The Lie Hidden In White

Chapter 2

HANDKERCHIEF

As soon as I sat down at my desk in the office, I felt like a candle melting away.

My head was pounding like a hammer, and the sunlight streaming from the window only worsened the heat on my skin and most of all, my hangover.

I coughed against the desk.

God! I just wanted to lie down again.

It didn't help either that Dexter came home at five in the morning. So by the time I left the unit, he was still asleep. Not even a text or a call last night.

Haist!

The truth is, there's still this uneasiness in my chest I can't shake off. But I don't want to think about that yet. Not now. Not while the world feels like it's spinning from this dizziness.

I was lost in my little drama when a hot cup of coffee landed in front of me.

"Oh, coffee," I muttered, quickly taking it. I looked up at the woman who gave it to me and her face powdered white like rice cake again.

My best friend, Ryzi Montalban.

"What a damn makeup," I couldn't help but comment. "By the way, thanks for the coffee." I lifted the cup and took a sip, letting out a soft moan. "Ugh. Heaven. I swear, this just cured my headache."

"What happened to you? Why do you look so wasted?" she asked, sitting across from me while sipping her own coffee.

"I just drank last night," I admitted.

"Who were you with?" she pressed, suspicion lacing her brows.

"My cousin. She just got back from the States, so we had a little get-together," I explained, lifting the cup again.

She leaned forward, clearly unconvinced. "And you thought it was a good idea to get drunk? Knowing you had work today?"

"It wasn't that bad," I mumbled defensively.

"Awiet, you deserve a smack," she scolded.

"Awiet too, give me more coffee," I teased, realizing too late that my cup was already empty.

"i***t. You'll end up jittery," she nagged.

Just then—blag!

Another cup of coffee slammed onto the table, making both of us jump.

"There. Your coffee," came a curt voice.

I looked up. Our ever-grumpy friend-s***h-caffeine supplier.

Alastair Saviano Falcutillan.

I glanced at the cup he'd unceremoniously dropped and saw it was from Starbucks. And not just that, it was a large one. My heart practically turned into hearts in my eyes.

Hehe.

"Are you mad, Alastair?" I asked as I grabbed the cup from the tray.

"No!" he barked, making me frown. He then stormed off to his desk which just happened to be right beside mine.

"He's hot-headed today," Ryzi whispered.

"Maybe he's on his period. Pfft!" we giggled.

"I can hear you two," Alastair said seriously.

"Sorry, Engr. God bless," I quipped before sipping the coffee.

"Tss," he muttered, shaking his head.

Ryzi chuckled. "You two are too cute. You'd make a great couple."

"Hey! Don't start, girl. I'm getting married next month," I blurted and instantly regretted it.

"Wait—what? Are you serious?" she gasped.

I gave her a sheepish peace sign and slowly nodded.

"No cursing," Alastair chimed in, but Ryzi was too stunned to notice him.

"You b***h! You didn't even tell me? I'm so mad!" she swatted my arm lightly.

"Sorry…" I pouted at her.

"I'm your freaking best friend and I don't even know this? I hate you! Swear!" she yelled, making me cover my ears. Luckily, the office wasn't full yet. It was still before nine.

"Hey!" Alastair barked again. I couldn't help but laugh at the two of them.

"Sorry, Al. It's this friend of ours who doesn't know how to inform," she glared at me. Hehe.

I tried to hide behind my cup. "Well… Al knows."

Ryzi turned to him, stunned. "You knew?"

He nodded smugly. "For a while now."

"Wait—don't tell me… he's the one you're marrying?" Ryzi gasped.

I nearly spat out my coffee. "Ew! No! Do you see us dating? Besides, I'm the farthest thing from his ideal girl." He glared at me, but I just stuck my tongue out.

"Oh, she cursed. Why didn't you scold her?" Ryzi challenged.

"When have you two ever listened to me?" he sighed in defeat.

"Bias!" she accused.

"Hahaha, sorry, Al," I giggled.

"So who's this guy?" my best friend pressed again.

"Remember the guy I once pointed out to you?" I asked while sipping.

"Which one? You point out so many," she teased with a grin.

"Not that many! The baseball player from our school before. The catcher I had a crush on?"

"Oh em gee, you ended up with him?" her eyes widened. It was hilarious since her eyes were naturally small.

"Not only did we end up together, he's the man I'm marrying," I said proudly.

"What's his name again?" she asked, smiling.

"Dexter. Dexter Wisken." I answered with a grin.

That's when she accidentally dropped her cup.

"D-Dexter?" she stammered, pale.

"Yeah. Why? Do you know him?" I asked nervously.

"N-No. H-Hehe." she stuttered, avoiding my gaze.

"Are you sure?" I pressed, uneasy at her reaction.

"Y-Yeah. Actually, it's the first time I've heard his name," she said, stammering but never meeting my eyes.

I didn't believe her, but I let it go. "Okay."

"I-I'll go back to my desk now," she said hurriedly.

"Yeah. Sure." I let her.

I massaged my aching head as I watched her retreat.

'Is there something going on between Ryzi and Dexter?' I whispered to myself.

"Hey, you okay?" Al asked with concern.

"Yeah," I replied while rubbing my temple. "What's her problem? Do you know?"

He shrugged. "How would I?"

"She was acting so weird."

"Maybe it's just your hangover making you paranoid," he reminded.

"Maybe." I agreed.

He pulled something from his drawer.

"Here. Advil."

"Thanks." I took it immediately.

"You're welcome. By the way, where are you having lunch?" he asked. My stomach growled at the mention.

"Jollibee! I'm craving Chickenjoy," I said excitedly.

"Same," he said and my ears perked up.

I smirked devilishly. "Then let's eat together."

"Sure." he agreed easily, making me grin even wider.

"Great! You're paying," I teased.

"Suddenly, I'm not hungry anymore," he muttered, earning a punch on the arm from me.

"Cheapskate," I scolded, but he just laughed.

Work had already started, so we didn't get the chance to talk again. Hours slipped by without us noticing, and before we knew it, it was already lunch.

We clocked out, and as usual, the elevator ride was filled with that awkward small talk between officemates who weren't exactly friends but weren't strangers either.

I stood beside Alastair, quietly sipping the last of my second coffee while trying to ignore the flutters in my chest not because of Alastair, of course, but because of the awkward tension Ryzi had left behind.

I still couldn't stop thinking about her reaction earlier.

We stepped out of the building and walked side by side into the humid noon air. It was the kind of heat that clung to your skin like guilt. I pulled my ID off my neck and fanned my face.

"Chickenjoy better be worth walking in this heat," I muttered.

"Anything is worth Chickenjoy," Alastair replied, already speed-walking toward the nearest Jollibee like a man on a mission.

I laughed.

The second we walked in, the familiar scent of gravy, crispy chicken, and sweet spaghetti hit me. I closed my eyes and sighed like I'd just walked into church.

"This," I declared dramatically, "is what salvation smells like."

"Two-piece Chickenjoy. Spicy. With extra rice," Al said to the cashier before I could even open my mouth.

"Uhm… same," I added quickly. "And Coke. For my soul."

"Mine's pineapple juice," he told the cashier.

We paid or rather, he paid. After that, I settled into a seat near the window.

"Here you go," he said, placing my order on the table.

"Yay! Thanks, Al," I said gratefully. Finally, I got a free meal from him again.

"Don't mention it." Then he gave me a small smile.

He sat down, and I immediately dug into my food.

I knew he couldn't resist treating me. Hahaha! That's why I treasure him as a friend. We never had romantic feelings for each other, because for us—for me—our friendship mattered more. And besides, he's one of the people I never want to lose, so as much as possible, I try not to do anything that could ruin what we have.

While I was happily enjoying my food, I suddenly glanced at Al. For some reason, I laughed when I caught him eating while staring blankly, like he was lost in thought.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked, annoyed. So he noticed.

"It's just funny seeing you like that. You look like someone grieving. What are you thinking so deeply about?" I teased.

"I was thinking about you," he said casually, as if it were nothing.

"M-Me? Why?" I stammered.

"Nothing. You're just nice to think about." He smirked.

"You've lost your mind. You should get yourself checked. You're starting to sound crazy," I shot back.

"Yeah, I feel like I'm losing it…" he said, pausing. "…losing it over a woman who's about to marry someone else. I can't help but feel hurt."

I froze.

His pale blue eyes locked on mine, and I didn't know how to respond to what he'd just said.

I set down my utensils and tapped his arm.

"Just move on," I began. "Whoever that woman is, she'll only realize your worth when you're no longer in her life. Don't revolve your world around someone who can't match the love you give, because the right person will find you."

He brushed my hand away. Not roughly, but not gently either.

"You're really dense," he said coldly. My brows furrowed.

Who the hell was he talking about and why did it feel like he was angry at me?

"What?" I asked, baffled.

"Nothing," he said simply and went back to his food.

"Tsk! I was just comforting you. Don't worry, she's the one losing out. She didn't value you or love you," I added before taking another bite.

"Say that to yourself," he muttered.

"Huh?" I asked, now completely confused.

"Nothing," he repeated.

"What are you even saying, Al? Do you have a hangover or something?" I was truly confused by his words.

"Hangover? Why would I have a hangover?" he asked, brows furrowed.

"Didn't you guys have a party last night?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?" His response made me frown. I took a sip of water before facing him again.

Alastair works at two companies. I don't know how he pulled that off or why both managements allowed it, but from Monday to Wednesday, he's at ASN Architectural Group, and from Thursday to Saturday, he works at Al Pacia Civil & Structural, that's why he sometimes ends up working with Dex.

He's not a contractual in either company, but honestly, I still can't figure out how he managed that kind of setup.

"Dexter said your boss organized a party at your place. Weren't you there?" I asked nervously.

"Crazy! That was last week." He flicked my forehead.

"What?" I said in disbelief.

"Yeah. And I didn't even attend that party because I was finishing a blueprint."

We stared at each other for a moment, as if the same thought struck us both.

"Meaning he—"

"He lied to you," he cut me off.

"N-No…" I stammered, shaking my head.

Dexter wouldn't do that to me. He couldn't.

"What exactly did he tell you?" Al asked, his voice laced with both concern and curiosity.

"He said he was going to their family house, then later that night there was a party your boss organized and he'd be attending. I thought you'd be with him, so I didn't worry anymore."

"No. I was at my condo last night."

"Damn it!" I burst out in frustration, earning glances from the table beside us.

"Hey, relax. Maybe he was just partying with his friends."

"Why would he need to lie to me when he knows I'd let him go anyway?" I snapped.

"I don't know. I don't know his reason. Haven't you noticed anything strange about him or the way he's been acting?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, frowning.

"Something suspicious. Like that."

"Hmm… nothing really, except that he always goes out at night…"

"Then you'd better start finding out. You're about to get married. It's better to be sure you're the only woman in his life," he said bluntly.

"Hey! Don't talk like that." This time, I flicked his forehead.

"I'm just stating the fact, Autumn." His voice was calm, but the weight of his words pressed down on me.

I fell silent. Why did it feel like my chest was tightening? Why was this uneasy feeling creeping in now?

"All right." That was all I could manage before we quietly finished our lunch.

After we finished eating, we walked out of Jollibee. There was silence between us. Not the awkward kind, but the kind that comes when both people are quietly processing something; words felt unnecessary.

"You wanna walk around a bit?" Al asked, glancing at his watch. "We've still got a few minutes before heading back to the office."

I nodded. I wasn't ready to go back and stare at my computer like nothing had happened.

We strolled to a small mini-park beside the building. A few employees were scattered about, enjoying the breeze. We picked a bench tucked slightly away from the crowd.

For a while we just sat there, watching the trees sway.

Then Al spoke. "You okay?"

A simple question, but it landed hard in my chest. He wasn't the type to ask that often, and when he did, you felt the sincerity.

After what he told me earlier, did he really think I was okay?

I took a deep breath.

"I don't know," I said, staring into space. "It's like… part of me still wants to trust. But there's this other voice inside me that won't shut up."

He said nothing. He just sat there and let me talk. That's when I appreciated how comforting it is to have someone who listens without needing explanations.

"Last night he said he was going to his family's house. Then later he said there was a party our boss organized, and that you'd be there too. So I didn't question it. I trusted him."

We looked at each other. He didn't have to say anything. His eyes already carried a weight I couldn't name.

"But he lied," I added. "And I don't get why he had to. He knows I would've let him go. I've always tried to be understanding, Al."

"Maybe it's not about you," he said gently, watching the falling leaves. "Sometimes people do things even when they're with someone good. When they've got something to hide… they still make excuses."

I looked at him.

"Do you think he has someone else?" I asked outright.

He didn't answer immediately. I could see him weighing his words.

"I don't know," he finally said. "And I don't want to feed your doubts. But if you've noticed things that don't feel right, don't ignore them. Sometimes your gut is the first to tell the truth."

I lowered my head.

"Al, what if I'm wrong? What if I'm just paranoid and I'm destroying the trust we built together?"

"That's possible… maybe you're hurting because you're unsure. But Autumn," he met my eyes, "it might hurt more if you stay quiet now, only to find out later the wound was deeper than you thought."

"I'll take that advice," I said softly. "Thank you."

He smiled. "It's nothing."

In that moment I realized how rare it is to have someone you don't have to be strong in front of.

The entire day felt like I was moving through fog. I went about my tasks like a machine. Nodding when needed, smiling when expected but my mind was elsewhere. I watched every hour crawl by until finally, it was time to go home.

As I stepped inside our unit, I saw Dexter crouched by the couch, tying his shoes. He looked freshly showered, already prepared to head out again.

"Hey, honey," he greeted when he noticed me.

"Hi," I replied, forcing myself to act normal so he wouldn't sense the unease weighing on me.

He stood and walked toward me.

"I'm heading out," he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I already prepared everything including your dinner," he added with a smile.

"Uhmm… where are you going?" I asked, hesitation slipping into my voice.

"Home. Mom needs my help choosing the fabrics and clothes we'll be using for the wedding."

I studied his eyes, but he looked away too quickly too deliberately. My stomach twisted.

At first glance, his reason sounded plausible. But something about it didn't sit right with me. It was too… convenient. Besides, choosing wedding fabrics could easily be done over the weekend. Not late at night. Not when he already seemed like he was rushing to leave.

"Can't it wait until tomorrow? It's already late. The roads are dangerous at this hour," I said carefully, watching for his reaction.

"Trust your man, honey," he replied with a reassuring smile, placing his palm over his chest in mock sincerity. "I'll get home safe."

"But—" I tried to stop him, but he spoke again too quickly.

"Come on, honey. Please," he said, even giving me puppy eyes.

I stared at him for a moment longer, weighing his words against my intuition. In the end, I let out a quiet sigh, knowing I wouldn't get anything more from him tonight.

"Okay," was all I managed to say.

"Thank you," he answered.

"Mmm," I mumbled with a nod, masking the heaviness growing in my chest.

"I might not be home until tomorrow. Don't wait up, okay? Lock the doors."

"I will."

"Love you." He kissed my forehead again.

"I love you too," I replied, though the words came out less certain than before.

And then he was gone.

I stood by the door, watching the shape of his back slowly fade down the hallway. He didn't look back.

And maybe that was the part that hurt the most.

His steps was once familiar and comforting but now... felt heavy and distant, as if each one echoed the widening space between us.

Who are you now, Dexter? Where did the man I fell in love with go? Because lately, I can't recognize you anymore.

And as much as I wanted to deny it, something inside me had begun to whisper what I'd been too afraid to admit.

I'm sorry, Dex, but I'm starting to suspect you.

I closed the door gently, the soft click sounding louder than expected in the stillness of the room.

I turned toward the kitchen, ready to heat up the dinner he'd left for me. But as I passed the coat rack, I froze.

My gaze landed on his jacket. The one he always wore for late-night errands.

I don't know what came over me, but my hand reached for it on its own. I brought it close, curiosity and dread twisting in my stomach.

And then I smelled it.

A faint scent that didn't belong to me. A perfume I didn't own.

A sharp pinch seized my chest as I checked the inner pocket. My breath hitched.

A handkerchief.

Neatly folded. Pristine white, with fine gold embroidery along the edge. Not his. Not mine.

I turned it over, my fingers trembling.

R.Y.



At first, I told myself it could belong to anyone. A coincidence. A stranger. But the longer I stared at those gold-threaded initials, the deeper an unease coiled inside me.

And then it struck me.

My heart skipped.

No.

No, it couldn't be—

But I knew this design.

The tiny floral stitching in the corner. The elegant golden thread. The linen's texture. I had seen and touched this exact style before.

Ryzi.

All of Ryzi's handkerchiefs were custom-made. She once even bragged about it on how she never used anything generic because "a woman's scent should match her style, even in her tears."

I laughed at her then. But I wasn't laughing now.

I pressed the cloth closer to my face. The scent hit me instantly familiar, too familiar.

It was her perfume.

The very same fragrance I teased her about almost every morning. Sweet. Powdery. Like crushed roses and vanilla. The scent that lingered on me every time she hugged me.

The handkerchief slipped from my fingers.

R.Y. Ryzi Montalban. My best friend.

My throat tightened. My breath caught between disbelief and denial.

What was her handkerchief doing in Dexter's coat pocket?

I sank onto the edge of the couch, my legs weak as my thoughts ran wild.

Maybe there was an explanation. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe she lent it to someone. Maybe—

But how could I not recognize something so uniquely hers?

No. This wasn't just some random piece of cloth. This was hers. And if this was hers, then… what else had she left behind that I hadn't noticed?

I picked it up again, staring at the embroidered initials, my hands trembling harder now.

My mind raced through possibilities I didn't want to face.

Was I about to marry a man who could lie to me with someone I trusted the most?

I didn't want to believe it. But tonight, the truth didn't smell like fear anymore.

It smelled like perfume. And betrayal.