EMERALD

Gabriel?

My mind goes blank for a few seconds, and then I try to gauge the implications of the woman. I only know of one Gabriel. Could he be the same one this dramatic woman is talking about? She just said, home.

If it’s what I’m thinking... Is she… Gabriel's girlfriend? Wife? Fiancée?

Whatever it is, it's not Platonic, and so is my relationship with Gabriel. We've been dating for months. My heart sinks as I process the whole situation, the realization kicking in.

I take a step back, as if that would help my crushing heart. Is this really happening? What are the odds Gabriel played us both? Who’s the side piece?

“What is going on?” Cecilia’s voice snaps me back to the present.

“Ask this home–wrecking bitch,” the woman quickly jumps in, pointing a finger at me.

“Excuse me?” I snap. Uh, ma’am. You're the one with the vendetta to burn my skin. I didn't even know of your existence until five seconds ago.

“Emerald,” Cecilia holds up a hand.

“I need to speak to the manager. If you don’t fire this woman, I'm going to sue the hotel,” the woman passes the threat.

For the first time, I get to fully scan her. She looks like someone in my age group. Her blond, wavy hair falls perfectly on her back. Her make-up is impeccable. You can’t miss the highlight of her red lipstick. She's classy, in a red dress that looks like it cost three times my monthly salary or more. The black handbag hanging in her left hand must be from one of the most expensive brands. Her looks explain it all. She’s definitely capable of suing this hotel.

I look down, at myself. At the uniform I have on. The chicken soup makes the apron hideous.

Was Gabriel really playing us both? What was his angle exactly?

“We can deal with this privately,” says Cecilia, trying to handle the situation calmly and maturely.

Almost half an hour later, the hotel is calm and back to its normal activities. She wouldn’t be Cecilia if she weren’t perfect at what she does. The next thing I know, I'm being summoned to Cecilia's office.

She's alone when I walk in. I want to say thank God, since that trouble-making woman left, but the look on Cecilia's face tells me there's nothing to be relieved about. My thoughts are confirmed by the dreadful words that follow.

“I’m so sorry, Emerald,” she says with a fallen expression.

Of course, she is.

She’s obviously not sorry for the chicken soup that was poured on me.

“I will write a very good recommendation for you. Your experience at The Galaxy will help,” she coaxes.

“Aren't you going to ask for my side of the story?”

“Do I have to?” She raises her brows.

Seems a decision has been made. No amount of talking would revoke it, as unfair as this sounds.

“Why am I being fired for something that isn't my fault?” I still ask.

Gabriel is the asshole here. I thought we were in love. I even envisioned our relationship ending up like my parents’. But again, who would care about a waitress’s love life, right?

“Lindsey Hayes barked all sorts of threats. She comes from a very powerful family, Emerald. The CEO will be brutal. Which is why, after Lindsey gave him a call, I told him I would deal with you myself.”

“You mean fire me yourself,” I snort.

She sighs…

Right. There goes my dream of making my parents afford the services of this luxurious hotel.

✰ ✰ ✰

I RARELY STAY at home in the afternoons. I'm always busy. When I’m not at work, I'm helping my parents at the floral shop, or out with Alicia, or with Gabriel.

Gabriel.

Did I even mean anything to him? Was any of it real?

There's no way a rich woman would come out of nowhere and cause trouble with a simple waitress if it wasn't serious. And I'm the one wrecking her home? Just great.

Now I have plenty of time to stay at home. I close the door to my room right before I tiredly slump into bed and sigh. My mind replays everything that just happened. I lost my job at the snap of some second-generation heir’s fingers. They didn't even care about my services, yet I gave them my all.

The world isn’t always fair, Emerald, my mother likes to point out. Truer words have never been said.

Now, I have a crisis at hand. Apart from my heart being shattered into pieces, I have to worry about the bills. It was easier when I helped my parents. My brother's hospital bills are also piling up.

My brother is the topic that makes eyes well up in this house. The twenty-year-old decided to take matters into his own hands, and look where that got him. A hospital bed.

Why did he try to fight? One man against so many? What was he thinking? It makes me furious. I wasn't there to protect him either. Even though we're four years apart, we’ve always had each other's backs.

I haven’t slept well since that tragic incident.

The least I could do was make sure he got the best care in the hospital. How can I do that now, when I’m jobless? It's going to be a heavy burden for my parents before I get my next job, which is difficult these days, especially when you don't have credentials. That job was like a miracle. But now it’s over.

I could sue them for wrongful termination, but what would that cost? They are powerful enough and must have the best lawyers. Can I even afford one?

I don’t know how long I wallow in my sorrows because a hand suddenly taps my shoulder, making me jolt.

“Emerald, wake up,” my mother’s voice sounds from a distance. I rub my eyes to clear the fog. It takes a while before my mind registers the environment. When did I fall asleep, and for how long have I been off?

“You’re home early. Are you okay?” Mother probes.

I sit up and take my phone to check the time. It's seven in the evening. The last thing I remember is cursing ‌how my life's in shambles.

I have several missed calls from Gabriel and a text from an unknown number. [You will know no peace, and I will ensure that. I'll make your life a living hell. I promise.]

I frown, my eyes still glued to the text. As if ruining my job wasn’t enough. Now she’s sending threats? I read the threatening text again, like it would make any difference in the situation.

“Emerald.”

I must have been silent for longer than I should, even forgetting my mother's presence.

“You're acting strange. What's the matter?”

Knowing my mother, she would drill me for information, and lying wouldn’t work since she detects those from a mile away.

Luckily, I have something to blame for my fallen expression.

“So many missed calls from Gabriel,” I tell her.

“Must explain why he's here. He's waiting for you downstairs.”

“Gabriel is here?” I ask the obvious.

Actually, I need to have a word with him.

EMERALD

TOWARDS THE ENTRANCE of the living room, I hear voices filled with laughter. My father must be catching up well with Gabriel. The room is jovial, unlike my mood. I want to kill someone, and by someone, I mean a scornful man in the form of a boyfriend. I clear my throat, announcing my presence, and the men shift their attention to me.

“Sweetheart, you're home. Gabriel and I were catching up. He was just telling me a funny story.

Did you know he was a superb soccer player at a very young age?” My father asks.

“Was he now? He never told me that. I bet there are so many things he hasn't told me. Right, Gabriel?” I force a smile, my eyes glued on him.

“Well,” Father gets up from his seat. “I’ll go check on my beloved wife. She must be missing me.”

There's silence for a few seconds after my father leaves. A weird type of silence. Gabriel is still seated, while I’m glued to the same spot, shooting glares at him. At the man I’ve considered important to me for months. At the man I couldn’t envision my future without. At the man who made me believe I was special. At the man who, despite a few bumps in our relationship, I always found a way to reason with and defend him.

Well, I overdosed, should have known your love was a game (A line from one of my favorite songs). I make a mental note to put it on repeat for the next few days, this time relating to the lyrics, especially the we don’t talk anymore part.

“How have you been, babe?” he finally gets up to approach me, ignoring the unspeakable tension in the air.

“Feeling better now that you're here,” I lie. He smiles, closing the distance between us.

“I'm glad you're here,” I insist. He doesn’t wipe the smile off his face.

“Really?” He asks.

“Yeah,” I nod. “So you can explain to me why a woman almost burned me to ashes for wrecking her home.” I snap.

His lips twitch in a split second. I almost miss it. Something tells me he knows exactly what I'm talking about. Although he tries to mask it—to feign ignorance—his first expression already gave him away.

The tiny piece of hope I was still holding, that it was just a crazy woman's antics, flies out the window. I know the lying Gabriel face. I’ve seen it a few times. When he crafted excuses not to spend time with me. Or when I found him in the wrong place. Mostly when he’d lie about his location, and by some luck, I'd find him at a different one.

Speaking of which, just how many red flags from this lying bastard did I ignore? Was it the fact that I was so in love with him? Or was I so obsessed with having what my parents had that I always thought we would work things out, no matter the issue? That is a dangerous fit.

The realization of how I overlooked so many things slaps like an electric shock on my skin. I always got hung up on the fact that relationships can’t always be perfect, but how much more can one take? Maybe I clung to the positives of our relationship a little too much and turned a blind eye to the red flags. Or maybe Gabriel was just a fucking good liar..

Before he parts his lips to defend himself, I ask, “How long have you been lying to me?”

“Emerald,” he sighs.

Right, that's another lying Gabriel. He calls my name and then goes silent for a while, which I usually take as his way of buying time to concoct a lie. His actions prove he already knows what I’m talking about.

“Lindsey, right?” I proceed.

He rakes his fingers through his hair. “Emerald.”

“If you call my name one more time, I’ll slice your throat.”

“She is a stalker who's obsessed with me. I heard what happened at the hotel. That's why I came to check on you. Did she hurt you?” He cups my face, looking into my eyes. If I didn't know better, I would believe him.

Actually, I used to believe him before this. I guess it takes one tragic incident to open your eyes. How many times did he use that move on me? God knows how many lies he got away with.

Gosh, I knew love was blind. But stupid?

I shove his hands off my cheeks. “A stalker?”

His hands fly to his waist as he nods. “Yes.”

One can definitely do better.

“What…Now you’re a celebrity that girls are obsessing over?”

He purses his lips. “Baby, can we talk about this calmly?”

I swallow past a lump. “Why? So you can lie to me calmly?”

“I’m not—”

“Then let’s go find Lindsey and warn her against ruining our relationship. Can you do that?” I cut him off.

It’s an outrageous idea, I know. But I would love to see Gabriel's response.

He could deny the allegations and throw Lindsey under the bus. That wouldn’t be any good for me either. Besides, the woman sent a clear warning a while ago. From everything that has transpired, it's evident she has a lot of power. For her to threaten a hotel like Galaxy?

And how is she with Gabriel? I have so many questions about their relationship, but asking will be of no use to me.

“There’s no need for all that, Emerald.” Gabriel holds my shoulders, and once again, I shove his hands off me.

“Then tell me the truth,” I demand.

The room falls silent for a while. I can feel my raging heartbeat. With every beat, it strikes anger.

I scoff. Maybe this time, he's actually lacked the words to convince me.

“If you're not going to speak, it only means one thing… That being said, get out of my house.” I point to the door.

"We're done."

EMERALD

HAVE YOU EVER LOST two things that you valued on the same day? How bad was it that he couldn’t even find words to defend himself? I had to draw most conclusions by myself.

Because even if he’d tried to lie again and claim that Lindsey didn't mean anything, the truth would still come out in one way or the other.

The woman just promised to make my life a living hell. I'll cross that bridge, but right now, as much as it hurts, Gabriel and I are over.

What do you do when you’ve just dumped your deceitful boyfriend?

A night out with Alicia. That’s it.

As my parents always say, past is past, today is a gift, and the future is bright.

Sitting on my bed, crying myself to sleep, would be akin to letting Gabriel win. He'd still be controlling my life. He isn't worthy of that.

I have a VIP ticket for Luvian, which I got from a loyal patron at The Galaxy. It was his way of thanking me for my services. His form of a tip. He’d said he was leaving the country and didn’t want to waste a precious ticket. I had kept it, despite not being sure whether I was ever going to use it.

Now, all I can say is, perfect timing.

What I know about that club is that it’s one of the overpriced ones in the city. Alicia could know more. We’re probably going to mingle with millionaires and billionaires. We might look out of place, but I don’t care. The point is, today is a gift, so why not enjoy it the way it is?

We head for the bar first, because I need to take shots as soon as possible.

“One, two, three…” We gulp down the shots in unison and slam the empty glasses on the counter, scrunching our faces. That’s what a shot of scotch does to us. Someone once told me, the best way to handle scotch is to sip it slowly, savoring the flavor. I don’t think I have that kind of patience now.

Oh, and that someone was Gabriel, which is why I’d rather have my throat burned than take his advice.

“So,” Alicia begins. “Your life is in danger? Should I get you a bodyguard?” She jokes. It’s barely been five minutes since I narrated the events of my day to her.

“What if they're empty threats for me to leave her man, which I just did?”

Did I make a rash decision? Of course not. He lied to me. His actions cost me my job. I should cut him off before this becomes one of those long-term, on-and-off toxic relationships.

“Well, then I have a better suggestion.”

I raise a brow in interest.

“Let's kill Gabriel,” she says without blinking. Like it’s an option. Sounds like a fantastic idea, but I can do better with my life than serve jail time because of an asshole.

“Get me five shots of tequila,” a deep, sultry voice captures my attention before I respond to Alicia’s suggestion. I immediately make a quick turn to capture the owner of that sexy voice that's hard to ignore.

My eyes meet a pair of sexy ones. Just like his voice.

And…did he just come straight from a modeling agency? Everything about this guy is hot. I can't tear my eyes away from him. Goodness, I'd buy any product advertised by him.

He has very admirable lashes and bushy brows—typical of most men—but that doesn't make him look like any common man. It makes him…more gorgeous. The loose strand of hair hanging on the forehead is another highlight of his killer look. The rest of his brown hair makes my hand itch for a touch. He must be using men's most expensive hair product there is. Or is it natural?

He's in a button-up white shirt. The first three buttons from the top are open, revealing a tip of his chest. Damn! My eyes linger on his chest, then his broad shoulders. How…how does one manage to look like this?

“That will be twenty thousand dollars.” His voice startles me. It takes a few seconds to realize he's not talking to the bartender. Goodness, I must have stared at that beautiful art for more than it is appropriate.

“What?” I ask, confused. Last I checked, I wasn't the bartender. Whatever this guy is smoking, I'd love to have some. In fact, make that double.

“You've been staring like you want to eat me alive, which is why I'm charging you. Are you a cannibal or something?” He asks with a frown.

He still looks desirable with that frown.

“Something,” I flash a fake smile. The initial frown on his face is replaced with a smile.

Fake or real, he should do that often. It's like I've seen a ray of sunshine in the dark. A smile so beautiful, with the ability to pull me out of my distress. I'd choose to watch that for the whole night.

However, this time I'm careful not to get charged for over-staring.

Wait, what kind of assholery was that? And did he just call me a cannibal?

“Get over yourself,” I roll my eyes. Coming back to my senses, I glower at him.

I turn to the silent, Alicia, ignoring the stranger.

“I should get over myself? You're the one who wants to eat me alive.” He scoffs. “Thank goodness I don't have a crazy girlfriend.” This time, he leans in, making me breathe faintly, taking in his intoxicating scent. That only lasts a few seconds until my mind catches up to what he just said.

Why would he randomly talk about a crazy girlfriend? Does it mean his girlfriend is here? And why does the thought of it send a dull ache through my heart? Must be the alcohol. I stick to that.

“What?” I turn to give him attention.

“I said, thank goodness, I don’t have a crazy girlfriend,” he clarifies.

Before I probe, he turns to the bartender.

“Make that fifteen shots, for the ladies. Especially her.” He motions his head, referring to me. “She's had a crappier day than mine. She needs it more.” Then he turns to me. His eyes bore into mine, sending my heart into a race. His lips part, and the words, “right, baby?” flow off smoothly, making my entire world pause.

Baby.

I let out a breath. It feels like I’ve just run a marathon in those few seconds.

What the hell? I’m concerned about the wrong words. Let’s go back to the part where he seems certain about the kind of day I’ve had. I turn to give Alicia a slight glance, to check if she’s as confused as I am. She responds with raised brows and refocuses on her drink like she doesn’t want to be part of my drama.

That’s a first.

Then I turn back to the Adonis. “Do we know each other?” I squint my eyes.

“Not until today. Unless my memory has suddenly become faulty—which, of course, it hasn't— you’re the home-wrecking girl from the hotel. How is your skin, by the way? I hope it didn’t get burned. It would be a shame for such charming skin…”

“Asshole,” I hiss, gritting my teeth, now getting it.

I came to have fun. Not to be reminded of what my life has become. He responds with an annoying smirk. One plus one… He must have witnessed the scandal earlier. It sickens me that he’s judging from the fence. And why do I even care about what he thinks?

“Does it hurt? Minding your business, asshole?” I speak out as I feel the anger rise beneath my veins. Is it the fact that a guy can look breathtakingly handsome but have a lot of trash coming off his mouth, or am I so upset from the events of the day that even the slightest provocation triggers my fury?

“Don’t crucify me,” he raises his hands. “I was just a spectator of the girls' drama.”

“Unbelievable!” My pupils widen.

Girls’ drama?

What did I expect from a random stranger in a club, anyway?

“Note to self: unless you want your skin marinated with soup, do not sleep with someone else’s partner.”

I don't know how things happen so fast, because one minute, I’m staring at the man, and then the next, I’m using my hands to splash two shots of tequila on his white shirt. My action earns a gasp from Alicia and the bartender.

“Damn! That’s feisty. And…hot.”

Umm…what? That’s definitely the most unexpected reaction.

“Not sleeping with anyone I shouldn't, yet I’m getting almost the same punishment?” He mutters.

There’s no trace of offense on his face. On the contrary, he seems to be enjoying this, if the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips is any indication. A sexy smirk that leaves me wondering…

Are we in the same reality?

“Do you know the repercussions of what you’ve done?” He asks. I think I’ve had enough threats for the day.

“Are you going to have me arrested?” I shrug.

He grins. “I like you.”

Is he being serious?