George was no stranger to difficult situations, but this—this—was a new level of torture.
He had been doing his best to ignore the whispers, the stares, and the ridiculous rumors flying around about him being caught between two women. But none of that compared to the real danger he was facing.
His struggle wasn’t just with keeping his thoughts in check—it was with keeping himself in control.
Because as much as he wanted to pretend otherwise, he couldn’t ignore what was happening.
Vivian, who had latched onto his arm from the moment they arrived at school, seemed to have zero regard for personal space. Every time they walked, turned a corner, or even sat down, she somehow managed to press against him in ways that sent all kinds of alarm bells ringing in his head.
At first, he thought it was just accidental. The tight hallways, the crowded classrooms—maybe it was just unfortunate positioning.
But by the fourth time? When he felt the unmistakable softness of—No, no, do not go there, George!
He clenched his jaw, forcibly redirecting his thoughts elsewhere.
Numbers. Equations. Stock prices. The price of land per square meter in the metro. Think of anything but that.
But the universe was not on his side.
Because just as he thought he had gained some control, a new problem arose.
Eliana.
She, too, was holding onto him—though her grip was far more subtle, far more reserved. Yet, every once in a while, whenever she leaned in to whisper something or pulled him along to another class, he felt her presence just as much.
And unlike Vivian, this wasn’t something he could brush off as an accident.
This was Eliana.
His mind was a battlefield, waging war between restraint and awareness.
And the worst part?
He had no idea if either of them was doing this intentionally.
George had been battling with his own thoughts all day, but this—this was the breaking point.
No matter how much he tried to shut his mind down, it slipped through.
El’s… is bigger… and softer.
The moment the words echoed in his thoughts, his entire body tensed. A wave of horror crashed over him.
No, no, no—why, brain?!
And then, the worst possible thing happened.
Eliana smiled.
Her amusement practically radiated off her as she glanced at him, her voice slipping into his mind like silk.
Haa… I still can’t answer your question yet. Can you give me some time? But don’t worry—I will.
She paused, then her teasing tone struck like lightning.
And you know… bigger and softer is good for a baby.
George’s soul left his body.
His composure shattered.
His face burned as he jerked away, barely restraining the sheer panic racing through him. He didn’t even think—his body just moved.
With a sudden force—but careful not to hurt either of them—he freed himself from their grip, spun on his heel, and stormed off.
“Eliana,” he gritted out, voice rough. “Vivian.”
And with that, he bolted to his car.
The doors slammed shut, and within seconds, his driver sped away.
Vivian smirked, watching him flee like a man escaping doom. “Well, well… someone’s got a guilty conscience.”
Eliana, on the other hand, simply exhaled, shaking her head. She had definitely pushed him too far.
Then, her phone buzzed. A message.
George: Don’t dwell on it too much. Take care of yourself first. Prioritize your health. Whatever you decide, I’ll accept it—but don’t stress over it. Just… focus on you, okay?
Eliana stared at the words, feeling warmth spread through her chest.
He might have run away in embarrassment, but deep down, George was still George.
She smiled softly to herself and tucked her phone away, whispering, “Idiot.” Then, without another word, she turned and walked home.
As Eliana walked the familiar path to her home, her mind spiraled into a tangled mess of thoughts. The night air was cool against her skin, but inside, she felt warm—too warm.
She had only meant to tease George, to get a reaction out of him, but now she was the one struggling with the weight of her own words.
Pregnancy. School. Marriage.
Each thought struck her like ripples in a pond, spreading further than she expected.
At first, the idea of balancing school and pregnancy seemed absurd. The stares, the judgment, the physical toll—could she really handle it? She had dreams, ambitions, things she wanted to achieve before even thinking about raising a child.
Would I have to give all that up?
Her steps slowed. A small sigh left her lips.
Then, another thought crept in—one softer, more hesitant.
But… what if it wasn’t a burden? What if it was just another path?
Her mind flickered to the many couples she had seen—people who married late, choosing careers first, only to realize too late that time had slipped away from them.
She recalled articles and statistics about women struggling to conceive in their 30s, about families with only a few years to spend with their grandchildren. In the Philippines, the average age of first-time mothers had been rising, but the risks increased with age too. Meanwhile, the life expectancy hovered around the mid-70s.
Would I regret waiting?
She tightened her grip on her phone, her heartbeat steady but thoughtful.
And then, there was George.
Despite his playful arrogance, he had changed. He wasn’t just throwing reckless words anymore. He was thinking about the future, about what it meant to truly live life to the fullest.
And if she was being honest with herself…
If I really married George… would it be so bad?
A slow realization settled into her chest—not one of fear, but something steadier.
Eliana reached her doorstep and paused, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
It’s not a decision I need to make right now, she reminded herself. But maybe… just maybe… I don’t hate the idea as much as I thought I did.
With that, she pushed open the door and stepped inside, her heart just a little lighter than before.