Chapter 10

Adam...

SANYA closed the car door after getting out, but I didn't confront her. She's showing a different side of herself now, is this her darker side?

"Oh, you're here," her Mom greeted us when we entered the door. Sanya didn't even kiss her Mom on the cheek and just walked past her into the house. I've noticed for a while now that she's distant from her parents, especially her Dad. I used to think it was about our marriage, but it's still the same, so what's the problem?

"Hi Mom," I greeted her, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Where's Dad?"

She smiled at me. "He's upstairs. He just got back from work and I told him to come home early for dinner with you."

"Work? Seriously, Mom?" Sanya raised an eyebrow at her.

"Sanya," her Mom's voice carried a tone of warning when she called her name, and Sanya just rolled her eyes. Her attitude towards me, it turns out, is normal for her, even with her parents.

"Oh, it looks like you're already here," a male voice called from upstairs, Sanya's Dad. "Adam, it's good to see you."

"Of course, Dad," I couldn't help but notice the sharp glare Sanya gave her Dad.

"Shall we eat?" her Mom asked again, so I nodded.

As we sat down, Sanya and I were next to each other, with her parents sitting across from us. Her Mom served me food, but Sanya just quietly looked down at her plate and picked at her food. "Sanya, please attend to your husband."

She glanced up at her Mom and then at me. My eyes widened when she scooped almost all the contents of her plate onto mine. "Won't Adam's stomach hurt from all this?" She practically buried me in rice.

"He can handle it," she smiled at her Mom, the same smile she gives me when she's teasing. "After all, he has hands, why would I need to serve him? He's not disabled."

"Sanya, is this how you treat your husband? It's only right to serve him because he's your husband," her Mom scolded her again.

"Why don't you hire a servant or maid for him if that's what you want, not a wife," her Dad intervened, holding her Mom's hand to stop her because it was clear she was annoyed with Sanya's responses.

"I'm sorry for them, Mom. Sanya wasn't having a good day," I said, looking at Sanya, who was eating quietly and sighing.

Throughout our meal, she remained silent, so I ended up being the one answering her Mom's questions. Her Dad, on the other hand, kept glancing at his phone like he was in a conversation.

"So, Sanya, how's school?" her Dad finally spoke.

She briefly looked up at her Dad before giving a curt response. "Fine."

"How about your grades?"

She lowered her head and toyed with her food using her fork. "Good." It seemed like she didn't have any interest in talking.

"I heard there was a problem the other day. Tell me about it."

"It's over, okay? There's no need to revisit it," she replied.

Her Dad nodded. "If you have any problems at school, you know you can call me and talk to me."

"Why, Crisanto?" she stared at her Dad, and I was surprised to hear her call him by his name. "Because I am your father."

"Since when?"

"Sanya! Don't speak to your father that way!" her Mom scolded her.

"If you don't talk to me, there's no need for me to respond. And then you'll get annoyed. It's not new to me, so don't act like you're saints and pretend to be loving parents. We both know that—" before Sanya could finish her sentence, her Mom slapped her in front of us, and I was shocked but even more surprising was that she just smiled and composed herself. "—we both know that you've never really been parents to me because you, Crisanto, are always busy with work, while your wife is busy entertaining various women!"

Sanya received another slap on her cheek, and I wanted to help her and get her away from her parents, but I remained frozen in my seat. "You have no shame! We're in front of Adam, and you chose to show your horrible behaviour!"

"So you're ashamed too?" she looked at her Dad. "Why, Crisanto? And why you? Why, Mommy? Why are you both pretending? We all know that—" Sanya was about to say something else when her Mom slapped her again, but this time, she just smiled and fixed herself. "—we all know that neither of you has been parents to me because you, Crisanto, are always busy with work, while your wife is busy entertaining various women!"

Sanya's Dad held her Mom's hand to stop her, clearly annoyed by Sanya's responses.

"I'm sorry, Mom, for her behaviour. She had a bad day," I said, looking at Sanya, who was eating quietly and sighing.

As we continued to eat, she remained silent, so I ended up being the one answering her Mom's questions. Her Dad, on the other hand, kept glancing at his phone like he was in a conversation.

"So, Sanya, how's school?" her Dad finally spoke.

She briefly looked up at her Dad before giving a curt response. "Fine."

"How about your grades?"

She lowered her head and toyed with her food using her fork. "Good." It seemed like she didn't have any interest in talking.

"I heard there was a problem the other day. Tell me about it."

"It's over, okay? There's no need to revisit it," she replied.

Her Dad nodded. "If you have any problems at school, you know you can call me and talk to me."

"Why, Crisanto?" she stared at her Dad, and I was surprised to hear her call him by his name. "Because I am your father."

"Since when?"

"Sanya! Don't speak to your father that way!" her Mom scolded her.

"If you don't talk to me, there's no need for me to respond. And then you'll get annoyed. It's not new to me, so don't act like you're saints and pretend to be loving parents. We both know that—" before Sanya could finish her sentence, her Mom slapped her in front of us, and I was shocked but even more surprising was that she just smiled and composed herself. "—we both know that you've never really been parents to me because you, Crisanto, are always busy with work, while your wife is busy entertaining various women!"

Sanya received another slap on her cheek, and I wanted to help her and get her away from her parents, but I remained frozen in my seat. "You have no shame! We're in front of Adam, and you chose to show your horrible behaviour!"

"So you're ashamed too?" she looked at her Dad. "Crisanto, why are you ashamed to go to public places with your women without even considering that your only daughter might see you?"

The surroundings suddenly fell silent. I looked at Sanya, trying to read the emotions in her eyes. Was she like this because of what she said? Because she always saw her Dad in various places with different women?

"Don't exhaust my patience, Sanya," her Mom said softly.

"Um, Mom, I'll take Sanya home now," I said, pulling her by the arm.

When we got outside, she removed my hand that was holding her and got into her car. As we returned to the campus parking lot, she quickly got out of the car. I followed her.

"Sanya," I called her name, but she didn't turn around.

"Go home first. I'll be fine here," she said, getting into her car and driving away.

When I got home and entered my room, I couldn't help but think about everything that had happened with Sanya.

Was her anger and distrust towards the world and men in general because of her Dad? Was she suppressing everything with anger because deep down, she was hurt? Now, I understood why she acted the way she did. Who could be a loving person when their own family had failed to show them love and care?

I glanced at my phone when it rang. There was a message from an unknown number.

Az, are you still awake? -Tora

I checked the time; it was already one in the morning. I replied with a yes, and a few minutes later, my phone rang again. It was Lena's number; I had saved it in my contacts.

"Hello."

She sighed on the other end. "Thank God you're still awake."

"Why? What's going on?"

"It's about Sanya."

"What happened?"

"We received a message from her around ten in the evening, inviting us – me, Kyra, and Alexa – to meet her. So, we went to the nearest bar. She drank a lot of vodka and became very quiet. She wasn't like that with us. We tried to talk to her, but she wouldn't say anything. That's why I'm calling you now. I know you're not close, and I know the real situation between you, but I thought you might know why she's acting this way."

"Earlier, we came from her parents' house. They had an argument, and her Mom slapped her twice. That's all I know."

"Is that so?"

"Tora!" I heard another voice in the background, probably Alexa.

"Have you seen Sanya?" another female voice, most likely Kyra, asked.

"No, I was on the phone. Why?"

"She left suddenly, and we tried to catch up, but we couldn't find her. She might be drunk, and we're worried something might happen to her."

"I didn't notice. I was on the phone."

"Wait! Her car is here; maybe she took a taxi home."

"Hello, Az, you still there?" Lena asked.

"Yes."

"She went home, but her car is still here. Maybe she took a taxi. Can you please wait for her? Make sure she's okay and that she gets home safely."

"Okay," I said and ended the call.

I went down to the living room and waited for Sanya. Several minutes passed, and I started to worry. It was late at night, and there shouldn't be much traffic. What if something bad had happened to her? I couldn't help but imagine worst-case scenarios, especially considering that Sanya was a young woman, and these days, you couldn't be too careful.

I heard the sound of a car pulling up in front of our house. I peered out of the window and saw a white taxi. Sanya stepped out from the backseat and staggered toward the gate and our front door.

I quickly opened the door and managed to catch her as she nearly stumbled. We both ended up sitting on the floor.

I helped her up and tried to support her. "What are you doing? You came home so late. Do you know what could have happened? What if someone had taken advantage of you? And you were drinking when you clearly can't handle it. You come home at this hour and bother me."

Sanya laughed as I scolded her. "Who are you?" She approached me and stared at my face, her vision was probably blurred from the alcohol. The room was dimly lit, and with her drunken state, she might not have recognized me. "You look familiar. Do I know you?" She laughed again.

I shook my head. "You're drunk, Sanya. You need to rest."

"I am not drunk!" She pushed me away when I tried to help her stand, causing her to fall back on the floor. "I told you, I'm not drunk. I'm just... hurting."

I stared at her as tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her face. This was the first time I had seen her cry and appear so vulnerable. The usually cold and unfeeling Sanya was crying right in front of me.

"The fact that you're crying now and saying that you're hurting. You're definitely drunk."

“Fuck you!”

"I'm more used to that," I laughed. "But I'm not used to seeing Sanya like this, crying and admitting that she's hurt. Because the Sanya I know is tough, almost like an Amazonian girl, and I don't know what to say to lighten your feelings, or at least ease the pain. I don't know where it's coming from, but I can listen to you, even though I know that tomorrow you'll forget all of this, tomorrow everything will be normal again, you'll forget that we had this conversation, and you'll forget me."

She looked at me and gave me a smile, a smile I've only seen now, a smile that tells me she's hurting, but she's trying to say she's okay through that smile.

"Who are you really?" she asked again. I didn't know if I should burst into laughter or get annoyed. I'm her husband, and she can't recognize me? But it's dark around us, and maybe her mind is still muddled from the alcohol.

"Why do I need to introduce myself when you won't remember me tomorrow, anyway?"

She nodded.

"Tell me, why are you hurting?" She lowered her head, and I saw her tears fall to the floor. "Tell me, I'm here, I'll listen."

"I saw him."

"Who? Your father?" She nodded.

"It shouldn't be like this. I should be used to it by now. I shouldn't be fucking hurt, but why?"

"What did you see?" She took a deep breath, and I approached her, gently caressing her back to provide some comfort.

"Mom said he came from work when I just saw his car while I was waiting for my fucking retarded husband," I furrowed my brow. Wow, what a compliment. If she weren't drunk, I might have reacted differently, but I tried to understand. "I saw his car, and he was with a beautiful woman, and guess what? She looks even younger than me," she chuckled after saying that.

"Fuck him and his mistresses! Why do they still choose to be together? Damn it, they shouldn't use me as an excuse, saying it's because of me, love, or whatever nonsense! That's not true because when I was still a child, they didn't care about me, and suddenly they'd ask me, 'How's your grade?'" She tried to imitate her father's voice, then she laughed, and I laughed too.

"'How's your grade,' he said?" She chuckled again. "Am I in grade school or high school? Back then, they didn't even come when I received awards at school, and they'd say when there's a problem, we can approach them, so I had to cause trouble for them to notice me. He acts like everything is normal. What does he want me to say? My grades are good, they are high, and how about you? How's it going with your mistresses? Is it enjoyable?" I couldn't help but laugh at what she said. "Right? He's such a jerk!"

I shook my head. I was sure that if Sanya remembered this tomorrow, she might not talk to me any more. I stared at her as she started sobbing. "But why does it still hurt? Why am I still affected? I should be used to them already. I'm used to getting slapped when I answer back. My cheek is already numb. Try it!" She took my hand and pressed it to her cheek. That's when I noticed a red mark near her ear. Getting slapped twice with such force would surely leave a mark. But when she said she was used to getting slapped, does that mean her mother did it all the time?

I gently touched her cheek. "I no longer feel the pain from the slaps because I'm already numb, but why do I still feel it inside? Why can't I numb what I feel inside?"

"Because you're human, you still get hurt, and you have the right to feel hurt. Who would be happy to see their father with other women when there should only be one woman he's supposed to love, their mother? That's how we all see our parents, who would be happy if your mother, whom you think should be on your side, punishes you because you know what you see is wrong," she looked at me. "You're human, you get hurt, that's normal."

"That's so nice of you, stranger. It was the first time someone cared about me other than my friends. If I didn't have a spouse, I'd marry you," I laughed.

"You're really drunk. Come on, I'll take you to your room," I picked her up, and she just stared at my face, trying to recognize me.

When I opened her room's door, I immediately laid her on the bed. I looked around; this was the first time I had seen her room, and I noticed it looked like a boy's room because of the design—mostly white with little colour. Even her bed was plain white. Usually, a girl's room is pink or has many feminine decorations. I went into her walk-in closet to check its appearance. Her clothes were neatly arranged, but like her room, there wasn't much design. There were no pictures around. It seemed boring and sad, just like her. How could she stand being locked up in here all day? I even thought this looked like a room in a mental hospital.

Her room was dark, so I turned on the lampshade next to her bed. "Turn off the lights," I was surprised when she spoke because I thought she was already asleep. "I don't want it bright."

I did as she said. "Rest now; it's late, and you have school tomorrow." I tucked her in, and I was surprised when she held my hand.

"Hey, stranger, stay here for a while," I kneeled beside her, and she just looked at me. The light from the window helped me see her face better. "Stay."

"Okay, now go to sleep," she closed her eyes, and I smiled. After making sure she was asleep, I brushed a few strands of hair from her face and gently caressed the mark from the slap before giving it a quick kiss.

"Good night, Sanya, sleep well," I whispered, then left her room to get some rest as well.