"Why don't you guys get inside and have some warm cocoa or something?" Standing by the door, Eric invited us as cordially as he wanted it to appear. He stepped outside with open arms and a grin sketched on his quite stricken face.

He looked very much distraught rather than surprised to see both of us together, and he was brilliant at keeping it that way. But he should know it never fooled me, not even the first time. His eyes, though with dreamy sparkles swirling inside, were sad and disappointed.

The whole pretending-to-be-okay was poorly executed, that I began to think he'd actually have real feelings for me. After all, Eric had always been a very bad liar.

But I really hope I'm mistaken, because Eric to me, is and will always be my childhood best friend; and nothing more.

And the last thing I want to do is to see my best friend hurt.

"No, it's okay, Eric. Nathan was just about to leave," I said, chuckling awkwardly as I shoved Nathan with my elbow as an indication for him to leave.

"Already? You've already spent half a day with him, Avery. Not that it's the first time. What's another hour for breakfast?"

"What do you say, Trevmore?" He asked, "I believe you and I got a lot to catch up on." Eric slowly walked towards Nathan and he looked at him straight in the eye, as if summoning him to a duel with an earnest sight.

"It's alright, Ric. It's all good. I'm not very hungry, anyway."

"I insist," Eric said.

And just like that, the momentary shot of happiness, although enjoyed not for the purest reasons and the right intentions, was replaced by a more permanent feeling that eagerly pushed itself to come out of the surface — guilt.

Assuming the worst that was bound to happen, I glared at Eric the whole time, praying he wasn't planning to do anything stupid. I tried to get a hold of Nathan before we got inside, in case I could do something to change his mind, but his ego was bruised, and there's no way I could've convinced him otherwise.

Pride is what makes a man a man. Without it, he wouldn't be able to shield himself from the forces that can make him appear weak.

Wrapped around Eric's finger, we went inside the mansion and had breakfast with him as he wished. All of us sat around the table, obviously waiting for someone to say a word. Our emotions were heavily mixed up inside the nooks of our concealed versions of truth, and along every second that passed, the pressure to speak what we truly feel inside became even greater to bear.

"Avery... Lydia's told me something very interesting," Eric said, drinking from his cup of coffee.

"Since when do you and Lydia talk?" I asked, slicing the scrambled eggs.

"Since I've gone to check on them to see what was taking her too long to attend to my orders."

I coughed. "That doesn't sound like Lydia at all. Lydia's kind, initiative, and focused on her job."

"You're right. I definitely agree," he said, impaling the sausage with his fork, "Lydia is focused on her job, until you know, she learned how to keep secrets from me."

As he stood up, he walked around the table. It was utterly visible in his eyes —- the anger that he's been keeping to himself. Gritting his teeth, he was breaking inside and the powdered rage was consuming him from inside out.

"And of course, after a couple of threats, Lydia finally told me what she and the others were too busy doing," he said, "I'm impressed with their loyalty by you, Avery. I really am."

"It took some time for them to finally tell me what they were hiding in their filthy little aprons. And then it kind of hit me," he snapped his finger, "the kitchen was a mess because you played chef and baked a pie. What was it? Oh — right, a blueberry pie. And even without asking them who that pie was for, I knew it wasn't for me because obviously, their faces were all too terrified if it were for me, and the second reason is, I fucking hate blueberry pies."

"Gee... I wonder who that pie was for. I wonder who's the lucky guy whom you spent hours in the kitchen for, going all through that trouble just to make a pie so bad, that even beggars whom had nothing to eat for days deliberately refuse to take even a pinch."

"I'd be insulted if that was actually made for me, to be honest," he said, walking around, "because it tasted like roadkill."

Just listening to him throwing insults to hurt me intentionally made me feel that he has gone farther and farther away from me. He turned into this monster that had lost control of his thoughts. The horror of unexpressed anger spread like an illness throughout his soul. After what I had witnessed, I reckoned he was now a completely different person.

"Hey, hey. That's enough," Nathan stood up and smothered him down.

"I bet that guy must've been very special, right, Avery? More special than your own husband, I suppose?"

"You've made your point, Eric. Stop it already," I said, raising my voice.

"Have I? I'm just getting started."

I took a quick glimpse at Nathan sitting idly beside me to see if he's provoked in any way. The last thing I want to see is two grown-up men, both at the peak of their emotions, lash out at one another violently.

Fortunately, Nathan appeared to be composed and merely watching over my husband speaking ill to everyone but himself. However, I still needed to make sure neither of them would break at some point, so I held his hand and said, "Ignore him, Nate. Just ignore him."

"I'm good right here. He's the one who needs a little restraint," said Nathan, staring intently at Eric.

"Eric, calm down," I said.

"What is all this, man? Why don't you tell me what your problem is?" Nathan asked.

"I'm glad you ask, friend," Eric said, emphasizing the last word that possibly meant a lot to him. "I was just wondering if you'd still be able to sneak in here and trespass once I throw you in jail."

"Jail? Eric, what are you talking about? No one's going to jail," I said, feeling confused of everything he said.

"Did you think I was too naive not to know about your recent visits here in my house, asshole?" Eric slowly walked towards Nathan, provoking him into picking a fight. Both stares were intense; so intense that these intimate stares spoke for the rage that's about to be unleashed inside both of them.

"Got that from Lydia too. You'd be surprised to know how much she knows and keeps from her boss. It's a pity if her children wouldn't make it to college."

"She's my wife, Nathan. You do understand that, right?"

"Crystal."

"So why don't you back off?"

"Sorry, friend, but that's not very easy to do."

Eric smirked and looked at me. "Have you told him yet?"

"Tell him what?" I asked.

"That you and I are going to be a family!" Eric laughed devilishly.

"...Family? You — you're pregnant?" Nathan gazed at me straight in the eyes; struck with utter confusion and humiliation.

"No! No, of course not! I —"

"Well, not yet. But I just couldn't wait until I hit her from behind while she's sleeping."

It was all happening too fast. Eric wasn't able to say his next words, not even to flinch, when the next thing he saw was a metal-like, flying knuckle approaching swiftly to his face.

He dropped down to the floor with a searing pain in his jaw. When he noticed that he fell on the ground, Eric touched his face and felt the whirring pain of an uppercut; leaving his hands spotty with a little spat of blood.

Screaming, I ran hurriedly between them to halt further acts of violence. "You, guys, stop. Both of you, stop! You're acting like children!"

"If you love her so much as you say you do, then let her go. Because if that's how you treat her while she's stuck in this fake ass marriage with you, you're not gonna live to go to her first doctor's appointment," Nathan said, pointing at Eric beneath him, and then he went straight to the door.

As soon as Nathan left, I finally had the chance to confront Eric with his rather violent behavior.

"What the hell was that, Eric? What is wrong with you?"

He scoffed. "Why don't you ask that to yourself? Believe me, I've lost count on how many times I've questioned your choices."

He wiped the blood dripping from his mouth and asked, "Why did you marry me?"

"There you go again with that stupid question! We already talked about this."

"I'm sick of you seeing the worst in me, Avery. I'm sick of you not loving me enough."

"How could I possibly love you after everything?"

"I've loved you since the first time we've been introduced to with one another. And you know you did too, at one point. Why do you keep lying to yourself?"

"Eric, we were just kids back then! Whatever you may have felt before, there is a very huge possibility that none of it is true."

"Exactly, our long years of friendship gives me more of an advantage than someone you've met for a couple of years."

"Love isn't about which one has the better advantage, Eric. It's about appreciating the person and being vulnerable towards that person without having to fear anything because you love the person, because you have faith in him. You feel this zen, this energy to make him happy, and you don't feel tired while doing so because it doesn't feel exhausting like it's a job you're paid to do. You make the person you love happy like it's an instinct, because you want to see him happy. And —"

I stopped as I got a sense of the words being uttered by my mouth. It sprung unto me like a dynamite blowing inside my head, and all of a sudden the word hypocrite appeared before my eyes. A hypocrite is what I had become.

"I...uh, I need some air," I said, clearing my throat.

I dismissed myself from Eric and told our driver to take me to my parents' mansion. There was only one person I wanted to talk to about all this, despite the grudge I've been keeping from her for so long, and it was no other than my very own mother.

Setting my pride aside, I knocked on the door. It came as a sweet surprise to me to see her open the door for me. And as dramatic as it seemed, I cried in front of my mother; not any longer could I hold it. "Mom," I said, sobbing quietly, "I really need you right now."

"I know, sweetheart. I know." She gave me a long, loving embrace.

We sat down on the couch and she cupped my face like she used to do when I cried. Suddenly, my heart felt more open to her; the hatred that once blocked her from entering has gone away.

"Why don't you tell me what you really want?" She said, patting my head gently.

"I...want to be happy."

"Avery, you have everything everyone could only dream of."

"Why do people always think that?"

"I want to live life the way it's meant to be lived. I don't want to be up on a high horse all the time. I want to experience everything life has to offer, mom. All the pain, the betrayal, the rejection —— I want to feel them all deeply."

"And you think feeling all those will make you happy?"

"I guess."

"So this," her eyes roamed around the room, "all of this doesn't make you happy?"

"It does. Of course, it does. It just doesn't last." She looked at me with water in her eyes.

"Forget it. You wouldn't understand anyway," I said, wiping my tears.

"That's where you're wrong."

"Trust me when I say I've been in your place when I was at your age, younger even. And boy was I confused, and perhaps, at one point, lost. Two men perfect and imperfect in their own ways, but there's something special in each one of them that you just can't let go of. You want both of them in your life, but at the same time, you don't want to because you know they deserve far better than being dragged along for too long," she said.

"And the worst part is the promising ability to be with someone you choose, and do all you can to not lose the other one you didn't choose."

"One day, darling, eventually, you need to make a choice."

"Why are you talking like that? Like this is all too recent, like the wounds you felt still haven't healed..."

"Because they haven't."

"Wha—- So... What about... you and dad? Aren't you happy?"

"As I said, I've been in your place."

"Everything I've ever done is for you, Avery. That's all you need to remember."

As Audrey had told me, my mom loved Julian. She loved him too much that she had two beautiful daughters with him. But, like any other relationship, they had imperfections. And one of those insecurities has led my mother to leave him and save me, so she married William.

And now, as her daughter, I am married to a rich man when it's completely transparent that I'm in love to someone else.

I have held a grudge on my mother all my life, only to end up just like her. I have broken my own reflection, my own blood; and judged her for choices I am bound to do in my lifetime.

Do I take back all that I've done and separate myself from the rails that will lead me to the same path as hers so I could make my own fate?

Or do I simply have to let things pass by and wait until my daughter does exactly the same things I did?