D*mn You, Amber

*****

FROM: [e-mail]

TO: [e-mail]

SUBJECT: Where are you?

Dad, How are you? Why aren't you answering my calls? The guy you asked your guards to bring here is doing well. He was feverish last night and was babbling incoherently. Your guards get Doctor Liza here every night, but they couldn't last night. It was raining hard, and Julio called in, telling us that the bridge they had to pass through broke. You shouldn't be worrying too much, though, because the guy's fever went down at around three in the morning after I gave him a sponge bath.

*****

MARGAUX'S FINGERS FROZE from typing on her laptop. She blinked a couple of times as she reread the last seven words of her email. Then, as if something had woken her with a slap, her eyes widened, and she began banging on the keyboard's backspace key anxiously.

She rewrote, 'After our maid, Alberta, gave him a sponge bath.'

 She then cunningly looked at the old woman, who was busy chopping salad greens on the kitchen counter, calculating if she had noticed the lie she had just typed. She shook her head and tried to turn her attention back to her email.

‘I shouldn’t have done that. I should have called Alberta to do it.' Irritably, Margaux closed her laptop upon realizing that she couldn’t type at all. One of her hands reached for her head and began massaging her temples. As if it wasn’t enough, she grabbed the cup nearby and drank her coffee in one go. She couldn’t care less if the coffee was still hot. She badly needed a wake-up call.

It had been a week since they had come to that villa. Although she had a hard time recognizing the old house, she realized that it was indeed her mother’s villa when they came in. Their dusty family portrait was still hanging in the entrance hall. It was as if it had been waiting for her to come back for so long.

Alberta, her nanny, showed up the following day. Then, in the afternoon, the guards brought in Liza, the doctor from the previous night. Margaux could tell that it was her, despite the paper bag on her head. She remembered her hospital uniform and the blouse she was wearing under her doctor’s coat.

She couldn’t have been more relieved to see the doctor alive. However, she still couldn’t do anything when the guards dragged her blindly to Amber Eyes’ room.

"Amber Eyes," she unconsciously breathed out.

Days had passed, and she could still feel his warm body on her back. The sponge bath incident last night didn’t help her forget about him at all.

She was halfway through the corridor last night when her feet mindlessly stopped before his room. She didn’t know what made her do it, but she ended up opening his door.

That was when all these crazy emotions started. She found him alone in his room, delirious and burning with fever. With no one with them there but her maid and two other guards, she did what she thought was right. She attended to him.

Margaux bit her bottom lip upon remembering how perfect he felt under the wet towel. How her fingers run through his mid-brown hair, chest, tight abs, and...

"For the love of God! Stop!" she blurted out unconsciously.

"Margaux!  "What's wrong with you?"

Shame instantly flooded Margaux when her sight caught Alberta’s wondering stare. She blinked multiple times, bowed her head, and silently wished for their dinner table to eat her until she was gone.

"Are you sick? You look pale."

"N-no. I’m okay." Margaux stammered. She then cleared her throat and took a bite of her French toast, trying to act normal. She felt worse than a child caught stealing cookies. For Pete’s sake! How was she supposed to tell the old woman that her mind had nothing on it right now but a man’s delectable chest?

She honestly didn’t want to think about him anymore, but her mind just wouldn’t stop. ‘I should not have seen you. I should not have touched you. I should not have dared to save you—‘

"Margaux!"

"H-huh?" Margaux jerked in her seat. Then she turned to the old woman, whose face was still frazzled.

"Are you even listening?" Alberta’s frowning face crunched more, making her age line heavily visible. "I said, your papa has just called. He wanted to know how the man he sent here was doing. He asked if he was recovering well, etc. I told him he was alright and—"

"Did he ask about me?" Margaux cut Alberta off with an anticipatory voice.

However, hearing Margaux’s excitement made Alberta go silent for a while. The old woman bit into her bread and then forked some salad from her plate, acting as if she didn’t hear anyone.

Margaux noticed how Alberta dodged her question. Thus, she snorted and pressed, "I’m asking you a question, Alberta."

Realizing that she had no choice but to answer, the old woman looked at her before shaking her head.

"You mean not even once?" asked Margaux in an irritated tone.

"Not once," Alberta echoed. She then smiled understandingly at Margaux and tried to change the topic, "How was your stay in New York? Are you on vacation? You’re supposed to graduate this year, right?"

"I’m not graduating, I got expelled," answered Margaux apathetically. She was still dwelling over how her father hadn’t asked about her. Didn’t he care about his daughter at all? How dare he ask about another person and then forget about her?

She was utterly out of mood when the sound of a fork shattering against a plate suddenly echoed inside the dining room, followed by the old woman’s bombarding voice. "What? How did you get expelled? You are supposed to be graduating this year! What did you do?"

Caught unguarded, Margaux looked at her nanny blankly. Her lips opened and closed as if she were about to say something, but then she ended up shutting up.

Alberta has been her guardian since she was a child. She was the one who raised her and had only been separated from her when she flew to New York City. However, were those things enough for Alberta to question her like this? Margaux knew that Alberta wouldn’t even want to take care of her if her father wasn’t paying! The only reason Alberta was acting as if she cared was that she was paid.

Feeling compelled to defend herself, Margaux raised her chin and asked, "Who are you to reprimand me? Have you forgotten who you are?"

She flicked her last word on her tongue insultingly, making sure to remind Alberta where to stand. Then she watched how Alberta’s face switched from mad to sad and then, finally, unreadable.

The air was suddenly cracking between them, and the pressure was getting alarming.

Unable to endure the heavy atmosphere around them anymore, Margaux slammed her hand against the table, picked up her laptop, and then wordlessly bolted out of the dining room.

.

.

.

A FEW MINUTES LATER, Margaux found herself on top of a familiar hill. She opened her eyes slowly before rolling to her side. She cracked a smile and looked down at the gold-colored field below the hill. It had been so long since she last saw the place, and she never knew she missed it until today.

Raising her thumb in the air, she playfully measured how big those people working on the farm were compared to her finger. She then did a free-fall to the ground, sending some dried leaves flying everywhere. Although it was raining like crazy last night, the sun was scorching the whole day, drying the leaves that were carpeting the ground. She inhaled deeply and enjoyed how nostalgic the whole place smelled.

Margaux then sat down and grabbed her laptop. She stood up and briskly walked towards the lone tree on that hilltop.

Looking up, she saw an old treehouse attached to one of the tree’s huge branches. It looked battered and dirty, with some of its wooden parts falling off. Its paint was chipped, and it was easy to tell that the tiny house had seen better days. Nonetheless, just the sight of it made Margaux smile again.

It was her childhood treehouse!

Alicia gave it to her on her fourth birthday. That was the very same year that she started dreaming of being a ballerina, just like her mother. She used to play here with Alicia all day. This was where Alicia taught her to dance to various music, and she performed her very first dance piece. More so, this was also the same place where her mother taught her how to wait for someone who had no plans to return.

‘Papa’s just busy,’ her mother always said. Growing up with Alicia beside her, she had always been jealous of other kids. Why are other fathers coming home to their families every day? Why was her father not coming home at all?

She couldn’t understand a thing back then, but Alicia did her best to make her happy. She was a hands-on mother. Although they got Alberta, Alicia preferred to take care of her personally every day. She read her stories, drove her to dance school, and played with her. She was never tired of loving her and giving her the best. For a while, Margaux thought that she didn’t need a father. Who would need Alejandro when Alicia was around?

However, something happened one day. Alicia didn’t come out of her bedroom that morning. Margaux was hungry, so she shuffled to her mother’s room. It was late, and she had already missed her dance class. She tried calling her out repeatedly from the closed door, but it was useless.

It was already past noon when the young Margaux found herself in front of the servant’s quarters. She wasn’t just hungry—she was already starving. Hearing her crying outside, the younger Alberta opened the door for her and asked what was wrong.

"Mommy’s still sleeping."

Alberta was a kind maid working in their villa. Upon hearing her, Alberta immediately scooped her up from the floor and rushed her to the kitchen. Doing her best, Alberta cooked her a super-late brunch. However, the food she served wasn’t as good as Alicia’s. Alberta also gave her a quick bath and combed her hair, but again, her ponytail wasn’t as neat as how Alicia would tie it.

Holding their maid’s hand, Margaux walked to Alicia’s room. It was Alberta who knocked on her door at that time. She could still remember how the knocks started almost soundlessly and then gradually turned into loud bangs. The next thing she remembered was Alberta fleeing quickly, leaving her perplexed at a corner.

Upon coming back, Alberta was already with two men who were both in black suits. All of them were frantic and anxious as they shouted at each other. Then they forced the room to open using a master key.

All the commotion stopped at once when the door flung open. The first thing her bright eyes landed on was Alicia’s ballerina feet—they were floating.

Her baby mind couldn’t understand how it happened, so she looked up at her mother to ask. However, Alicia’s eyes remained closed. For the first time, her mother didn’t care to answer her question, even after she pulled the hem of her dress. There was a bottle of chardonnay beside her bed, with its contents spilled on the floor, drenching what appeared to be a picture.

Later that day, Alberta explained that Alicia was never coming home anymore. Their maid even added that Alicia had turned into an angel. She had never known what angels were, so she just bobbed her baby head and tried to stop crying. All she was worried about then was who would cook her dinner since her mom wasn’t around anymore.

It took a few years for Margaux to understand what had happened. However, she couldn’t understand why someone as gracious and beautiful as her mother decided to kill herself. More so, she still didn’t know what was in the picture that pushed Alicia to her breaking point.

Reaching where her treehouse was, Margaux ran her fingers through its roughness and whispered, "I’m home."

Then, with a sad smile on her beautiful face, her fingertips flicked in a gracious pose as her feet tiptoed on the ground. She copied the fierce ballerina stance Alicia always had. After two gentle steps, her body began to twirl to the sound of rustling leaves.

She danced as Alicia did, reliving how her mother used to flow from one movement to another. She loved Alicia deeply and missed her with all her heart. However, all she could do now was to dance like Alicia taught her and, more so, to continue waiting for Alejandro to come home.

.

.

.

IT WAS PAST MIDNIGHT when Margaux came back to the villa. She was tired, starving, and dirty from all the leaves stuck on her shirt. Nevertheless, she was feeling a lot better than she was that morning.

She danced against everything she learned in school. She swayed without rules and expressed her fears through every stomp of her feet. For the first time in a long time, she felt wild and free.

She was already on her way to her bedroom when her feet unconsciously stopped before one of their guest rooms doors. Hesitantly, her hand reached for the doorknob and gave it a slow turn.

The pungent smell of medicine seeped into her nose as soon as she walked into the room. She hated how dizzying it was, but then she just shook her head to dismiss it.

"I’m back, Amber Eyes," she whispered breathlessly when her eyes landed on the man who was innocently lying in the middle of that king-sized bed. Then, with scared footsteps, she walked towards him with her eyes welded to his perfect face.

He was easily the most beautiful man she had seen. He had a sinfully sculpted body paired with a face that painters would need centuries to justify.

As if mesmerized, her trembling hand reached for the oxygen mask covering half of his face and quickly tugged it down. She closed her eyes and then, in one swift move, bent over his parted lips and kissed him carefully.

‘What the hell am I doing?’ her mind screamed. However, his lips were too sweet and inviting. Wanting to deepen the kiss, she pressed her lips harder against his and tried to open his mouth further. However, her courageous moves were suddenly halted upon hearing something—he gasped for air.

With her eyes fluttering in an instant, she instantly pulled away from him, then nervously put the oxygen mask in her hand back on his face. She stood up at once and ran to the corridor like a madwoman.

She rushed to her room and went straight to her private bathroom. Then, without further ado, she twisted the shower knob anxiously. She felt the first drop of water sizzle on her skin.

Letting her dirty shirt get drenched under the splashing water, Margaux clenched her teeth and chanted, "Damn you for making me lose my mind, Amber. Damn you!"