I rang the doorbell before running a hand through my hair. Medyo malamig ang simoy ng hangin, pero hindi ko alam kung dahil sa panahon. I stood on Calista's porch, waiting for the door to open. I didn’t overdress, pero siyempre I had to keep up with my usual appearance—white dress shirt, black jeans, and my exclusive leather jacket na regalo sa sarili ko noong natapos ko ang third property ng Herrera Group sa Makati.
I heard footsteps approaching the door, and a few seconds later, it opened.
“Finally, you’re here. Come on in,” bati ng babae in a cheerful voice.
Susan, Calista’s mom, looked radiant. Her green dress complimented her skin tone, and the way her hair was twisted to one side made her look younger than I remembered from the first time I saw her. She had a natural grace, like s
