn't say anything.

He doesn't have to.

We've known each other long enough to understand each other without words.

If we're going to do this, we need to do it now.

Before either of us loses the courage.

I slowly set my glass down and take a deep breath.

"Papa..."

The conversation immediately pauses.

Everyone turns toward me.

For a moment, I consider backing out.

But I know that staying silent won't make the problem disappear.

So instead, I straighten in my seat and gather what little courage I have left.

"There's something Jez and I need to talk to all of you about."

Papa folds the newspaper and places it beside his plate.

His expression remains calm, making it impossible to tell what he's thinking.

"Okay," he says. "What's wrong?"

I glance at Jezreil.

He gives me a small nod.

That simple gesture somehow makes this easier.

I release a slow breath.

Then finally say the words I've been carrying since yesterday.

"I don't think marrying each other is the right decision for us."

No one speaks immediately.

Mama looks surprised.

Tita Dianne blinks as if she wasn't expecting those words.

Tito Raymond leans back slightly in his chair.

But none of them look angry.

If anything, they look like they've been waiting for this conversation.

Beside me, Jezreil speaks before I can continue.

"I feel the same way."

I look down at my hands for a moment before turning back to my parents.

"Papa... Mama..."

My voice softens.

"All my life, kayo ang dahilan kung bakit mataas ang standards ko pagdating sa love."

The entire table grows quiet.

Because they know I'm telling the truth.

I grew up watching them choose each other every single day.

I grew up believing that love should be sincere.

That marriage should happen because two people genuinely want to spend the rest of their lives together.

"Kayo ang nagturo sa akin na hindi sapat ang status, hindi sapat ang pangalan, at hindi sapat na mabuting tao lang ang isang tao."

I swallow the lump forming in my throat.

"You taught me that love isn't about convenience. It's about sincerity."

My eyes meet theirs.

"So how can I marry someone I love as family... but not as the man I want to spend the rest of my life with?"

For several seconds, nobody speaks.

Not because they're angry.

But because they're carefully considering every word I've just said.

Papa remains quiet as he studies me from across the table.

The same way he does whenever he's trying to understand something important.

Then finally, he sets down his coffee cup.

"Anak," he says gently, "do you think your mother and I fell in love the moment we met?"

The question catches me off guard.

I blink.

"What?"

A small smile appears on Mama's lips.

Not amused.

More nostalgic than anything else.

"When I first met your father, I thought he was intimidating."

I immediately look at Papa.

"Really?"

Mama laughs softly.

"He barely smiled. He was always busy. And whenever he entered a room, everyone suddenly became nervous."

"That still happens," I mumble.

A few quiet chuckles spread around the table.

Even Papa shakes his head.

"But that's different," Mama continues. "The point is, I didn't fall in love with him overnight."

I frown.

"Then why did you marry him?"

This time, Papa answers.

"Because I respected her."

I stare at him.

He looks at Mama before continuing.

"I admired her character. I trusted her judgment. I enjoyed spending time with her."

His expression softens slightly.

"And somewhere along the way, respect turned into affection. Affection turned into love."

My chest tightens.

Because I know exactly what they're trying to say.

Mama reaches for my hand.

"We're not saying your story has to be the same as ours, anak."

"Then what are you saying?"

She squeezes my fingers gently.

"We're saying that love doesn't always begin the same way."

I glance at Jezreil.

He's listening just as carefully as I am.

"But that's the problem," I say quietly.

"Why?"

Because neither of them understands.

Or maybe they do.

But they're hoping we'll see things differently.

I take a deep breath.

"Because I already know Jezreil."

My voice comes out softer than I intend.

"I've known him almost my entire life."

I turn toward him briefly.

"He isn't a stranger I can slowly discover."

A faint smile tugs at the corner of Jezreil's mouth.

Probably because he knows exactly where this is going.

"I know how he acts when he's annoyed. I know what food he hates. I know which movies he secretly cries over."

"Hey."

I ignore him.

"I know when he's lying. I know when he's stressed. I know when he's pretending to be okay."

A few smiles appear around the table.

Because everyone knows it's true.

I look back at my parents.

"I know him so well that I can't imagine him as anything other than family."

The room grows quiet again.

Then beside me, Jezreil finally speaks.

"Tito, Tita... if I ever get married someday, I want it to be because I fell in love with that person."

His voice remains calm and steady.

"And I want the same thing for Patricia."

The words settle heavily over the table.

Because for the first time since this conversation started, both of us have said exactly what we're afraid of.

We don't want to hurt our families.

But we also don't want to spend the rest of our lives wondering what could have happened if we'd been allowed to choose for ourselves.