CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Emily
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Emily
“B on, how are you not freaking out?” I start, watching as Bon sits on the edge of her bed, focused on sewing her wedding gown, which is dragging a bit too long for her liking. It’s the night before her wedding, and she’s calmly making adjustments.
I can’t help but admire her composure, especially since I had expected her to be a bundle of nerves. When she first announced her decision to have the wedding at the new community hall of Magnolia Heights, I was shocked. I always pictured Bon wanting a grand, extravagant wedding, with all eyes on her as the life of the party. So, when I asked her why she chose such a modest setting, I braced myself for a passionate speech about dreams and fairytales. But she simply told me that a big wedding meant big expectations and bigger headaches. She just wanted to marry Ryan without all the fuss.
“Because, Mama Em, not everyone is uptight,” she says with a nonchalant shrug, her fingers expertly moving.
I realize she’s right. Ever since she got together with Ryan, she became grounded in reality, not caring about what others would expect of her.
I shake my head in disbelief. “You know you’re getting married tomorrow, right? This is a huge deal!”
“Of course, I do! But if I freak out, I’ll forget to enjoy it.” She shoots me a playful smile, her confidence infectious. “Instead of freaking out, be a dear and get me a glass of water.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “Fine, I’ll get you water, but I’ll still freak out in my head.”
As I step out to grab the water, I catch a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. Despite the whirlwind of emotions surrounding weddings, she remains steady. I can’t help but feel jealous. of her ability to stay calm and unbothered. I wish I could just stop my brain from overanalyzing every single thing. Even for just a day. Or ten minutes. It would be a blessing.
As I get some water, my phone buzzes with a notification: Joshua Santiago updated your shared note.
I set Bon’s glass on the counter and check our note.
I can’t help but chuckle. I make an edit on rule number four to add a ‘public kissing confirmed! - E.’ I quickly hide my smile in case he’s lurking around here. It’s his house too.
When I return with the glass, Bon’s already back to adjusting her dress, humming softly to herself. I hand her the water, and she takes a sip, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Everything okay for after the wedding?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she replies, setting the glass down on the nearby table. “Ryan says he has it all planned out, which is good, because I can’t be bothered to do all that meticulous planning.” She laughs lightly, but there’s a fondness in her tone whenever she talks about him that I’ve grown used to hearing.
She starts fiddling with the hem of her dress, smoothing out invisible wrinkles. “We’re starting to pack our stuff for the new house, too,” she adds, almost absentmindedly.
Bon and Ryan’s new house is just a few streets away from here. They had it constructed right after their engagement—a picture-perfect two-story home with a garden Bon is already imagining filling with sunflowers. She talks about it like it’s her dream come true, and I believe it is.
Bon never had responsibilities outside of herself. I don’t mean that in a bad way, I’m sure she’s had her own struggles, but she grew up with a kind of freedom I’ve only ever dreamed about—her choices were always her own. She never had to think about a sibling’s tuition fees, her mother’s medicine, or making sure the electricity wouldn’t get cut off by the end of the month. And I’m happy for her, I really am. She deserves every bit of this life she’s building, every bit of joy she’s found. But as much as I celebrate for her, there’s a not-so-quiet ache in my chest that I can’t ignore.
Because I’ve always been the opposite. My life has been measured in trade-offs, in careful calculations, in sacrifices so ingrained they don’t even feel like sacrifices anymore—just habits. I think twice before I buy new shoes, not because I don’t want them, but because my money is always better spent on something else. A savings account for emergencies. A grocery bill that can stretch a little further. A sibling’s dream that I can help fund, even if it means pushing mine to the side.
I glance at Bon, now turning to the mirror to fix her hair. She’s radiant, glowing in a way that makes me wonder if I’ll ever feel that kind of lightness. That kind of certainty that the world is yours for the taking.
It’s not jealousy. It’s not bitterness. It’s just... longing. For a moment where I don’t have to be so careful. Where I can choose something just because I want it, not because it’s the logical, responsible thing to do.
“You okay?” she asks suddenly, catching my reflection in the mirror. Her brow furrows slightly, and she tilts her head, her voice softer now. “You seem a little... I don’t know, distracted.”
I force a smile and shrug, trying to shake off the heaviness in my chest. “Yeah, just thinking about how grown-up you sound, talking about packing and houses and all that.”
She laughs, a genuine, belly-deep laugh that fills the room. “Don’t be fooled. Ryan’s doing most of the packing. I’m just pointing at boxes and telling him where to put them.”
“Well,” I say, “just let me know if you need help. I’m pretty good at pointing at boxes, too.”
She grins at me, her eyes sparkling again. “Deal.”
And just like that, the weight in my chest feels a little lighter. Bon doesn’t know it, but she’s always been my reminder that there’s more to life than responsibility. That maybe someday I can have my own version of what she’s found. Something good. Something mine.
“You know, I’ve always dreamed about this day,” Bon says after a while.
“I know. I was there for all those dreams,” I tease, leaning against the bedpost. “I’ve heard every detail at least a hundred times.”
Bon chuckles. “Exactly. And you know how we used to imagine big, extravagant weddings? You remember the ten-layer cake, the chandeliers, the over-the-top fireworks? At first, Ryan and I actually planned on doing something like that.”
I nod, vividly recalling the late-night chats where we’d envisioned her walking down an aisle lined with petals, the reception a grand affair fit for royalty. She and I had always thought bigger was better, and Bon was supposed to have the most spectacular wedding imaginable.
But now, she plops onto her bed, her eyes suddenly more sincere than I’ve ever seen them, as if she’s peeling back layers of her heart.
“But with Ryan…” She trails off, her voice soft but steady. “All of that just doesn’t matter anymore.” She smiles. “I’m not saying I lost my standards, of course,” she says. “I’m saying that the day itself isn’t the point. I just want it to be over with. I want to get married to the love of my life, go on trips, have fun, and just… be together.”
I sit beside her on the bed, placing a hand on her arm. “That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Being with the person who makes it all worth it.” I want so badly to be honest with her right now. To tell her that I’m faking it. That even when I know it’s fake, it’s making me feel things. She’s always been the person I share these things with, and it sucks that I can’t do it. It’s not just me on the line, after all.
“I really hope Kuya is that person for you, and vice versa,” Bon continues. Dammit. “At first, I was weirded out, I didn’t want to believe it. But seeing you both, especially after seeing the way you look at each other, I can’t help but feel happy for you.”
She’s seeing something that even I don’t fully understand. I want to deny it, brush it off as part of the act, but a part of me knows she’s right. Joshua does look at me differently. And, to be honest, I’ve noticed it. I’ve felt it. There’s something there—this undeniable attraction between us—but what’s the point of acknowledging it when we both know it’s temporary?
“Thanks,” I manage to say.
Bon stands up and continues to finish off her dress. After a few minutes of silence, she says, “Just promise me one thing, though,”
“Hmm?” I ask, looking up to her.
“Don’t overthink it,” she says. “Things will happen and you won’t understand them, and that’s okay. Just… let them happen, you owe it to yourself.”
I blink, caught off guard by her words. “Let them happen?” I echo, feeling the weight of what she’s saying settle in my chest. It sounds so simple when she says it, like letting go is the easiest thing in the world. But I’ve never been good at that. I’m the one who tries to have everything figured out, who likes control. And this, whatever this is between Joshua and me, feels completely out of my control.
Bon tilts her head, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Yes. You’ve spent so long being careful, Em. Trying to do everything right, trying to control every little thing. But life isn’t like that. Sometimes, you just have to let yourself feel .”
I nod slowly, though I’m not entirely sure I believe I can do it. Allowing myself to feel means I’m opening myself up to all the feelings—the good and the bad. The love and the hurt. And I can’t bring myself to risk getting hurt like that again. Besides, I have so much to worry about already. There’s my mom and my sister, who are relying on me for everything. Which brings me to my career (or lack thereof) that I badly need to support them. There’s my impending homelessness when I return to New York. Everything in my life is falling apart, and I can’t add another one to that complicated mess.
“Anyhoo!” Bon suddenly chirps, back to her bubbly self. “I’m done!” She flings her dress around and twirls, her laughter brightening the room. She carefully hangs the gown on her dresser before turning to me with a mock-serious stance, hands on her hips. “If there’s one thing I’m doing traditionally, it’s getting my beauty sleep. So, while I appreciate your lovely presence tonight, Em-em, I will now retire to my chambers for my much-needed slumber,” she declares dramatically.
She disappears into the bathroom but immediately peeks back out with a grin. “You’re free to linger, though. I won’t mind if you feel the need to bask in my pre-wedding glow.”
“While I would love to watch you snore and summon the demons of hell, it’s only seven, so I’ll leave you to it.” I walk toward the bathroom and give Bon a rare hug, catching her off guard. “You’re gonna be the most beautiful bride. And you’re gonna be amazing tomorrow, just remember to breathe.”
Bon pulls back and looks at me like I’ve offended her. “Breathe?” she scoffs. “Please, I’m so calm, I’ll help you breathe.”
“Not impossible,” I say, and we both burst out laughing, the sound filling the room with warmth and familiarity. She returns to her bathroom, and I turn to leave.
As soon as I make it out of their house, my phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Miss Emily Rodriguez?” a woman says on the other line. When I confirm my identity, she continues, “This is Sarah from Parkview Properties. I’m calling about the studio apartment you inquired about in Manhattan.”
My heart skips a beat. I’ve been waiting for this call. “Yes, that’s me.”
“Well, I’m happy to inform you that the apartment on 34 th Street is available. It’s a cozy studio with lots of natural light, just a few blocks from the subway. It’s small, but perfect for one person. And if you’re still interested, we can arrange a viewing.”
Sarah continues talking about the amenities, the great location, and how quickly apartments in that neighborhood get snatched up. But I’m only half-listening. My mind is already spiraling. I know it’s going to be expensive—more than I can handle right now. What was I thinking? Moving into a studio in Manhattan? I can barely keep my head above water as it is.
“I’ll be back next week,” I say automatically, the words coming out before I can stop them. “We can do the viewing on Friday.”
“Great! I’ll put you down for Friday at three,” Sarah says brightly. The call ends, and I stare down at my phone, feeling a pit form in my stomach.
I can’t afford this. I know I can’t. Between trying to help with my sister’s schooling, managing the bills here, and barely scraping by on my own, how am I supposed to make this work? The numbers don’t add up. I’m already stretching myself too thin—what if I’m better off coming clean and staying here?
I sit on the plant box in front of the Santiagos’ house and bury my face in my hands. I don’t realize I’m quiet-screaming until I hear the familiar voice beside me.
“Well, that was a lot quieter than your last tantrum,” Joshua says, taking a seat beside me. I look up, startled. He’s watching me with his usual calm expression, one eyebrow raised, but there’s concern there too. “It’s too early in the night to be stressed out. What’s wrong, Em?”
“Ugh, everything,” I groan, dropping my hands into my lap. “I’m dreading going back to New York. I don’t want to even think about what will happen when I do.” I glance at him, and it hits me: he’s always there when I need to escape my reality. It’s like he knows when I’m spiraling and steps in before I fall apart.
Joshua tilts his head slightly, reading my expression like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to forget about it? Either way, I’m your guy.”
“Forget. Definitely,” I say. Because I can’t dwell on all that right now.
“You sure?” Joshua asks, and I nod. He leans back and smiles, that familiar mischievous look in his eyes. “Okay. Remember that red dress you were bragging about?” he asks.
I nod slowly, already curious. “Yeah, why?”
“Go wear it. I’ll meet you at your doorstep in twenty minutes.”
I blink at him, confused. “We’re going out the night before Bon and Ryan’s wedding?”
“It’s not like you’re the one getting married,” he says with a shrug. “Besides, would you rather wallow in your sadness?”
“Fine,” I say in surrender. “But you have to be ready.”
“For what?”
“To have your breath taken away,” I say playfully.
“Nice of you to assume you haven’t already done that.”