"What?" She was not expecting such a question. Why would he even ask her that? It was not important, was it?"It's a…a friend, back in South Africa.""So, why do you act up all of a sudden, when this friend of yours call?" Alex asked. He was beginning to suspect that she was hiding something."It's nothing, guys. I lost connection with him, so I was surprised to see his call," she realized what she said did not actually make sense, as she had been declining his calls. "Plus, we had a fight, that is why I refused to answer the phone."Somehow, Jayden felt like she was hiding something, but he did not want to pester her too much. It was her life, anyways. Even if they were best of friends, and worked together, they were entitled to their own private life, and they could not intrude on their privacy."Let's continue. Who is next?" Jayden said. They did the number style, again; summed up to be Annabelle's turn. Again."Me, again?" She exclaimed, glancing at the two guys."Not like we che

A luxurious car drove in to the parking lot, as the Fernando's household—except Jayden and Alex, as they had gone to the office, stood outside to welcome him.Fernando stood beside his brother, Lukas, as they awaited his arrival.The man in his late 40's, dressed in an elegant lawn green suit, and with his usual top hat, and walking stick, stepped out of the car.He had not change that much, since the last time they saw him. He still looked, and dressed the same way, just a little advancement in his body, as he was growing in age."Welcome back, Sir."The workers chorused, and beamed excitedly, because they knew he had brought them some goodies. He waved at them with a smile plastered on his face."That's Mr. Fernando's brother. He had travelled for years, and has returned. I'm sure he's brought us the usual goodies," one of the cleaners said to the other workers, who had not seen him before."Take the things from the trunk, and share amongst yourselves," he said, pointing at the car

Peter tried to call her again, but it was no longer reachable. It was at this point, he knew he lost her. If only he had insisted on sending Rita away, when Imelda had brought her in, then, this would never have happened. How was he going to tell his brothers that his wife left him with their daughter, because she had seen him in bed with someone else, which happened to be a misunderstanding?What was he going to do? After years of wooing her, she finally accepted, and now? It all went down the drain.He tried to call her again, but with another number.He prayed that she would answer the phone, because he needed to clear the misunderstanding. His prayer was answered, but not as he wanted it to end."Peter, do not call me! Isn't your mistress available, today? Was I really nothing to you? You kept lying to me, all this time; it's over, now. You have Rita. Let my daughter and I have peace," she said."Imelda, you're wrong. It… it's just a misunderstanding, whatever she told you isn't

He followed them to the table, where they ate chicken, and vegetable salad. He managed to act along, while his eyes roamed around the room they were in, trying to find the slightest evidence he could, to confirm his suspicion that she had come here.His instinct never failed. He had a strong feeling that Imelda was in the house. Intellectually, there was no where she could go, if not her parent's house. "Do you enjoy the food?" The woman asked."Oh, yes. I do. It's delicious," he replied, still scanning the room.While they were busy eating, and laughing over the table, Melvin tried to communicate with him, without getting caught. Smart Fernando noticed his intense gaze on him, and turned to find Melvin staring at him.He arched his brow, in a way that seemed like he was asking him what the problem was.Melvin told him to wait.He feigned to have a cough, in order to leave the table. It was somewhat like a rule that no one leaves the table, until they finished their food."Excuse me,

Peter drove back home, looking upset. He took a bottle of whiskey and ice, and poured it into a glass cup. Not minding how strong the alcoholic content was, and how much it burned the throat of anyone who drank it, he gulped the whole content at a go.The sharp pain he felt in his throat was not enough to compare to the pain he felt in his heart. He poured, yet, another drink into his glass, and took it in a gulp. It felt really nice to him—like he was drinking a glass of juice. The more glasses of whiskey and ice he drank, the more tipsy he became. The thought of Imelda leaving him, because of some misunderstanding that could be settled, if she had waited; made him feel bittered.The thought of not seeing his precious little princess anymore made his stomach churn. He was mad at himself. If only he had insisted that Rita should leave the house, then, maybe this would not have happened.He had several thoughts running through his mind. Who would cheat on his wife, and sleep off, upo