After what felt like five decades in a Netflix drama, I stood up and made a run for the restroom. If I stay longer, may sasabog talaga. At baka ako ’yon.
Paglabas ko—
"Atty. Santiago."
Putcha. Jumpscare.
Nakatayo sa harap ko si Andrè, looking all serious and emotionally constipated. Akala mo may dadaluhing libing ng puso niya.
"W-Why?" I asked, trying not to sprint back to the ballroom.
"I know this isn't my place to ask… but are you seeing Atty. Cantavieja?"
Wow. Straight to the point. Walang appetizer, dessert agad.
I took a breath, channeled my inner composed queen. I didn't want to lie. I also didn't want him to think he had a chance.
"No," I said.
His shoulders relaxed like he just escaped an emotional hostage situation. But before he could get too comfortable, I added—
"Bu
