Author's Note:

One shouldn't only know the beauty of a rose but also the prick of its thorns.

🌹

"Heaven, I need to talk to you!"

Heaven stared at my breathless state, probably contemplating whether I deserve his time after breaking his favorite cousin's heart. The silence between us was cut in by the incessant ringing of my phone but I ignored it, not really caring if I ditch yet another laboratory class because without Oreo, all of those years of working hard for my degree would be nothing. It's like I was stripped of the will to continue the things I used to love doing thinking that my girl was oceans away while bearing the thought that I do not want a future with her.

"Great, now I do not need to go look for you." His tone has been ceremonial since the day I messed up my chance with Oreo. "Why don't we go someplace where we can talk? Oreo wants me to return something to you."

My chest throbbed even harder with what I heard, already guessing what it was that Oreo wanted to give back that my last veil of hope was starting to shatter to pieces.

"I do not think my feet still has the will to move." I rasped before he could turn away and he faced me with a raised eyebrow. "We can talk here."

Yes. Here. In the lobby of the architectural department where uncaring strangers sauntered around us, their movement carrying a cold wisp of air that stabs me from every direction. I do not need a comfortable place to hear yet another reason of my heartbreak. Funny enough, of a heartbreak that I caused myself. Because really, would anywhere be comfortable without my girl? Bring her to me and I'll tell you that even the noisiest corner in the world is the most relaxing place as long as she's with me.

He reached something from the pocket of his overcoat, his movement waking me from my painful trance just so I have a moment to prepare to slip down another harrowing daze. He grasped out in an open palm where an unfamiliar tiny blue velvet box lies yet my fainting heart already knew that what's inside can finally bring me the final strike.

"Please, send it back to her." My voice collapsed in a pathetic quiver. He eyed the velvet box on his palm, fisted it around the thing then shove it in my chest making my left shoulder jolt whilst my feet remained still against the floor.

"She doesn't need this anymore."

"I need her." I grated, and the gaze he directed me was sharp as if challenging me to provoke him further but I never backed down, looking straightly at the piercing loathe in his eyes.

"Isn't it too late to realize that now?" He challenged. "What if she doesn't want you back anymore?"

"Then I'll pursue her forever." I replied without hesitation and he watched my expression then slowly dropped his hand but his penetrating scrutiny remained.

"I'm aware that you know she's out of the country now. What makes you think I'll divulge where specifically her whereabout is?" His brow flickered in challenge.

"What makes you think I have no means to search the entire Korean peninsula for her?"

"Fucking Kalliste." He simpered venomously, and I wasn't surprised anymore that he knew more than he should. "I thought you hate your family's guts. You using them now to get what you want?"

"Can you blame a desperate man?" I answered him with another question making him smirk. He doesn't need to know that I have my own money to exhaust searching for every possible corner of South Korea where Oreo's possibly at. We stood there for a moment, weighing each other's gazes until his shoulder moved when he heaved a resigned breath.

"Give this moment to herself. She needs to learn not to make anyone the center of her world."

"She is to me."

"And you know self- control. She clearly doesn't." He emphasized in a hard tone making me freeze in my spot. He reached for my hand and forced the velvet box on my palm, the small package weighing a ton against my shaky hand. He pocketed his hands and regarded me coldly. "You're aware that she'll come rushing to you the moment she sees even just a strand of your hair. So, I'm asking you this, man- to- man, Vitto. At least give her time to love herself again."

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Staring into space, my tormenting stupor was severed by the relentless buzzing from my front door. I blinked, as if I was woken from years of restless sleep, the sound from the entrance vibrating in the hollow corner of my head traveling down to clobber the distended part of my chest that only one person can mend. My phone then vibrated into life, lighting up as a message notification pops up together with the notice of unreceived calls from Brail and my Pa, and there, behind all the notifs was Oreo's beautiful face smiling at me. I weakly picked the phone in my study desk where a framed picture of Oreo and me sat, her eyes looking at me as if I was the most beautiful creation in the world that I hoped she could see herself through my eyes so I could prove her how she was wrong. Can I ask God to let her see through mine for a day so she'll see the reason why I love her so much, then she'll learn to love herself again and there'll be no reason for me to wait anymore?

"What the heck is wrong with you, Vitto?!"

I put my phone back to the desk and rose from my seat, turning to face my Pa who looked more worried than incensed. He stared at me in confusion as I robotically take steps toward him to reach for his right hand, bringing his slightly folded palm against my forehead for a greeting.

"A, your son surely knows how to show respect for the elderly despite becoming a zombie." I lifted my head to look at the owner of the voice and I found my Pa's youngest brother who's only five years older than me, staring back with an amused smirk.

"Hey, doc." I clipped a greeting then mindlessly proceeded to the kitchen to get them some drinks.

"Why weren't you answering my calls?" My Pa followed me to the kitchen to continue nagging.

"I don't even get why there's a need to dramatically pummel on his doorbell when you clearly have your own key, kuya Nevan." I heard uncle Rune drone from the background.

"To show my son that I respect his privacy and obviously to show you that making known of your presence is necessary when you visit someone's house, Rune. What the heck did I even think asking you to come with me?" My Pa complained as I stare at the fridge, forgetting what I was intending to do in the first place. With my brain in haze, my eyes dropped to the pack of kale remembering how Oreo began liking to eat them when I made it into chips by dehydrating it. Should I make one for her?

"Why would I knock when I go to my own brother's house?" Uncle Rune grumbled, "It's us, the scorned sons that should stick together 'til the end."

I thoughtlessly plucked a knife from the shelf and it slipped down my grasp, its blade brushed against one of my fingers and I just stared blankly as blood started to drip on the marble countertop. But it isn't my nicked finger that hurts, but the empty space in my chest that throbbed so badly I only want to close my eyes and put an end to this.

"What is wrong with you, Vitto?" I heard my Pa yelled, something that's really unusual of him. He was fast to approach me, grabbing my bloody hand to put it under the running water. "Rune, close your freaking mouth for a moment and get the first- aid kit fast!" He swiped a handful of paper towel and pressed it against my cut to stop the bleeding. "Bud, are you sick? Why don't you tell your Pa what's going on?" Worry in his voice notched but I only soullessly gaped at my hand, unaware that I was shedding tears if only they weren't fast to fall, their exit painful against the side of my eyes creating a salty trail down my lips.

I pathetically looked at my father as the pain tightened around my throat like a vice. "P- Pa, w- what should I do? I— I need her back."

"Bud?" Pa looked at me helplessly, realization dawned on his face, and it only added to my suffering knowing he cannot do anything to bring Oreo back to me. I didn't expect a sob to come out and my Pa's jaw tightened, his eyes showing the same expression when I'd caught a nasty flu when I was six that I have to be admitted in the hospital.

"I— I miss her, Pa." I rasped, my voice faint as if it has no will to come out anymore. "I miss her so much."

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

NEVAN ALONZO'S POINT- OF- VIEW

I thought I suffered from the most terrible heartbreak when Brianna, the only woman who was able to settle my playful heart, had suddenly changed heart telling me that what we had was an awful mistake she will have to regret the rest of her life. And it wasn't enough that she left me asking for scrapes once she made me fall for her so bad that she also turned her back to the most precious gift which our fleeting love had formed. It didn't destroy me even an ounce when my father disowned me for choosing to raise my son, my own flesh and blood, whom he wanted to get rid off to maintain the unsoiled reputation of Alonzo's in Isabela. It was really that day, that terrible night when my six-year-old son was asking in his small weak voice why his papa was crying.

"Your Pa's crying because I wasn't able to fight the bad guy for you, bud."

"Don't be silly, papa. Flu is an infection, not a guy. And I'm strong, papa. I will grow fast so I could take care of you, too."

I thought it was the last words I'd hear from my son. And I didn't have any idea how I'd proceed with life if I'd lost him. Being a coward that I was, I even planned my own death in the event that my little Vitto wouldn't make it alive. He's been admitted for five days and his platelets continued to drop. My mind was a whole chaos of its own, thinking of the worst possible scenario because without my son, would I be left with any reason to live? But my son was a fighter and I couldn't be any more thankful to God for giving me my son, a miracle's embodiment. He survived the abysmal years of living with his mom's family, the reason why I kept on wishing for time to come back so I could protect him from the darkness of their world. He doesn't deserve any of the rotten things he's experienced in that household. But he survived, he's had it hard but he overcame it although it took some part of him. And looking at him right now, this woman who he learned to love seemed to have taken all part of him with her...

"This is the first I saw him like this." I managed to mutter as my brother exited Vitto's bedroom and head straight to slump in the sofa across me in this tiny living room. Money's not an issue anymore. I can afford a better unit but my son's not someone who appreciates luxury. I saved enough money working as a medicinal chemist in US and started a farming business in the province when I settled back for Vitto. The business has been booming, providing us more than enough that even my forthcoming great grandchildren will never worry about their future. I have bought a house in White Plains hoping that I could convince him to move there but to no avail. Considering that even Vitto, in his young age, has already his own money from the investments he started when he was just in high school from the money I put in his account monthly, I doubt if my genius son would ever ask me for a dime.

Being a young, first- time dad, I thought it was normal for a one-month-old baby to be able to lift his own head. It was until he was five-month-old that I started wondering whether it's natural for a 20-week-old toddler to say his first word. He was self- critical at a very young age, solving equations at three and memorizing the whole periodic table and their atomic properties and masses at four. It's no wonder that he was able to figure out how the stock market works at 12, but he was a lonely child, and I thought it was because of his intellectual difference with other kids his age that makes him isolated. But turned out, I and his mom had a huge contribution on it.

"If you really love her, bud, then why did you let her go?"

"Because I'm scared that I'd mess this up. What if I end up giving her what you and mother had?"

"Our bud has gotten it bad. I haven't even seen any picture of us in his room at home but his girl's face is everywhere in this tiny unit." Rune's voice woke me from my trance and I watched him in daze as he placed the first aid kit on the coffee table, staring at his wrist watch before leaning back in his seat. "Have to force feed him his meds at 3. Hopefully his temperature has lowered by then."

"They were supposed to spend the Christmas break at home." I voiced out my thoughts.

"Judging by how bad he's taking it, I can say that they've broken up."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows against my knees to run my palms over my face. "This is probably my fault."

"Jesus, bro. Not everything revolves around you. Stop with your main character syndrome, will you?" Give it to my stupid brother to tease even in moments like this that I wonder how his patients are taking him seriously.

"Why don't you just leave and chase the first flight back to US? My head is already pounding as it is and you're making it worse." I massaged my throbbing temples.

He smirked, reaching for the bottled water in the middle of the table to hand it to me. I swiped it from him and twisted the lid, gulping enough to ease the parching of my throat. I don't think I have it in me to see my son suffer like this.

"He's a grown- up, kuya. Probably more grown up than we are. Leave it to him to figure this out on his own." It was rare for my brother to talk decently like this.

"You cannot blame me for acting like this. I only want to protect my son. But how am I going to do it with the kind of person that I am?"

My brother smirked but it doesn't hide the urgency of his tone. "You are a good person, alright? Did you already forget that aside from the madam, you are the only person that accepted me despite being the young help's bastard son?"

"You are my brother." I clipped, not liking the direction of our conversation. He smiled, and I can sense the bitter aftertaste of it.

"You cannot change the fact that I am also Governor Alonzo's dirty secret. Our family has had skeletons in our closets we've been trying to hide until now. But we figured how these shits couldn't get way with how we want to live our lives. And that makes us strong, isn't it? We've fought our demons to be what we are today. Why don't you allow Vitto to realize that it's not totally his parents that hold his relationship back but also his fear that despite how smart he is, he will not always get the perfect score in his relationship the way he always expects to have a hundred percent in his exams?"

I tiredly expelled a breath, reaching for my temples again to massage them. "You know how your nephew's brain work. He wouldn't believe what Science couldn't explain."

"Unless he follows his heart."

"You think he would?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Kuya, he's been openly admitting how bad she's fallen for the girl. The only thing he has to do now is to learn that being a prodigy doesn't exempt you from the reality that not everything can be succeeded in the first attempt. Our bud has to know that in love, the sweetest fruit comes from hard labor."