Chapter 5

"Imelda”, Freya's soft voice called out and she wrapped her college friend in a warm embrace as soon as she opened the door for them.

Noah's eyes wandered, his attention flagging as his mom and her friend shared a warm but overly long hug.

“Freya! So good to see you once again. Please come in!” Imelda, Freya's college friend, welcomed her into the house with a warm hand gesture.

With an awkward grasp, Freya clutched Noah's hand as they stepped into the house of their new host, their facial expressions etched with uncertainty. They paused in the living room, reluctant to take their seats on the couch, their bodies tense with unease.

“Please, have a seat. You're welcome to my house. Freya, who's this little boy?” Imelda asked immediately, her tone laced with curiosity.

Freya and Noah sat together on a couch with Noah snuggling tightly into Freya's arms. He clutched the sleeve of her blouse and Freya could tell that his shyness was kicking in.

"He's my son," Freya replied curtly, her tone implying a desire to terminate the subtle question-and-answer conversation. Exhausted from the strenuous journey and emotionally drained, she clearly was not in the mood to endure any form of interrogation.

Just then, Freya noticed Imelda's condescending stare at her precious son, a look that seemed to hold a mix of pity and disdain. Though she couldn't understand why Imelda would judge her or her son, her exhaustion numbed her mind, making her lazy to think about the issue further.

“He's such a lovely lad”, Imelda finally said with a short smile which Freya thought to be rather fake.

Noah looked away, staring down at his sneakers like they were more important than Imelda's face.

“So Freya, tell me, what brings you here? How's your husband? Is he aware of this rushed trip?”

Freya let out a heavy sigh on realizing that she wasn't going to escape answering those triggering questions so easily.

“Uhm…actually…it's a long story, Imelda. Desmond is not aware of this trip. I decided to take a break from him for a while”, she said simply with a firm expression to convince Imelda that she was done with the “interview”.

“A break? Why? And I thought you said you'd be staying over for a couple of days. Where's your luggage?” Imelda pressed on yet.

Freya swallowed hard, her dry throat craving relief. She wished Imelda would at least offer a glass of water before asking so many questions. Glancing at Noah, she saw the fatigue etched on his face, his tired eyes stirring her concern. He had been through a lot already, and the lack of sleep didn't help.

“I was robbed at the train station. It wasn't expected”, Freya said dryly.

“Oh my gosh! Freya! How?” Imelda exclaimed in shock.

Just then, Noah let out a loud tired yawn and rubbed his eyes.

“I can tell he's quite tired. Let me take him to his room. Then when I come back, you'll tell me everything in full, okay?” Imelda waved Noah to come and stood to her feet.

“Of course. Thank you”, Freya said with a sigh and urged Noah to go along with Imelda.

As Freya gazed blankly at the departing pair, hand in hand, a wave of guilt washed over her. Memories of her fallen friendship with Imelda resurfaced, and she couldn't help but think about how her decision to marry Desmond had driven them apart. Now, seeking Imelda's help after all these years felt like a betrayal of her own principles. The thought taunted her: was she truly shameless to be crawling back like this?

After a brief absence, Imelda returned and chose a seat next to Freya, a gentle intrusion into her thoughts.

Imelda's steady gaze met Freya's, but Freya's eyes darted away, unable to hold the intense stare. The air was thick with awkwardness as they exchanged uneasy glances, Freya's fidgeting a stark contrast to Imelda's calm demeanor.

“What happened to you, Freya? You look so lean and stressed. I thought you got married to a billionaire. Aren't your skin care products supposed to be like…you know…top notch?” Imelda pressed on, curiosity imprinted on her face and a hint of criticism hidden in her tone.

Freya let out a defeated sigh and shook her head slowly.

“Imelda. Not all that glitters is gold”, she simply said, staring into space.

“So that Desmond hasn't been treating you right? Why haven't you divorced him yet?”

Freya rolled her eyes and shut them afterwards, clearly tired of Imelda's questions.

“Girl, what are you waiting for? Get a divorce and half his assets are yours! You're gonna be filthy rich!” Imelda yelled in what Freya believed to be excitement.

Freya's eyes widened in disbelief as she studied her old friend, astonished by the prioritization of wealth and material possessions over her own well-being. She had expected empathy and a deeper inquiry into her emotional, mental and physical state but instead, Imelda's focus lay elsewhere.

“It's not as easy as it sounds, Imelda. Please, can we not talk about that?” Freya pleaded in a low respectful tone.

Imelda gave an understanding nod and let out a sigh. They went silent once again, the two of them avoiding eye contact with each other.

A moment of awkward silence passed and just then, Imelda cleared her throat to speak.

“Look, Freya, I actually don't want to sound rude or give you that “I-told-you-so” vibe but I can't help it. I mean, look at you! You're miserable! I warned you, didn't I? I knew Desmond was trouble and I told you not to get married to him. You were so stubborn and you insisted on marrying him and now look at you. You even gave that maniac a child!” Imelda blurted in rage, her chest heaving intensely.

Freya's lips parted in a soft gasp, shocked by Imelda's sudden outburst. Tears welled up in her eyes and she sniffed so hard to fight the embarrassing tears back.

“Let me guess, you married him for his money, didn't you? You were blinded by his billions and that's why you ghosted me!” Imelda went on, raising her tone the more.

“Imelda! That's enough!” Freya voiced out, her voice cracked with pain and a sprinkle of anger.

Imelda, whose mouth was open like she was about to utter one more word, paused abruptly and shut her mouth immediately on Freya's demand, letting out an aggressive snort.

“I never married Desmond because of his financial status or wealth or anything like that and you assuming stuff is just so hurtful. Please, don't jump into such conclusions. I never meant to ghost you or cut ties with you, which I didn't, but I was just so young and immature then. I really thought Desmond loved me and he forced me to cut ties with most of my friends including you. I'm so sorry, Imelda”.

Finally, after her heartfelt speech, a teardrop fell from Freya's eye and crawled down her cheeks as if to lay emphasis on her sorrowful confession.

Imelda let out a loud sigh and swallowed hard, guilt creeping through her. She averted her gaze and stared into space for a few seconds before turning to look at Freya once again.

“I'm sorry if I sounded a little harsh. I just want what's best for you, you know?” Imelda apologized somewhat grudgingly with an unapologetic shrug.

Freya simply sighed and quietly wiped off the tears on her cheeks with the back of her palm.

“Feel at home, Freya, okay? This is your home too”, Imelda said softly, leaning towards Freya in an empathetic manner.

“Thank you”, Freya sniffed, looking away.

A wave of embarrassment swept through her and her ego was hurt considering the fact that she was now at the mercy of her not-so-good friend.

“How long will you be staying?” Imelda asked, her brows furrowed in anticipation.

“As soon as I get a job, we'll rent an apartment and move out of your house. Please bear with us for the meantime”, Freya replied with a pleading tone.

Imelda's intense gaze, fixed on Freya with an air of anticipation, seemed to hold a silent plea for the reassurance that no more complications would arise from her and her son. Upon hearing Freya's response, Imelda's expression transformed into a satisfied nod and a brief, strained smile, betraying a hint of relief.

“That's fair enough. Considering the way the bills have gone up, I might need a few more hands of assistance, you know?” Imelda said with a dry chuckle afterwards which Freya thought to be forced.

“I promise to help with the domestic bills in every way I can, Imelda. I really hope I'm not causing any inconvenience”, Freya said, examining Imelda's expression.

“Of course not! It's my obligation to help a friend in need. What are friends for? We're friends, aren't we?” Imelda said in a high pitched tone, one that would be considered friendly.

Freya nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her now that the awkward conversation had come to an end. It only meant that she was finally free to rest from her stressful journey.

“I'll show you your room. You and Noah will share a room”, Imelda said while standing up to her feet.

“Sure. Definitely”, Freya replied, content with Imelda's decision. She stood up as well and followed Imelda behind.

They arrived at the guest room. Imelda gently pushed the door open for Freya to get in. On the bed, Noah was snoring soundly, unaware of the troubles lurking ahead for him and his mother.

“Since you have no clothes, I'll give you some of mine. You can have a shower and change your clothes after which you'd take a nice nap. When lunch's ready, I'll come get you. Okay?”

Freya nodded in response for the umpteenth time as if eager to see Imelda leave. Imelda made her feel like a toddler who wasn't capable of thinking for herself.

Imelda curved her lips into a short smile and with that, she finally removed her presence from the room, shutting the door behind her.

Freya paused for a few seconds as if to make sure Imelda was really gone and not eavesdropping or peeping through the keyhole of the door before letting out a loud, aggressive sigh and rolling her eyes.

Perhaps, Imelda felt superior to her now that she had distanced herself from Desmond. But Freya didn't dwell on that. Her priority was her own safety and that of her son, far outweighing any desire for wealth or social status or some competition between her and her college friend. Nevertheless, Imelda's condescending demeanor still stung her, leaving a lingering discomfort.

Freya consciously shook off the negative self-talk and emerging self-doubt, closing her eyes tightly as she endeavored to reset her mindset. She made a deliberate effort to steer her mind towards more positive thoughts.

She moved towards the mirror and gazed steadily at her reflection. It seemed like Imelda’s remarks about her were true— indeed she looked lean and miserable. Dark circles were under her eyes coupled with some awful looking eye bags.

“Gosh”, she muttered under her breath, tracing her fingertips on her sharp collar bone in shock.

After coming to terms with the fact that she had lost so much weight due to the traumatic stress she suffered in the hands of Desmond, she shrugged her shoulders and walked away from the mirror, taking a careful glance at Noah on the bed.

Just in time to invade her thoughts, her phone rang. She dashed towards the table where she had placed it and picked it up.

It was an unknown number. Freya watched her phone ring for a few seconds, trying to guess who the caller could be, before finally picking up.

“Hello?” She muttered, her eyebrows knitted in curiosity.

"Madam Freya," the caller spoke, his deep voice calm and soothing.

Freya's furrowed brows relaxed, and a hint of a smile played on her lips as she recognized the familiar voice and the respectful tone in which he addressed her. The familiar title "Madam" preceding her name added a touch of warmth and courtesy, putting her at ease.

“Mr Diego?” Freya called out to be doubly sure.

“It's good to hear your voice once again”, Diego's voice came again, more soothing this time.