She turns to him.
The night is as darkest as ever, but for Miss Mijares, the man is a sunrise—a new beginning. She looks straight into his eyes, feeling her cheeks trembling; her face swollen, full of deep emotion and passion. There was a pinch of confusion as well.
Inch by inch, their faces are getting closer, but as Miss Mijares examines the eyes of the boy, she feels wary: the hint of an eyelid twitching and the sudden bend of an eyebrow. The man feels the same.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
The man had enough burden unto himself to reveal himself. Working to suffice the needs of his son and losing his father, which made him the breadwinner of the family, has forced the man to stay inside; a perfect reflection of Miss Mijares, although uncertain.
“Sarah,” the man says.
The last drops splash onto the pavement, making the lights of the familiar buildings glow from the concrete and soil. The noise from the overflowing esteros is still intact but less.
It is that very night of confusion, she thought.
“You said you want a wife,” she points out.
“Yes, but I remarked that I will eventually marry a woman… at the right time.”
“For many years, I have exerted sweat for others. I didn’t have the time to be with someone who understands me. I felt so lonely.”
“I felt lonely, too.”
From the words of her mother, she remembers how sometimes in life, you just have to accept, and so she did.
(A continuation of The Virgin by Kerima Polotan Tuvera, a paper for PHILITS class)