When we got home from the Sunny Hills papá called me to go to his library. Since our last talk, noong araw na bumalik ako ng Las Cosas, ay hindi na kami nakapag-usap pa. Not until now.
"You and that young Del Marcial are now engaged?" tanong ni papá sa akin.
He took off the cork from the bottle of whiskey and he poured the alcohol into a glass with ice.
"Sí, padre."
Dala dala ang kaniyang baso ng alak ay iginiya niya ako sa sofa.
"Deborah..."
"Papá."
Tiningnan ko ang mukha ng aking ama na nangungulubot na. He now got some white hairs. His face gained quite some wrinkles and his black orbs looks lonely as ever. Since mamá left us papá's eyes became lonely, nothing but lonely. Nawala na ang saya roon, nawala ang buhay. Na pati ang kilos at pananalita nito ay wala na ding kabuhay-
