Grief |2|

Tristan slammed the brakes as he felt he was far enough from Summer's place. Unaware of where he at, he got out of his car and walked toward the edge of the road.

The surroundings were quiet. No one was there. Only him on a lonely road overlooking the sea.

Tristan felt the coldness of the breeze while staring at the calm sea. Then, the memories of Summer flipped in his mind.

From the time he met her to every moment they spent together. Memories they created and the feelings formed in them.

Something within him wanted to burst out—reminiscing each of it, Tristan was tormented.

He felt awful... So grievous.

"Why?" Tristan couldn't hold it back anymore. It was too painful. His chest tightened. He wanted to burst. He wanted to explode.

"Why?" Tristan clenched his fist. "Why?"

Liquids slowly blurred his vision.

"Why... Why! WHY!! AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

He shouted at the top of his lungs, pouring all his agony out. Tears fell nonstop from his dejected eyes. With his chest crumbled in pain and heavy breaths, Tristan slumped to the ground.

Clasping the amount of dust on the ground, he questioned whoever was above. Why was he so cruel? Why? Why was this happening to him?

Summer became his haven. Despite all those heart-rending happenings in his life, Summer was his rest. For at least, there was something right happened to him. At least, there was someone who filled what was lacking in him.

But, why? Why did he take her away from him? What did he ever do wrong to experience this miserable life?

"Please." Tristan sobbed. "Give her back to me... Please."

His voice was shaking, his cheeks were getting wet. "GIVE HER BACK TO ME!"

Tristan was looking at the gloomy sky, talking to the one who was in heaven. "I just... I just want to be happy. I want to feel loved. Is that too much to ask?"

Tristan lowered his head, bawling. His heart was aching to the point that he kept punching his chest. "Don't... Don't take her. Please, not her... Please."

Tristan closed his eyes—hoping that this was just a long nightmare. Tristan made himself believe once he woke up, Summer would be there smiling at him. None of these was real. Summer was alive. She didn't leave. She was just around.

But, no matter how many times he closed and opened his eyes, nothing changed. He was still on the ground. Summer wasn't around.

Tristan shed tears. His sobs were louder than before. His pain was unmeasurable. He felt as if he was buried six feet under. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't take it. He couldn't handle it.

Again, Tristan screamed his heart out. He crouched as he wailed, not minding the dirt clinging to his clothes. He was just screaming and screaming until his throat became raspy.

He didn't care if someone saw him. He ignored everything. He was only aware of his misery.

If he only knew, he hoped he didn't leave. He should've stayed beside her. He should've spent every second with her. He should've held her tight.

Regret enveloped him. Those unsaid words and feelings, he should've told her. Even though he was under Trish's name, he should've shown her how much he loved her. He should've expressed it all. Despite the fear and contemplation, he should've taken the risk.

"Y-You're so unfair," Tristan mumbled with a hoarse voice. "How cruel you might be?"

Tristan lay down and stared at the sky, crying. "You told me you'll always be by my side no matter what. Why did you leave me, Summer?"

.

.

.

Trish anxiously glanced at the door and her phone. It was around 8 in the evening and Tristan was still not home. He left suddenly that they didn't even get to ask where he would go.

"Did he answer?" Trish asked Tanya as she dialed Tristan's phone.

Tanya just shook her head. "I think his phone was off."

"Goodness. What happened to him?" Trish worriedly massaged her forehead. Whifler tapped her shoulder, comforting her.

"Don't worry too much. I know he's safe somewhere. He might just be venting. Trust him. He will come back."

Trish just nodded, still, she couldn't stop worrying.

They all jolted up as the door opened, expecting it would be Tristan. But, their eyes widened as she came in.

"M-Ma'am, Sharrie." Tanya stammered, looking at her sour expression.

"Good evening, Mrs. Fuentavilla," Whifler bowed. Trish was too stunned to speak. She knew right away why would her mother come at this hour.

"M-Mom... I thought you're—" Trish was cut off when Sharrie raised a brown envelope and threw it to the floor.

"Explain everything to me!" Sharrie told, anger was obvious in her tone.

Trish picked up the envelope and read what was inside. Yes, she was right. It was her medical test result.

Trish closed the envelope and looked at her mother. "What do you want to hear, mom?"

"Everything! You've recovered a long time ago, why did you lie?!" Sharrie raged. Trish just looked at Whifler and Tanya.

"Please. Leave us for a while," she told which they followed immediately. Trish turned her gaze back to her mother.

"Mom. I don't want to be a model."

Sharrie was stupefied. "What?"

"I don't want to be a model anymore. I want to pursue what I truly want. My passion. I want it—"

"WHAT NONSENSE ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" Sharrie exclaimed, cutting off Trish's sentence. "No! I will never allow that!"

Trish's eyes rounded, hearing what her mother said. "MOM! Listen to me just this once!"

"No! You're the one who should listen to me! You know how much you helped the company, and you should continue helping the company out!"

"But, I don't want it! I can't do this anymore! This is not what I wanted. This is not what I like to do!"

Sharrie chuckled. "So, what do you want then? That useless painting of yours? Sketching craps?! Drawing shits?! Wake up, Trish! You know why we were accepted into this family. Keep that in mind!"

"But—"

"Stop it, Trish! I don't want to hear any of your complaints. You will continue your duty no matter what! Enough of your pointless passion. Mind what you should do! Help the company. End of conversation!"

"MOM!"

"I am being patient with you, Trish. Don't provoke me." Trish was lost in words. She was dumbfounded by her mother's words. Her mother was too intimidating.

"Starting tomorrow, Tristan will no longer take over your responsibilities. Just do what I say, Trish. This is for your own good. For all of us." Sharrie added, then she left to talk to Whifler.

Trish drooped to the couch. She couldn't believe what just her mother said.

Trish closed her fist as a single tear fell from her left eye. "Why won't she be considerate? What am I? I wasn't just a random employee, right? I am her daughter!"

"Damn. How unfortunate. I'm really powerless, don't I? Was I born to be a puppet?" Trish bitterly chuckled.

She looked at the door as it creaked open. Her eyes widened as he saw Tristan coming in.

"My goodness! What happened to you?" Trish rushed to check on Tristan who was like just pulled out from a grave. His clothes were too grubby, his hair was messy and his eyes were swollen.

Trish felt a bit pang on her chest. "Tristan. What happened?"

Her soft voice made Tristan look at her. "Nothing. I'm tired."

Tristan instantly headed to his room, leaving Trish worrying. 'This. This is what I'm more scared of.'