Chapter 22: The Lie That Grew Teeth
1618 Words
Gabriel did not stay away.
Unfortunately—
stubbornness had always been one of his least attractive virtues.
Three days passed after the garden confrontation.
Three painfully disciplined, increasingly frustrating days.
And Lola remained consistent.
Which somehow made everything worse.
She avoided him with frightening efficiency.
Breakfast schedules changed mysteriously.
Meetings became delegated.
If Gabriel entered the library—
Lola had already left.
If he visited the eastern fields—
she was suddenly inspecting warehouses.
It would have been impressive if it were not infuriating.
Bella noticed immediately.
And approved.
“He deserves suffering,” she declared one afternoon while helping Lola organize documents.
“That sounds dramatic.”
“I’m protecting women’s rights.”
Lola almost smiled.
The estate office overlooked wide fields silvered by afternoon sunlight.
Paperwork covered the desk.
Comforting.
Predictable.
Unlike emotions.
Bella leaned against the cabinet.
“You really told him to stay away?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He ignored the spirit of the instruction.”
Bella snorted.
“Monteverde blood.”
Lola continued reviewing reports.
But privately—
she felt tired.
Avoidance should have brought relief.
Instead—
it brought awareness.
She noticed his absence too easily.
Annoying.
Very annoying.
Worse—
she remembered his expression after her lie.
I’m planning to give Matteo a chance.
The words had wounded him.
She had seen it.
And though part of her insisted he deserved discomfort—
another quieter part felt uneasy.
Because she had lied deliberately.
Not for manipulation.
For distance.
Still—
lies rarely stayed harmless.
Bella interrupted her thoughts.
“You know what bothers me?”
“That sentence sounds dangerous.”
“You care enough to avoid him carefully.”
Lola looked up.
“I care about peace.”
Bella narrowed her eyes.
“Mhm.”
The conversation ended when a knock sounded.
The office assistant entered.
“Ma’am Lola?”
“Yes?”
“Mr. Arrieta is downstairs.”
Ah.
Matteo.
Interesting timing.
Bella smiled like disaster.
“I support this.”
“You support chaos.”
“Sometimes they overlap.”
Lola sighed and stood.
Perhaps coffee and uncomplicated conversation would help.
Unfortunately—
nothing involving Gabriel Monteverde remained uncomplicated anymore.
Downstairs, Matteo waited near the western veranda holding coffee and suspiciously good manners.
“You appear frequently.”
“I was told persistence builds character.”
“It also builds suspicion.”
He laughed.
“I brought peace offerings.”
Coffee.
And mango bread.
Of course.
Lola accepted the cup.
“You spoil people.”
“Selective investment.”
The breeze moved gently through the gardens.
For a while—
conversation remained easy.
Work.
Photography.
Upcoming gallery arrangements.
Matteo never demanded.
Never pushed.
And perhaps—
that was why being around him felt restful.
“You’ve been quieter lately,” he said.
“I work.”
“You hide inside work.”
There was that word again.
Hide.
She smiled faintly.
“Why does everyone insist on psychoanalyzing me?”
“Occupational concern.”
“You’re not a psychologist.”
“No,” Matteo said.
“But I’m observant.”
The warmth in his voice carried something gentle.
And somewhere upstairs—
unfortunately—
Gabriel saw them.
Wonderful.
Absolutely wonderful.
He stood near the second-floor landing, looking down toward the veranda.
Coffee.
Laughter.
Matteo again.
And worse—
Lola looked comfortable.
Not guarded.
Not tense.
Comfortable.
The sight irritated him immediately.
Bianca appeared beside him carrying tea.
“You’re staring professionally.”
He looked away.
“I’m existing.”
“No.”
She followed his gaze.
“You’re suffering again.”
He exhaled.
“This conversation became repetitive.”
Bianca leaned against the railing.
The truth was—
she had remained unusually quiet these past days.
Not because she lacked opinions.
But because she was observing.
And what she observed unsettled her.
Not romantically.
She did not love Gabriel.
But she cared enough to recognize deterioration.
“You look terrible,” she said softly.
“That sounds supportive.”
“You kissed her after she said no.”
Straightforward.
Good.
He deserved straightforward.
His jaw tightened.
“I know.”
“And now she avoids you.”
“I know that too.”
Bianca looked downstairs.
“You should leave her alone.”
The advice sounded reasonable.
Unfortunately—
reason had become difficult lately.
Gabriel looked toward the veranda again.
“She said she’s giving Matteo a chance.”
Ah.
So that was the wound.
Bianca studied him.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
“And?”
“She means it.”
“Maybe.”
The answer unsettled him.
Because maybe frightened him.
He hated uncertainty.
And Lola—
Lola had become uncertainty wearing beautiful faces and impossible silences.
Down below, Matteo handed Lola something.
A brochure.
Gallery layouts perhaps.
Yet irrationally—
Gabriel disliked it anyway.
Bianca sighed.
“You’re jealous.”
“I’m tired of hearing that word.”
“Then stop behaving like its ambassador.”
That evening, Celestina hosted a small family dinner.
Nothing formal.
Just household company and quiet conversation.
Unfortunately—
Matteo remained for dinner after Alejandro insisted.
And somehow—
that worsened Gabriel’s mood immediately.
The dining room glowed beneath warm light.
Bianca sat elegantly beside Gabriel.
Lola sat across.
Matteo nearby.
Bella looked spiritually entertained.
Conversation drifted toward Manila exhibitions and business expansion.
Matteo spoke with Alejandro about investments.
Lola discussed photography reluctantly.
And Gabriel—
despite every effort—
noticed details.
The way Matteo remembered her favorite tea.
How naturally he included her in conversation.
The ease.
God.
The ease bothered him most.
At one point, Matteo smiled toward Lola.
“You still haven’t answered.”
She looked up.
“About?”
“The gallery opening.”
Ah.
The exhibit again.
Bella clasped her hands dramatically.
“You should say yes.”
“I dislike public attention.”
“You photograph storms,” Matteo said softly.
“You can survive applause.”
The remark earned quiet laughter.
And unexpectedly—
Lola smiled.
Not politely.
Genuinely.
Something sharp twisted inside Gabriel.
Ridiculous feeling.
Primitive.
And increasingly difficult to control.
Bianca noticed his expression and nearly sighed.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Then—
Alejandro, entirely too observant, asked casually,
“So, Matteo—are you courting our Lola seriously?”
The room quieted.
Lola looked mildly alarmed.
Bella nearly levitated.
Matteo, however, smiled calmly.
“Yes.”
Straightforward.
No hesitation.
Interesting.
Celestina looked pleased.
Bianca looked fascinated.
And Gabriel—
well.
Gabriel suddenly disliked breathing.
Alejandro continued,
“And?”
Matteo’s gaze shifted briefly toward Lola.
“I remain hopeful.”
Silence.
Very brief.
But heavy.
Lola lowered her eyes toward her wine.
And before she could answer—
Bella betrayed civilization.
“She said she might finally give him a chance.”
Traitor.
Absolute traitor.
The room stillened.
Gabriel looked up sharply.
Lola nearly kicked Bella beneath the table.
Matteo looked surprised.
And unexpectedly—
hope flickered across his face.
The sight disturbed Gabriel immediately.
Because suddenly—
the lie no longer belonged only to him and Lola.
It had entered the room.
Acquired witnesses.
And somehow—
grown teeth.
Lola spoke carefully.
“I said I’m considering possibilities.”
Diplomatic.
But not denial.
Gabriel heard that too.
The rest of dinner passed beneath careful conversation.
Yet tension sat quietly among crystal glasses and candlelight.
And afterward—
the estate gardens felt safer than company.
Lola escaped toward the eastern pathways hoping for silence.
Instead—
footsteps followed.
Of course.
She stopped beneath sampaguita vines.
“You ignore instructions professionally.”
Gabriel stood several feet away.
Not too close.
At least he had learned something.
“You said stay away.”
“I meant it.”
The night carried cool wind.
And something restless.
“You’re giving him a chance.”
Not greeting.
Not conversation.
Just injury disguised as question.
Lola folded her arms.
“This again?”
“You said it.”
“Yes.”
His expression tightened.
“And you mean it?”
The question irritated her.
Not because of jealousy.
But because he still sounded invested in answers he had no right demanding.
“What exactly are you asking?”
“Do you like him?”
Ah.
There it was.
The wound beneath pride.
She looked toward the gardens.
“He’s kind.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Her patience thinned.
“And why should I answer?”
“Because—”
He stopped.
Because what?
Because I care?
Because I’m afraid?
Because imagining you with him makes me miserable?
The honesty frightened him.
And somehow—
that frightened him more than rejection.
Lola exhaled quietly.
“You’re relentless.”
“I’m trying to understand.”
“No,” she said softly.
“You’re trying to hold on to something you haven’t earned.”
The words struck.
Hard.
He looked at her.
Moonlight shadowed his face.
“And if I’m trying not to lose you?”
Silence.
Dangerous silence.
Her pulse shifted annoyingly.
No.
She would not romanticize persistence.
Not after disappointment.
So she protected herself again.
With distance.
And perhaps—
with the lie.
“I told you already.”
Her voice remained calm.
“I’m considering Matteo.”
The words landed.
Clean.
Final.
And this time—
Gabriel believed her.
Something changed in his expression.
Not anger.
Something worse.
Hurt.
The realization unsettled her unexpectedly.
He stepped back.
And for once—
said nothing.
No argument.
No persistence.
Only quiet.
“Goodnight, Lola.”
The formality surprised her.
Then he walked away.
Leaving her beneath lantern light and uneasy silence.
And for reasons she refused examining—
watching him leave did not feel victorious.
Only lonely.
Because lies—
even protective ones—
had consequences.
And tonight—
hers had finally begun breathing.
- Writer
