Chapter 8 | The Plan
971 Words
Dante's POV
_I chose her over my job._
Saturday.
48 hours left.
We were short ₱2,150.
I stared at the ceiling at 5AM.
Mimi was asleep beside me, her small hand clutching my shirt.
Cassie was on the couch. Again.
She didn’t go home last night.
“Family shares,” Mimi had said yesterday.
So I guess… we were sharing the problem now.
I got up. Quiet.
Cassie opened one eye. Hair a mess.
“You’re up early, Chef.”
“Can’t sleep.”
“Me too.”
She sat up, pulling the blanket around her.
“What’s the plan?”
“We make one.”
She blinked. “You have one?”
“No. You do.”
She laughed. Tired.
“I sell flowers, Dante. That’s it.”
“Then we sell more.”
“How?”
I looked at her. Really looked.
Dark circles. Sunflower tattoo on her wrist. Exhausted, but still here.
“You’re loud, Cassie. Use it.”
She frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means we do a pop-up.”
“A what?”
“A pop-up flower stand. Today. Tomorrow. All day. Outside the wet market.
People buy flowers on Sundays. For church. For graves. For apologies.”
Cassie stared at me.
“You want to stand outside and yell again?”
“Yes.”
“For me?”
“For Mimi,” I said. My voice cracked. “And you.”
She didn’t say no.
---
By 7AM, we were at the wet market.
I borrowed a plastic table from Ate Nene.
12 sunflowers. That was all we had.
Cassie bought them wholesale at 4AM. ₱600.
Now we were short ₱2,750.
“Sunflowers! ₱150! Fresh!”
Cassie yelled.
Loud. Brave. Alive.
And damn, it worked.
People stopped.
“Ang ganda ng bulaklak!”
“Para kanino, ate?”
“Gwapo naman ng kasama mo ah.”
That last part. I hated it.
But it sold flowers.
By 11AM, we sold 8. ₱1,200.
Short ₱1,550.
Mimi sat on the table, swinging her legs. Holding up her drawing.
A big yellow sunflower. Under it, she wrote: _FAMILY._
An old lola stopped. Eyes red.
“Para sa asawa ko. Namatay last year.”
She bought 2. ₱300.
“God bless you, anak,” she told Mimi.
Mimi waved back with her whole hand.
At 1PM, my phone rang.
Hotel.
“Morales. Your shift.”
“I can’t,” I said.
“You can’t what?”
“I can’t come in.”
“Then you’re fired.”
_Click._
Cassie heard everything.
“Dante. You quit?”
“I didn’t quit,” I said. My hands were shaking.
“I chose.”
Her eyes went wide.
Short ₱1,550.
---
By 3PM, we were exhausted.
The sun was brutal. Mimi was hungry.
Cassie bought pandesal. ₱20.
We split it three ways.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For dragging you into this.”
“You didn’t,” I said.
“I walked in.”
She looked up at me.
“Why?”
“Because you didn’t leave when I told you to.”
Silence.
At 4PM, a man in a suit stopped. Expensive watch. Tired eyes.
“Are these your flowers?”
“Yes po,” Cassie said.
“How much for all?”
“All? 4 left.”
“₱600. I’ll take them.”
Cassie blinked. “Sir, ₱150 each lang. ₱600 total.”
“I know.”
He handed her ₱1,000. “Keep the change.”
“Why?”
“Because my daughter died 5 years ago,” he said softly.
“She loved sunflowers. And you reminded me of her.
Loud. Brave. Alive.”
He walked away.
Cassie held the money. ₱1,000.
Short ₱550.
---
We packed up at 5PM.
Mimi asleep on my shoulder.
Cassie carrying the empty bucket.
We walked home. Slow.
At the gate, Ate Nene stopped us.
“Anak, may naghahanap sayo. Cassie.”
“Who po?”
“Hotel sa Makati. May order daw. 20 dozen sunflowers. For a wedding. Monday.”
Cassie froze.
“Bayad po?” I asked.
“Half. Now. ₱12,000.”
Ate Nene handed me a brown envelope.
₱12,000.
Cassie didn’t move.
“Monday,” I said. “You can pay rent. And more.”
She looked at me. Tears falling.
“Dante.”
“What?”
“Why did you quit your job?”
“Because you needed me here more than they needed me there.”
She cried harder.
“Stop crying,” I said.
“Make me.”
I didn’t.
I just handed her the envelope.
“Rent is Monday,” I said.
“But you’re not alone on Monday.”
She nodded.
---
Upstairs. 4B.
I put Mimi to bed.
Cassie sat at my table, counting money. Again.
“₱2,250 + ₱1,000 + ₱12,000,” she whispered.
“₱15,250.”
She looked up.
“Dante. This is too much.”
“No,” I said. “This is enough.”
She stood. Walked to me.
“Dante Morales.”
“What?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not saying ‘go away’ today.”
I didn’t answer.
She stepped closer.
“Dante—”
The door opened.
Mimi. Half-asleep. Hair a mess.
“Ate Cass? Can you stay tonight too?”
Cassie looked at me.
I nodded. Once.
“Yes, baby,” Cassie said, voice soft.
“I’m staying.”
So she stayed.
On the couch. Again.
And for the first time in 3 years,
I didn’t sleep on the floor because I had to.
I slept on the floor because I wanted to be
two feet away from her.
_End of Chapter 8_
- Writer
