SHOW ME YOUR LOVE: FIREBLADE'S QUEST

D.J SERRANO’S POV

It felt so good, so freeing, to be sitting here under the night sky with Emmy. That was the first good laugh I’ve had in what felt like days. Yet, it had only been hours since I fainted at the restaurant. I had one more thing to do today, and I dreaded it. Then I looked at Emmy and smiled. ‘But at least, with her here, I can take a moment to breathe.’

I expected her to make another remark about my mental health, or say something sassy. But she just sat there in silence, a thoughtful expression etched on her face as she watched the waves.

‘M.K what are you doing out here alone?’ ‘Why do you come here every night?’ ‘Why aren’t you at home?’ I was so curious that despite the absolutely draining day I’ve had – was having – and the fact that growing up with crazy rich teenagers had made me wary of taking on the emotional burden of other people’s secrets, I opened my mouth to ask.

“Emmy, why-”

“Did he say anything?” she said at the same exact time.

“Who?”

She nudged my arm gently. “My dad.”

“He said you work too hard,” I said gently, after a moment. “He said…”

I remembered what the ghost of Chef Emilio had told me. Every word: ‘She works too hard…Trying too hard to make success in places I couldn't succeed. She's stretching herself too thin. Hasn't even had a proper meal all day. And so much anger...there's so much anger in her heart.’ How his eyes had swiveled to me. ‘Help her, D.J. Help her, please.’

“Yes? What else did he say?”

I sighed at her impatience, at the fact that it mattered to me that I didn’t hurt her feelings, at the idea that here I was getting myself tangled up in another person’s heartache and problems when I had too much of my own.

“He was worried that you haven’t really eaten all day, and he felt bad that you were stretching yourself too thing. He said you had too much anger in your heart.”

“Well, that actually sounds like my dad,” Emmy told him with a small smile, but there was pain in her eyes. “If I didn’t think you were…” she trailed off, at a loss of words.

I smirked. “Crazy? Off my rockers? Insane?”

“Disturbed,” she decided. “If I didn’t think you were so obviously disturbed, I would believe you.”

“So, it’s true?” I asked carefully.

“What, that I’m stressed and angry? You would be too if your mom cheated on your dad near the end of his life and brought you into a family that absolutely hates you. That see you as less, just because your father didn’t have money. Of course,” she shrugged, climbing up to her feet, “things are better now but sometimes, it’s clear that they still look down on me, and my dad’s dreams. Right now, my step-father’s mom is visiting, and she can be…a lot.”

I nodded slowly, thinking, ‘At least, now I know why she’s out here tonight. Why she isn’t at home, having dinner with her family.’

Her voice pulled me out of my reverie.

“You know, he left me the restaurant when he died…but he’d been sick for so long. He caught his diabetes late and didn’t treat it properly, there was so much debt and then there was the divorce. My mom had fallen in love with her rich boss in Singapore and she no longer wanted to be married to him. She hadn’t even had the decency to serve him the papers in person, she’d sent it by mail, but he still believed he could win her back. It wasn’t until she finally came, when he was laying in his deathbed that we knew she was pregnant. By then, she was already acting like a rich man’s wife. And then…everything happened and Mr. Hernandez, her husband, offered to buy the restaurant so we could settle dad’s debts. But he hasn’t done anything with it. I begged him, without my mom’s consent, I begged him to let me continue running the restaurant and he let me. If I don’t make it succeed before I go off to university next year, if I don’t return his money, he’s going to turn my father’s restaurant into a parking lot. I-I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” she admitted shakily. The words had bubbled out from some deep part of her soul, and now he could see her getting embarrassed by them. “I didn’t mean to dump this stuff on you when you were just at the hospital today, and well…I mean, it’s not as if we’re friends-”

“Ouch.” I clutched my heart dramatically. “M.K, you wound me. Why wouldn’t you think we’re friends. Of course, we’re friends.”

“Well, friends don’t leave friends hanging without a word for seven years,” she quipped shrewdly. “Do you know how many times I asked Lalanita about you? Especially when my step-father moved up here? Do you know how many holidays I wasted waiting for you to visit, like you promised you would?”

I smiled as I reached out and held her hand. “Do you know how many things I told you when we were ten that I’ve never ever told anybody else? Help me up.”

She scoffed and pulled me to my feet.

“Where are we going?” she asked with a note of alarm when I steered her in the direction of my grandmother’s villa.

“We are going to eat dinner.”

I tightened my grip on her hand as she started to pull away.

“You haven’t had a proper meal all day, and Lalanita made a feast.” I’d made up my mind. Her father had asked me to help her and obviously, the first step to so that was to feed her. I’d look into her problems with her restaurant later. I didn’t think it would be helpful to tell someone as willful as Emmy any of this, so I kept it to myself. A big part of the reason was the fact that I was starting to think I liked her so much that even if her father’s ghost hadn’t begged me to help her, I would have done so anyway. Eventually.

“Just eat dinner with me, what’s the worst that could happen?” I noticed the way her hand trembled but said nothing about it.

“You could be a serial killer,” she piped up with false humor.

“Well if I was, wouldn’t it be a little dumb of me to start killing off my neighbors?”

She shook her head with sympathy. “You don’t watch a lot of crime shows, do you? They always start with their neighbors.”

“Hmm,” I pretended to reason deeply. “Must be why they get caught. Rule Number 1 of business, never shit where you eat,” I rattled off. Instantly, a chill slithered up my spine as I realized I’d just quoted something my father used to say verbatim. Why the hell would I do something like that?

It was Emmy’s turn to tighten her grip on me. “D.J, what is it?”

The warmth of her hand firmly squeezing mine was enough to pull me off the tracks of my disastrous train of thought. “Nothing. Let’s go and eat. Are you allergic to anything?”

“No. I just…” she sighed. “I just don’t like to eat.”

Ten minutes later, I found out that when Emmy said that she didn’t like to eat, it was an understatement. Lalanita had indeed made a feast. Like my mother and me, my grandmother liked to seek solace in the kitchen, in the act of cooking for others whenever she was troubled. She’d been cooking since we’d arrived home without Enrique, so there was more than enough to eat. Naturally, I would have joined her in the kitchen but between the both of us, the mood had been so heavy that I’d thought it best to seek my peace elsewhere.

At the beach.

Now, I sat across Emmy at my grandmother’s dining table and watched her move her adobo around her plate with her fork, chatting animatedly to disguise the fact that she was barely eating.

With a frown, I leaned over and piled more meat to her plate. “Eat more.”

She raised a brow. “I don’t think I can. I had too much excitement today with you fainting and your brother accusing me of harming you. And now, you’re acting weird.”

I narrowed my eyes at her suspiciously. “Hmm.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll pack the rest home with me. I won’t waste it,” she assured, forked a piece of meat into her mouth and sighed like it was the most heavenly thing she had ever tasted in her life. “Lalanita, you need to share this recipe with me. This is absolutely delicious!”

“It’s an old family recipe,” my grandmother said, beaming.

But my mind was already working. I hadn’t seen her eating a lot during lunch today. And after school, I’d gone directly to her father’s restaurant, so she wouldn’t have had much time to eat anything, would she? Did Emmy have problems eating food?

I watched her rave about my grandmother’s cooking and decided that she was putting on too much of a show. The question was, was she doing it just to please my grandmother or was to hide the fact that she wasn’t enjoying eating her meal?

“Well, if you marry my grandson, I’ll teach it to you,” my grandmother said with matchmaking mischief twinkling in her eyes.

Emmy almost choked. Heck, I almost choked.

As I chugged down water to clear my throat, and Emmy started laughing, my grandmother just laughed. “I’m joking, I’m only joking! Let me leave you two alone. I need to hunt down Ignacio and beg him to deliver Rico’s dinner to him. I’m worried that that boy would sleep on an empty stomach if I let him be.”

“Lalanita?” I asked quickly. “Can I go with him?”

I’d been planning to meet up with Enrique anyway. I needed to tell him things I didn’t want Lalanita to hear. Not after everything we’d already put her through today. With Enrique, things were different; he needed to know everything I’d remembered as soon as possible. He needed to know that someone had murdered our mother, and tried to erase our family.

EMMY MENDOZA’S POV

I saw a shadow pass over Lalanita’s face as soon as D.J spoke. And I felt uneasy, not just because of whatever unspoken thing was going on between them, but also at the fact that he’d just offered to leave almost as soon as his grandmother had said anything about me marrying him.

‘What the hell is wrong with the idea of me marrying him?’ I wondered silently, a little bit miffed. ‘Is the thought so off-putting that it make him want to flee?’

“D.J…the doctor asked you to rest, and it’s late,” his grandmother said wearily, and a little uneasily. Whatever it was they weren’t saying must be quite heavy indeed.

But then he said, “I’m not going to school tomorrow, so there’ll be plenty of time for rest and sleep. I don’t want Enrique to be alone tonight, Lalanita. He tends to overthink too many things.”

His grandmother sighed. “The two of you-”

“We’ll be fine,” he reassured her. “Just let Ignacio know I’ll be going with him. I want to walk Emmy home first-”

“Oh no!” I cut in at this point. “You don’t have to do that for me.”

“Emmy, I insist. Don’t fight me on this,” he stated firmly. “Lalanita, where do you put your Tupperware? Emmy wants to take her adobo home.”

“Seriously, D.J. Highlander Estate is completely safe and I can find the way to my own front door-”

“Just let the boy walk you home!” Lalanita said exasperatedly. “Ah, girls of nowadays! Always wanting to do everything by themselves! Back in my day, if a strong and decent good-looking boy invites you over to his grandmother’s house for dinner and offers to walk you home, you let him! Carla, please get these two a Tupperware!” she called to one of the maids in the house. “And tell Ignacio that D.J will be going with him.”

That was how I found myself walking back home with D.J Serrano.

He held the Tupperware of adobo for me.

“I can do that.” I tried to grab it but he moved it out of my reach.

“As if,” he scoffed. “As if I’d let you. You know, Emmy, I don’t think you’ve noticed but my mother raised me to be a complete gentleman.”

I rolled my eyes at him. But I had nothing to say to that. Then I remembered something.

“You said you won’t be coming to school tomorrow.”

He nodded. “That’s right.”

“Do you think…” I hesitated. “Would you like me bring you lesson notes and assignments after school tomorrow?”

“What about the restaurant?”

“Oh, I have someone that’ll watch it for me. My godparents and their son help me out sometimes, especially in the mornings and early afternoons. They’re usually available on Tuesdays. I usually use the time to study with Sara. Hey! Maybe we can do it at your place tomorrow.”

“Do what?” He watched me curiously.

“Study,” I said.

“Emmy…it’s the first week of school,” he began slowly. “Exactly how much is there to study?”

I crossed my arms, feeling slightly attacked. “It’s exactly that kind of thinking that gets people in trouble when exams come around. There’s no need to wait for the work to pile up. I mean, just today alone, did you see how much we covered? St. Lorenzo’s is no joke, you know!”

He placed a comforting hand on my back and patted me. “I hear you, nerd.”

I glared at him. “Sometimes, you really annoy me.”

“Yes, yes. But I think you like me.”

I shook my head at him, trying to pretend that he wasn’t right about that.

When we reached the gates of my step-father’s mansion, he handed the Tupperware to me and brought out his phone. “Can I have your number?”

I don’t know what it was but something about the simple question made my heart sing. Trying not to sound too excited, I rattled off the numbers to him. When he saved my name as ‘M.K’ I didn’t say anything. But I wondered at the innocence of the childhood nickname and memories that had brought us to this place of unexpected ease.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

He smiled and said, “Goodnight, Emmy.”

I wanted to watch him walk away, but he seemed determined to watch me go in. So I did. I let him win, praying that he couldn’t see how nervous and giddy I felt just because he was watching me.

The Hernandezs were watching TV in the living room when I walked in. A quick glance at the sofas, and I saw my mother laughing at something her new mother-in-law was saying, trying to be the perfect daughter-in-law. The evil twins were engrossed in their phones and whatever show they were watching at the same time. My step-father was away on business again, and if I had to guess, Eduardo was off in bed as it was way past his bedtime.

“Hello, everyone,” I said, and immediately began to climb up the stairs.

Merry and Noelle ignored me.

“Emmy! Where have you been?” My mother asked.

“Did you check the time, young lady?” Her mother-in-law bellowed with outrage. “Mikayla, you’ve let this girl run wild. Is this the time she’s supposed to be coming in? If you let her continue like this, without discipline, my granddaughters will soon start copying her and I’ll have no one but you to blame.”

I would have simply run up to my room and slammed the door without giving them a reply. But today was a special day. D.J Serrano had asked for my number and held my hand. He had walked me home and called me a nerd, even though that had pissed me off.

I was seeing him again tomorrow, the boy who had been my crush for so many years.

Yes, I was in a good mood and so, I could be gracious.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Madam Luisa. Mom…Madam Anita invited me to her place for dinner. I forgot to tell you.”

The old woman’s ears pricked at that. Even the twins looked up in surprise at my polite tone. “Madam Anita? That woman whose daughter married into the Serrano family?”

“Yes, ma’am. She asked me to give her warm regards to the family,” I added for good measure. Technically, it was a lie. But it was one of those lies they would have a really hard time proving. Because I did eat dinner at Lalanita’s place, even though it was her grandson who had invited me.