ANG SUPER TIGANG KONG BOSS [THAT MANYAKIS CEO SERIES 2] SPG 🔞

CHAPTER 8

Tahimik pa rin siya.

Si Mr. Ismael.

Nakatalikod pa rin sa akin, hawak ang isang basong may natitirang yelo at alak. Parang may binabalanse siyang mundo sa loob ng katahimikang ‘yon.

Tumigil ako sa ilang hakbang bago siya marating. Ang lakas ng t***k ng puso ko. Hindi ko alam kung dapat ba akong umatras o huminga nang malalim at sumugod na lang.

Pero wala na rin akong kawala. Nandito na ako.

“Sir?” mahina kong tawag, almost a whisper.

Dahan-dahan siyang lumingon. At pagtingin niya sa akin, sandaling natahimik ang mundo ko.

“Pinky?” he asked, his voice husky, surprised.

Napakamot ako sa batok, pilit ngumiti. “Small world po, ‘no?”

“Are you following me?” may halong biro, pero halata sa mata niya—he wasn't annoyed. He was... curious?

“Hindi po, sir. I just needed a drink. Bad day,” sagot ko habang umiiwas ng tingin.

Tumingin siya saglit sa baso niya, tapos sinenyasan ako. “Sit.”

Umupo ako sa tabi niya, medyo awkward sa umpisa. Pero hindi ko inalis ang ngiti ko. Kasi kahit pa sobrang lito ng feelings ko, hindi ko maitatangging I still get butterflies whenever I'm near him.

Tahimik kaming dalawa for a while. Just the music playing, the distant honks from cars below, and the clink of ice in our glasses.

Then he finally spoke.

“Callie and I… we’re not okay,” he said, eyes straight ahead, not looking at me.

Napatingin ako sa kanya, tahimik lang. Hindi ko alam kung dapat ba akong sumabat or hayaan ko lang siyang magsalita.

“We’ve been pushing this wedding thing for months now, but I’m not sure if it’s still… right.”

I blinked. Did he just say that?

“You don’t love her?” tanong ko, almost in a whisper.

He sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I did. Maybe I still do in some way. Pero hindi sapat.”

“Then why stay?” tanong ko, boses ko mahina pero diretso.

“Because people expect me to,” sagot niya. “Because her family invested in the company. Because it makes sense.”

Tumahimik ulit kami.

I looked at him—his eyes were tired, his jaw clenched like he’d been holding something in for too long.

“I think,” I said softly, “na kahit gaano ka ka-intelligent or successful… kapag puso na ang kalaban, hindi ka na CEO.”

Napalingon siya sa akin. Napangiti ng konti.

“You always surprise me, Pinky,” bulong niya.

I blushed a little. “Surprise is my middle name, sir.”

He chuckled. And God—yung tawa niya, bihira lang ‘yon, but it was real. Sincere.

“Hindi mo na kailangang tawagin akong ‘sir’ dito,” he added, resting his elbow on the bar.

“Okay, Ismael,” I said slowly, enjoying how his name felt on my tongue.

He looked at me then, mas malambot ang mata, mas totoo. “So... bad day ka rin?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Sobrang gulo ng isip ko. Andami kong iniisip.”

“Tungkol sa work?”

“At sa puso,” sagot ko, then chuckled, trying to lighten it up. “Drama queen ‘di ba?”

He tilted his head. “Who is he?”

Napakagat ako sa labi. “Secret.”

“May gusto ka bang tao?” he asked, half-joking.

Napalingon ako sa kanya—parang tinamaan.

“Bakit mo natanong ‘yon?” tanong ko, kinakabahan bigla.

“Wala lang,” he said, looking away again. “You just seem... like someone who would give her all for something she believes in.”

I looked down at my drink. He doesn’t know how right he is.

“Maybe I did,” I said softly. “Maybe I’m starting to question it.”

Nagtagpo ang mata namin. And for the first time, I didn’t feel like just a secretary. I felt like someone genuine.

“I think,” he said slowly, “I needed this talk more than I realized.”

“Me too,” I replied.

And we just sat there—quiet, vulnerable, unsure of what comes next—but somehow, in that stillness, something shifted between us.

After that soft silence, things felt a little… lighter. Parang kahit papaano, we understood each other. Walang judgments. Walang pressure. Just two people, sitting side by side, airing out the parts of ourselves we rarely show anyone.

“Another round?” he asked, lifting his glass and signaling the bartender.

I raised my brow, half-teasing. “Sir—este, Ismael—baka mauna ka pang malasing kaysa sa akin.”

He chuckled. “I highly doubt that. I’ve seen you down three margaritas during the Christmas party tapos nagta-type ka pa ng memo.”

“Told you, I’m magic,” I said with a wink, feeling more relaxed than I had in days.

And so, we drank.

Not to drown, but to float—kahit pansamantala lang.

Pinag-usapan namin ang mga kalokohan sa office, si Mang Gerry sa basement printing room na akala laging may multo, si Tin-tin na laging nasisiraan ng printer, at kung paanong si Callie minsan ay sobrang obsessed sa tamang spacing ng layout kahit half inch lang ‘yung difference.

I noticed that every time I laughed, his eyes stayed on me longer than usual.

At bawat tawa niya, parang bihirang biyaya na hindi ko inaasahang maririnig mula sa isang taong akala ko’y laging seryoso, laging stiff.

He looked so… human tonight. Warm, if not a little lost.

At some point, napahilig ang ulo ko sa gilid, resting on my hand while I sipped my drink.

“Know what’s funny?” I said, tipsy but clear-headed. “All this time, I kept trying to get your attention. And here we are—talking like we’re old friends.”

He looked at me, curious. “You wanted my attention?”

I smirked, teasing. “Sir naman… obvious ba?”

“Hindi naman,” he replied with a slight grin. “Or maybe I was just trying not to notice.”

“Why?” tanong ko, this time more seriously.

He looked down at his glass. “Because you were a distraction. And because… if I noticed, I’d have to do something about it.”

Tahimik.

My heart skipped.

Then he added, “But maybe some distractions are worth the trouble.”

I wasn’t sure if I was drunk or just dizzy from that sentence.

Nagkatitigan kami sandali. And it wasn’t heavy or dramatic—just real.

But before the moment could get deeper, tumunog ang phone niya. He glanced at it. Callie.

He sighed and placed it face down on the bar without answering.

“Gusto mo na bang umuwi?” tanong niya, tinapik ang mesa.

I nodded, soft smile on my lips. “Yeah. I think I’ve had enough… of alcohol and emotional chaos.”

“Halika, I’ll drive you home,” he offered, standing up and placing some cash on the bar.

I blinked. “You sure?”

He met my eyes. “I insist. I’d rather see you safe than guess kung nakauwi ka nang maayos.”

I bit my lip, nodded. “Okay.”

Sa buong biyahe, tahimik kami. Hindi ‘yung awkward na silence—kundi ‘yung comfortable. Yung tipo ng katahimikan na nagsasabing parehong pagod na, parehong nag-iisip.

Nilingon ko siya minsan habang nagda-drive, tahimik pero composed. A man carrying the weight of his choices.

At ako? A woman carrying the weight of a panata... na unti-unti nang kumikirot sa damdamin.

Pagkarating namin sa harap ng place ko, tumigil ang sasakyan ni Mr. Ismael sa gilid ng kalsada. Medyo madilim sa paligid, tahimik na rin ang gabi. Nasa pagitan kami ng pagod, lungkot, at mga bagay na hindi masabi.

He parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt. Ako rin. Pero ni isa sa amin, walang bumaba agad.

“Thank you for the ride,” I said, trying to sound normal kahit parang naglalaban-laban ang emosyon sa loob ko.

He looked at me, eyes steady but unreadable. “Text me when you’re inside, okay? Just so I know you’re safe.”

“Wow. Sweet ka rin pala minsan,” biro ko, trying to lighten the mood.

He smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Only for a few people.”

I hesitated. My hand was already on the door handle, pero hindi pa rin ako bumababa.

“Ismael…” I said softly, turning back to him. “You ever wish things were simpler?”

“Every damn day,” he replied, voice low, almost a whisper. “But life’s not simple. Not when people expect you to be someone you’re still figuring out.”

Biglang bumigat ang dibdib ko. It was the most honest thing I’ve heard from him.

I wanted to say something comforting, pero naunahan ako ng kilos niya. He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. It was such a small gesture, but it made my breath hitch.

“Goodnight, Pinky,” he said, his voice warmer than usual. “Take care.”

I nodded slowly. “Goodnight.”

Pagkababa ko ng sasakyan, ramdam ko pa rin ‘yung tingin niya sa likod ko habang binubuksan ko ang gate. Nang makapasok na ako sa loob, saka lang ako napahinga nang malalim. I leaned against the door and touched my cheek, na parang may naiwan doon mula sa paglalapit naming kanina.

I pulled out my phone and typed, “I’m home. Thanks again.”

After a few seconds, may reply: “Good. Get some rest, Pinky.”

Simple lang. Pero ang epekto? Malala.

Sa loob ng kwarto ko, I sat on my bed in silence, heels kicked off, hair messily tied up. I stared at the ceiling, replaying every word, every look, every silence between us.

Ilang araw na akong litong-lito.

Draemon—he was stable, he was sure of himself, and he made me feel seen.

Ismael—he was the chaos I kept choosing. The man I vowed for. The one I wasn’t sure I’d ever have.

At doon ko narealize… I was in trouble.

Emotional trouble.