The Rendezvous

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Miggy's POV

The familiar routine was back in place - long commutes, endless traffic, and a constant feeling of being pulled in a million directions. Carla and Meynard's parents were at my parent's house, offering support during this difficult time, especially with my dad's upcoming forty days.

Meynard and I were back in my condo after another long day at work.

The commercial launch for Gabie's endorsement was fast approaching, and despite the whirlwind of responsibilities swirling around me, the thought of seeing her again filled me with a thrilling mix of anticipation and apprehension. The last time I'd seen her, it felt like a lifetime ago, a memory fading like a photograph left out in the sun. I'd caught a glimpse of the commercial during a conference room meeting, and the sight of her on that big screen sent a jolt of electricity through my veins. My heart pounded in my chest like a drum solo, each beat echoing the excitement building inside me. But beneath the excitement, a shadow of doubt lingered, a whisper of fear that she might not recognize me, that she might have moved on. My hands trembled slightly as I reached for my phone, my fingers fumbling with the buttons as if they were coated in ice.

"This is Manuel Sansebastian Gabriel's older brother," Rick introduced uncle Manuel to Willie, their hands clasped in a firm handshake, one late afternoon. "And this is Willie Angeles, the private investigator that Miggy hired." The low hum of conversation and the clinking of silverware filled the dimly lit restaurant, the aroma of sizzling garlic and herbs mingling with the scent of coffee.

"So, Miggy told me everything about your investigation," uncle Manuel said, his voice a low murmur. "From what I understand, you've seen the child. Since our last meeting, have you had a chance to talk to him?" He hesitated, his gaze fixed on the swirling pattern of his coffee, a flicker of worry in his eyes.

Willie nodded his gaze fixed on the swirling pattern of his coffee. "I've been trying to befriend her. He mentioned that she's a working student and that she's on her own, so she has to work hard."

Uncle Manuel sighed, his hand hovering over his coffee cup, a knot of tension forming in his brow. "I want to see her, to talk to her, but I'm afraid of upsetting her."

"I had the same thought," I chimed in. "That's why uncle Rick and I decided to inform you. Maybe you can think of a way to approach her without making her uncomfortable."

Uncle Rick cleared his throat, his eyes twinkling with a plan. "Here's what I was thinking. We could ask Willie to arrange a meeting with that poor young lady on a day when she doesn't have classes. You can invent a reason for the meeting, Will, since you know how to talk to her. We need to make sure we have enough time for the meeting, so we can all be there to help explain everything."

"And once she understands what we're trying to tell her," Uncle Rick continued, "then you can tell her about our plans to help her, to make her life a little easier."

Uncle Manuel agreed with the idea, feeling relieved that they could explain things clearly to my long-lost half-sister. Meynard raised a concern, wondering if the girl might get scared or think negatively if only men approached her. Willie reassured us, saying the girl is used to talking to different men at the bar where she works.

Uncle Rick suggested meeting with her at a restaurant to make her feel more comfortable and to avoid any misunderstandings. With nods of agreement from uncle Manuel, Meynard, and Willie, the plan seemed set.

Uncle Manuel turned to me for my opinion. I simply said I was okay with everything that has been discussed, but deep down, I'm worried about facing my mom after this meeting. "How would I explain everything to her? Would she understand or believe us?"

          

Uncle Manuel and Uncle Rick reassured me, saying they were there to help me and would figure out how to handle my mom later. Right now, we needed to focus on helping her. I nodded, my fingers drumming nervously on the table, my eyes darting around the room, as if searching for an escape from my worries.

They continued talking about the upcoming meeting with my sister Gabriella Therese. I couldn't bring myself to feel anger, not for the her, who was a victim of circumstance, but for the pain and confusion that had been inflicted on her. A wave of empathy washed over me, a deep ache on my chest as I imagined her lonely journey, a life shadowed by grief, a constant struggle against the odds.

We all agreed that Willie would call us as soon as he had a date set for the meeting with the her. Willie reached for his phone, a glint of determination in his eyes. "I'll call you as soon as I have a date set for the meeting with the her."

"Relax kuya, you're apparently so anxious," Meynard said as they prepared to leave for Bulacan. It was Saturday, so we had made up an excuse to my mother that we had work to finish, which meant we wouldn't be home. She had insisted us be home on Tuesday, the day of my father's forty days, so I agreed to avoid any further questions. I glanced at my watch the ticking hands a constant reminder of the ever-shrinking hours. My mind raced, juggling the demands of my job, my family, and this newfound responsibility, a tangled web of obligations that threatened to overwhelm me more. I could almost hear my own voice, sharp and disapproving, echoing in my ears. "What have you gotten yourself into now?" The mere thought of facing her, of explaining this complicated situation, sent a shiver of dread down my spine.

"I don't know, this anxiety is worse than waiting for my job interview," I said.

"Everything will be fine. I think Gabriella is easy to talk to and explain things to, based on what Willie has told us," Meynard said.

My fingers drummed a frantic tattoo on the dashboard, each tap echoing the pounding of my heart, a rhythm that mirrored the anxiety churning within me. I inhaled deeply, trying to quell the storm of nerves that raged within me, but the air felt thick with anticipation, each breath a struggle against the rising tide of unease. I imagined the meeting unfolding in a series of worst-case scenarios, each one more disastrous than the last, a dark cloud of doubt hanging over me like a suffocating shroud.

The car was quiet, except for the soft music playing from Meynard's playlists. He had Lany's playlist on, and it was a nice distraction. Earlier, uncle Manuel had called to say he was on his way. I still couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong, that this meeting would be a disaster. I knew this whole situation was difficult, but we had to face it head-on so we could finally move on.

"Hopefully," I mumbled.

"You can do this, kuya. Remember you're not alone in this. We're here for you, so don't worry. This problem is almost over. The only thing we need to think about after today is Ma'am Barbs. But for now, don't think about that so you can calm down," Meynard said, trying to reassure me.

"Okay."

I knew he wasn't convinced by my answer because he sighed and shook his head. I turned my attention out the window, watching the scenery blur by. We were heading straight to one of the most popular restaurants in Guiguinto, Bulacan, located along the highway. Willie had suggested it because they had private huts where we could eat, giving us privacy for our conversation.

When we arrived, the place was beautiful and airy. There were small huts, just like Willie had described, spaced out nicely, perfect for us. The air was fresh, and I liked the place. A staff member greeted us, and we told them we needed a hut and ordered food to be ready when they arrived. We hadn't seen Willie and Gabie yet, but they were supposed to be there first. To make sure they knew we were here and to let Willie know we were ready, I asked Meynard to call him because I couldn't handle talking when I was feeling so overwhelmed.

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