The Problem with Enzo

Chapter 6: Steak, Salt, and Soft Claims

Hers...

▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• Can’t Take My Eyes Off You by Lauryn Hill version

They gathered on the bench just past the archway, shaded by bougainvillea vines that fluttered lazily in the breeze. The Temple of Leah loomed behind them—majestic and oddly cinematic—but Ana was far too busy dying a slow, theatrical death to appreciate the view.

Micah, Ashley, Chris, Matt, Enzo, and Ana sat in a loose circle, catching their breath after all the walking and posing. Clarisse and Brent had taken Lia to scout for souvenirs and buy snacks. It should have been peaceful. Calming. One of those vacation moments people posted with #goodvibes.

But no.

Instead, Chris had his phone on speaker, replaying her voice through Google Translate—clear as day:

“Natatae na po ako… gwapo… nililigawan ko pa lang… sayang, afam eh.”

They were in hysterics.

Chris was wheezing, clutching his chest, holding his phone up like he’d just captured a UFO sighting. Matt had practically doubled over, pounding Enzo’s shoulder like they’d stumbled into Netflix’s comedy special of the year. Even Enzo—even Enzo—was laughing, calm and low, like a man watching a slow-motion train wreck he was enjoying far too much.

Micah was laughing too, though she rubbed small, pitying circles on Ana’s back, the universal gesture for rest in peace, bestie.

Ashley leaned in and whispered, “Honestly, it was genius. I would’ve pretended to be pregnant if it meant we’d skip that traffic.”

Ana groaned, elbows on her knees, burying her face in both palms. “I’m going to evaporate. Just right here. Let the sun absorb me. Goodbye, cruel world.”

“You can’t,” Matt snorted between chuckles. “You’re the designated driver. You still have to bring us back.”

Chris was wiping tears now. “Sayang afam eh! Kuya, maawa ka naman sa’kin,” he mimicked in an over-the-top dramatic voice, clutching an imaginary steering wheel. “Anaaaa, Oscar-worthy!”

Ana peeked through her fingers, aiming a glare at Chris but catching Enzo instead. He hadn’t stopped smiling. Not mocking. Just… amused. And somehow that was infinitely worse.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” she muttered, still half-buried in shame.

Enzo tilted his head, voice smooth, teasing. “Too late now. And for the record… at least you find me gwapo.”

“Enzo,” she warned, but it came out weak—more like a squeak than a threat.

He leaned in ever so slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make the group lean closer too. “And hey, if you’re already saying nililigawan mo pa lang ako… I just want you to know—I’m not hard to court. Actually…” He let the pause stretch, milking every millisecond. “…I don’t think I’d make it hard for you at all.”

And then—the wink.

The air left Ana’s lungs.

Micah gasped like she was witnessing a marriage proposal. Ashley’s jaw dropped so far it could’ve caught butterflies. Chris and Matt howled like hyenas, falling against each other for support. Somewhere behind them, a tourist actually turned to look, probably wondering what telenovela episode they’d just walked into.

Ana sat back, wide-eyed and wordless, her brain somewhere between faint and throw self into nearest fountain.

This man. This afam. This gwapo.

If she wasn’t already done for before, she was officially, spectacularly ruined now.

Hers..

▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• Kiss Me More – Doja Cat ft. SZA

They finally pulled into the hotel driveway, the last streaks of gold melting behind the hills of Cebu. The van eased into the parking bay with a soft purr, and the moment the engine went quiet, the cabin filled with the sound of yawns, stretching limbs, and exaggerated groans about sore feet.

Ana’s own exhaustion felt different. Not just physical—the kind that comes from hours of driving, sightseeing, and hauling everyone’s shopping bags—but mental, too. Like her body was ready to collapse, but her mind… her mind wouldn’t stop running.

They’d stopped at several places on the way back—overlooks, street vendors, even a small chapel Micah had begged them to visit “for the vibes.” Each stop had been worth it, but the trip had stretched longer than planned, and Ana could feel the weight of it in her shoulders.

Yet even as she fought the fog of fatigue, she kept noticing it.

Enzo.

Not in a loud, attention-demanding way. He wasn’t the kind of man who announced himself with grand gestures. He moved quietly, in the background, and yet somehow… her eyes kept finding him.

Especially when it came to Lia.

Whenever Ana walked ahead with Ashley—partly to keep her boss company, partly to steal a little breathing room—Enzo would instinctively hang back with Lia. Not because anyone asked him to. He just did.

And he didn’t treat it like a chore, either. No distracted nods, no fake enthusiasm. He actually talked to Lia. Listened. Made her laugh. At one point, Ana caught sight of them from a distance at a koi pond. Enzo had crouched beside Lia, his arm resting on one knee, showing her how to toss the pellets in so the fish swarmed without splashing too much. Lia’s laughter carried over the water, bright and unguarded.

Later, at a street vendor, Ana heard him ask her, quiet and matter-of-fact, “Do you have any allergies?” before ordering snacks for everyone. No one else even thought to ask that.

And over dinner…

Lia had been battling a stubborn steak with a her knife, her hands slipping. Ana’s instinct kicked in—she was already halfway to reaching across the table to help—

But before she could, Enzo was already there.

He didn’t say a word at first, just took the plate with a calm, steady movement and began slicing the meat into neat, bite-sized pieces. His hands were sure, his pace unhurried.

When he glanced at her, his voice was low, warm, and just a shade teasing.

“I’ll do it. You just eat, Ana,” he said. “You need the energy. Driving that huge van all day? Not easy.”

For a moment, Ana forgot how to respond. Not because she didn’t appreciate it—but because she did.

Because he noticed.

Before she could recover, Chris’s voice cut through the table. “Oooohhh… will you look at that! Enzo’s basically auditioning for Boyfriend of the Year.”

Matt fanned himself dramatically. “Unbelievable. Meanwhile, I’ve been here all night and no one has even passed me the salt.”

Micah leaned forward with a smirk, eyes darting between Ana and Enzo. “This feels like we’re watching a rom-com in real life. Someone cue the background music.”

Ana gave them all a flat look, which only made the smirks grow.

Then Clarisse, with the flair of a soap opera actress, turned to Brent. “Sweetheart, I’m jealous. Please cut my food too.”

Brent stared at her, unimpressed, but still reached for her plate. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered.

She batted her lashes as he sliced her steak. “Thank you, darling. Now we’re just like them.”

Ana’s fork froze halfway to her mouth. “We are not—”

But Enzo, the traitor, leaned back casually, the corner of his mouth curving. “Like what, Ana?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t start.”

“Start what?” His voice was pure innocence, but his gaze was fixed on her like he was enjoying every second of this. “I’m just making sure you’re taken care of. Can’t have my driver collapsing tomorrow.”

Micah gasped. “My driver? Oh wow, that’s basically a claim.”

Matt elbowed Chris. “That’s the rom-com equivalent of calling her ‘mine.’”

Ana let out a groan, covering her face with one hand. “I officially hate all of you.”

Across the table, Enzo was still smiling—softer now, but with that same glint in his eyes that made her chest feel just a little too tight.

Dinner had somehow turned into a battlefield… and she was losing spectacularly.