How The Love Started

They walked towards their service car garage with Peter following behind.

"Good morning, sirs!" the company drivers greeted.

Both have their own vehicles for the transport.

While Remo was on the road to the construction site, he remembered how Mayi captured his heart.

She was employed six months ago. The former secretary of the PM resigned her duties due to illness.

She applied for the job and got hired.

They made a small talk. Life goes on as they did their jobs.

Every day they saw and meet each other feeling the thrill of surprises as they go along.

One time due to heavy rain, he comes back early at the office since concrete casting on the foundation for the administration building was postponed.

He managed to catch a glimpse of Mayi behind the window sill peering over the rain which was falling down in succession.

She was running her fingers through her hair.

He looked at Mayi with eagerness and approached her.

"Is the manager already arrived?"

"Takeda San is still outside Sir. Maybe due to bad weather condition. A bit late probably." 

"Please don't call me 'Sir' especially if only the two of us. I'm allergic to that."

" O..okay"… her voice stammered while speaking.

"Call me Remo. You already knew me since your first day, right? We were introduced!"

She blushed excitedly, heart pounding.

"Why do I always get excited with him around?... OMG!" she exclaimed in her thoughts.

"S.s..sure… I'll call your first name when nobody could hear us around," she finally got back her bearing.

"But I cannot do that in the presence of the Japanese and infront our officemate --- it looks inappropriate. You're a Senior Engineer, please understand!"

She took a deep breath before returning back to her desk.

Looking back to her monitor, she began typing but her mind was flying elsewhere.

She could not concentrate.

"Okey, good. Now we understood each other!"

With a naughty smile, he left Mayi still dazed from the confrontation.

Remo returned to his seat shooting glances once in a while.

He thought that wooing a Burmese lady was like one of the track meets that he started. It was agonizing but it's worth it as long as it continued.

And immediately after the race has been done, it felt so good to have it over with.

He logs on to his laptop. Though not quite watching it, an instant message carved in.

"Ding!"

It's Astrid.

"Oh my… I almost have forgotten her!'

In a moment, he undergoes a swift decomposition after reading the message.

It was short…

"I missed you, Remo Hunter! I moved to New York this summer. It was the request from my father."

It has been seven years now that they have not seen each other. The last one when both graduated from their secondary school.

He also missed her presence.

A few years ago, she sent him a photo while trekking at the Rocky National Park in Colorado. He could not even recognize her already. She used to have a short hair and let it grow through the years.

"I'm surprised you still managed to find me theart --- I missed you too!"

His reply was shorter…

Astrid was one of the most important woman in her childhood days.

At this moment, he was trying a greater effort to grow himself become an outstanding man. A man worthy to match her background.

During that time, he did not wish to destroy the beautiful dreams of Astrid when they were younger.

Due to lack of money and his family standard living condition, he assumed the responsibility to become the head of the family and worked overseas.

But it doesn't mean it has something to do with getting rich, per se.

Because this was related to his emotional desire for the sake of his "beloved mother."

Being rich is wealth and enrichment. It often brings along happiness. With the reward that you would get --- it can boost his self-worth. 

This was one of the reasons why he dreamed for financial successes. The very same dreams that he left someone behind.

Then almost suddenly, another relationship comes along the way.

He remembered how they started all their firsts…the kiss, the petting and everything that comes to human desires…until their first sexual intimacy.

It was in the last spring of last month when he invited Mayi at noon break.

"Hey, this Sunday."

Low in voice while walking with her towards the canteen mess hall.

"When you are free, please join me visit a pagoda. Would you mind?"

It was just enough for Mayi to hear his voice.

He does not wish his intention would be heard by other people around them.

"I'd like to make an offering with the monks." he continued

Mayi was silent.

"Can you hear me?"

Mayi looked at him while her chest was whirring from a heartbeat

"I can hear you! You're so stubborn, Remo. Staff might hear us, you know?"

Obviously, Mayi understood fully well that Remo was conveniently inviting her as a simple gesture of friendship… a sign he is interested romantically!

Seriously… she actually loves the idea!

She thinks back in a moment. A chilling cold effect travelled through her bones.

"It's a Sunday so why not? Sure, I can join you!" she quips nervously and walked slowly to be separated.

"Good, I'll pick you up tomorrow morning. Or better come to my cabin avoid someone else might see you."

Actually, Mayi could not be happier.

"Seven o'clock, okay?" Remo said while walking off towards the corner of the expatriates who were taking their lunch.

Mayi nodded on her back without saying a word.

She goes over to where the designated section of eating lunch with the locals at the mess hall.

More than anybody else, he likes a man who keeps in touch with her feelings and process his emotions in a healthy way.

 It was better than letting someone control her behavior. She hates it!

And the feeling was mutual.

Remo possessed a hard chiseled good-looking face. A perfectly defined jawline, tall, stunningly handsome like a pop star when compared to a local movie star and foreign guys.

Let alone, nobody could hold a candle on his imposing personality.

It was very easy to like this man.

No wonder, the Japanese likes his presence.

She has seen his personal file, too. He was unmarried man.