My two-week wait came to an end when Philip arrived a day earlier than promised and walked into the kitchen. Till the place fell silent with no pans scratching against racks, no orders being shouted and no background searing and roasting hisses, I didn't register his presence.

Upon seeing Philip, the memory of where I stood or what I was doing was wiped off. My feet took hold of me and the only voice I heard in my head was mine.

Kiss him.

It nudged me and I flung into his muscular arms, clutching onto his back. If it was my dream, I wanted it to last long pressed to him, feeling his warmth. But it wasn't a dream and Philip's hand ran through my back several times.

I closed my eyes, feeling the impact of his touch. It soothed me, calmed me to the core and only when he pulled me up to face me, my gaze darted everywhere. I felt the need to fall back into his tender touch spell.

"How are you, my darling?" He held my arms and didn't leave, staring into my eyes as if he could see me.

Something changed in his look.

Philip was smiling. He wasn't stagnant in his stoic expressions and tilted his head, giving me a smiling wink. There, right there, my heart somersaulted in its cavity, ready to pull him into the walk-in freezer.

"I'm fine, Phil, but how did you come early?" I asked for which Philip didn't answer.

He turned and tapped at the steel table where Steve stood checking orders. Since Marcy was taking a sabbatical, Steve had stepped into the shoes of the head chef.

"Come soon," Steve chuckled as Philip walked me out of the steaming kitchen and into his office.

When I saw his empty office I remembered yesterday. The new assistant manager carried a box out with him at the end of office hours. Assuming it was work he carried home, I didn't pay much heed to it. Until now.

"You knew you were coming soon and you didn't tell me?" I moved inside the office and sat over the table.

"I wanted to surprise you, love." Philip locked and door and moved back, curling my arms around his neck and running his knuckles over my jawline. With his touch that sent tremors over my spine, my eyelids fluttered shut. I dunked into an ocean of pleasure and passion.

"Kiss me," I whispered and there wasn't a wasted moment before his lips found mine, crashing over and over till I forgot my very name or my existence.

"I missed you like crazy," Philip whispered between our tongues play before sinking in for more. I missed his touch, his taste and his smell but most of all, I missed his hold. Whenever I was wrapped around his body, I felt protected. I felt like being home.

Philip peppered me with soft kisses running his lower lip over my jaw and diving into the crook of my neck. The sensitive skin of mine rippled goosebumps over my body, journeying me to those times when between shifts, we found our way in each other's company and the warmth of our bodies.

"Phil, I have to get back. The customers wouldn't serve themselves." I had to break the spell or else I knew the impending doom. I would take him home and have my wicked way with him. Philip still didn't know the hold he had on me. I wanted to show it all.

Soft growls from the back of his throat confirmed his frustration as he lowered me from the desk, letting my dangling feet touch the ground. "Don't be late. I'm taking you to meet my parents."

"Today?" I asked, running my hand over my hat and the apron, shocked at his announcement. "Why today? I mean I'm not dressed and I have worked all day-"

"They want to meet you? I've told them so much about you that mom wants to have dinner with you... Again."

The last time Philip's family and I sat for dinner was when John and Sasha were in town. Minus them and their theatrics, I would be in the line of firing questions any parent would load up.

"Don't worry," Philip nuzzled his way into the dip of my neck as if he had waited patiently for the last two weeks to drink me up. "They already love you. It's just a formality, of sorts."

"A formality for what?"

"Of getting to see their son's girlfriend." And with that he rolled his tongue over the exposed part of my neck, trailing up needles of pleasure.

"Phil," I pulled him up, cupping his face. His eyes glistened with a newfound delight and it took the last of my inhibition strings to hold onto my rocking boat of self-control. "I'll meet with you later. I really have to go now."

Without waiting for permission, I ran back to my station with a thumping heart which for a change, didn't pulsate heavy due to my jog but the fact that I was meeting Philip's parents in my official capacity. Girlfriend - I never fathom the title would be bestowed on me the last time we met but here we were, doing everything I only could beseek to the universe.

Luke drove us up to Philip's folks' place. I took the time to narrate the days when I missed Philip the most or those when I was given a chance to work with Joseph Clementine.

By the time we reach the front porch, I'd barely scratched the surface of the first week in its entirety. Philip was a patient listener. More so when I went on my rant spree. He slipped his hand from his coat pocket and knocked on the door. Moments later, he realigned his fingers with mine, gripping them softly.

These small gestures warmed my heart and made me fall for him all over again. The dive I took in love sank me deeper but I had no regrets. Philip fit perfectly into the missing panel of the puzzle I called my heart.

The door opened and Philip and I walked in. Unlike the last time, his hand holding didn't give me jitters. It didn't make me scan the side of his face, nor was I scared to meet his family. I was ogling my man as he took me to the kitchen with a soft tug of his body.

Mrs. Fernandez walked over with her usual charming smile. Her eyes fell on our interlocked hands and it only grew wider, the corner of her eyes crinkling further.

"Come on in," she gestured towards the dimly lit kitchen.

Nostalgia rose from the back of my body as I stood near the kitchen counter, watching her garnish food and toss a smiling look towards us.

Philip snaked his arm around my waist. With an angular tilt towards him, I tried to slide it off but he didn't budge. Instead, he came from behind and seized me in his hold from behind, tucking his chin on my shoulder. Had it been a different place and time, I would have done what I'd do best. Turn around and take hold of his lips before he'd submit to not tease me further.

The place I was in restricted all my moves. Philip knew how much I cringed at public display of attention. Yet, his move was only the first in stake the claim round. Philip looked up from over my shoulder and into the area where Mrs. Fernandez assembled her stuff.

"Mom, when did you get married?"

My head dipped into the marble counter before I reeled it back. He did not just ask that!

The poised lady that was Mrs. Fernandez, smiled at her son's question before grabbing mittens and placing them carefully over both her hands.

"I got married when I fell in love. Why?" Her hooked eyebrows weren't asking for confirmation but rather a sly way of joining her son's banter.

"Nothing," he sighed, letting me off his hold-hook. I moved over the counter to help with the plating when Mr. Fernandez walked in with a spring on his feet which could only be attained if one was truly happy.

"Love," he dipped his body nearer to his wife, kissing her forehead. She closed her eyes, receiving his token of appreciation.

When he saw me near the table, he rubbed his hands together as if ready to take me on for a wrist fight. "So Daisy, let's begin. Shall we?"

I had taken a seat at the dinner table after everyone. While my plate was taken away for serving, Mr. Fernandez watched me intently from the extreme end he sat at.

I gulped half the content of my glass which was water or something else - I didn't recollect. All I felt was cold sweat breaking from the back of my neck, trailing behind in a race to reach the base.

"Begin what, Sir?" I asked, unaware of what his intentions were.

"Questions," he said so casually before rolling out a pen from his pocket and a paper from some corner of the table. "I have to interview you for my son." He looked at Philip who bobbed once.

What the hell was happening?

My feet strummed on the floor and my hand tapped the fork that remained buried under a pile of mashed potatoes. My mouth watered, trying hard to distract nausea which rose upon hearing Philip's dad wanted to interview me.

In a jerk motion, I stood up from the table, eying the painting on the back wall. "I need to use the washroom."

Dragging the chair backwards, I was well aware of my plan. Run. Run like the wind and escape.

Apologies tomorrow or never and move to a new country but right now, I had to run.

"Enough, Gabe," Mrs. Fernandez tapped at her husband's side of the table. The family tittered softly, merging into full blown laughter. "Stop teasing her like Sasha. Look at the poor girl. She's petrified."

And then I remembered. Mr. Fernandez had done this before too. He played something similar when John brought Sasha for the first time. She too did what I was about to undertake. Run. In her case, she succeeded. John had to drive around the block before finding her at a park bench, wailing.

Thankfully in my case, the curtains were pulled way beforehand.

"Sorry, kiddo." Mr. Fernandez heaved for air and tapped the tabletop. His pale face turned to a shade of crimson red before he gulped water to pacify the rising laughter riot. "It's like a rite of passage for the girls, a Fernandez tradition."

The family chucked some more. Philip leaned over to hold my hand from under the table. I shoved it away.

"Are you kidding me?" I rose. Silence befell the table and marred everyone's face.

"Daisy, dad wasn't serious. We were just-" Philip began.

"No, Philip. I almost had a heart attack." My palms crashed over my face, holding the spill of emotions so strong, they rippled faster than ever. "I can't do this." Behind the veil of my hand, I whispered.

My voice muffed even to me as I stood still, hiding away from a mere prank.

When a hand ran over my tresses, I tried to peek. The brown shoes facing my white sneakers confirmed the man.

"Daisy, I'm sorry if I hurt you. It was not my intention, kid." He patted my shoulder and kept his hand there, signing. "How can I make it alright?"

"By taking my joke lightly." I pulled off my hand cage, pointing and laughing at him. For seconds, he stood in shock with mouth wide agape while the other two members sided with me on this new laughter crusade.

"Good one." Mr. Fernandez gave me a thumbs up and walked back to his chair. "I'm mighty impressed."

With that, the dinner resumed with funny anecdotes Philip's parents shared while he held his head low, groaning whenever an unpleasant event rose.

By the end, I helped in clearing the plates and the folks did the dishes. Philip sat on the marble counter, munching on dried berries and being a useless guest.

"I want you two to come and meet us regularly," Mrs. Fernandez handed me a towel to wipe my hand. "If that's okay with you."

"Don't tempt her mom." Philip chimed in. "She'll lounge on your couch forever. She is like a vampire waiting for an invitation."

"Better than you. The only time we spend quality time was the last two-"

"Gloria," Mr. Fernandez called out and Mrs. Fernandez froze at her words.

"The last two weeks?" I confirmed, unsure if that was their reference.

"No honey," she nearly stacked my hair back which rested on my shoulder blades. "I meant a time before that when Philip spent time with us for two whole weeks before joining the restaurant business."

Oh.

I nodded, ignoring the sudden tension in the air.

After our goodbyes, while we drove back, Philip held my hand and kissed my knuckle. Pulling him closer, I rested on his chest, listening to his rhythmic heartbeats. It sang a song which only I had the right to hear.

"Darling, I hope you didn't mind the marriage joke around mom. I was just playing around." He held me close, caressing my face.

A wave of disappointment ran over. I realized it was only me who thought about a marriage and a family. Though I was comforted by the warmth of his body, the calm I felt in his embrace didn't appear. Only turmoil peeked every time I replayed his words in my mind. 

~

Do you really think Philip isn't considering marriage? 

Or was it his way of throwing Daisy off the tracks?

Let me know.