"Hey, are you listening to me?" Philip nudged her.

"What?" his wife asked sleepily.

"Can you scoot over? You're occupying like three-fourths of the bed here," he nudged her one more time, lifted her arms and dropped it over her chest.

"I'm tired, can you stop that?" she moaned. She was already half-asleep and he was still making a lot of noise.

He rolled her to her side and sighed in contentment. "Good, stay that way."

She rolled right back, her arm flying over his face.

"You must be kidding me, right? Look, I'm tired as well so better keep on your side of the bed or I'll make sure we'll be doing something else here."

Cassandra immediately turned away from him and pulled the comforter over her shoulder and scooted away.

"I thought you'll do that," he whispered and dropped back on the bed and closed his eyes. "Good night, babe, see you tomorrow."

"Jerk," she muttered under her breath.

*****

They left most of their suitcases in the hotel and left for Boracay the very next day. Cassandra brought with her the backpack that contained her valuables and some clothes. Philip carried a bigger bag which had some of the work he brought with him. She was not able to find any available flights directly to the island so they took the plane to Iloilo City, hired a van to take them to some place where they had to ride a pump boat to Boracay island.

By the time the boat arrived, they had to walk on water and she had asked him—loud enough for everyone on the boat to hear—if he could carry her on his back. Of course he did it. He was too conscious of everyone that looked—and still was—looking at them with amusement and awe.

"You really planned this," he said with a grunt.

"Of course I did," she chuckled on his back.

"I would love to drop you right now," he clenched his teeth.

"That will really disappoint our fellow passengers. I told them you're the perfect gentleman," she teased some more and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I'm gonna get you for this," he gritted.

"Save your breath, babe. I don't want to be embarrassed in front of so many people if you suddenly drop dead on white sand," she pushed her body up and he grunted once more. "A white man dropping dead on white sand!" she chuckled at her own wit.

When they reached dry sand, he let her slip off his back and almost fell over. It was no easy task, she knew it. She was not heavy, but she was not light either. And their bags were...well, quite some extra weight.

"Let's go," she led him to their hotel just a few paces away from the shore. It was a really great place and there were a lot of tourists like them everywhere. Restaurants and bars lined up along the shore. And outside each establishment, their knee-high tables spread out on the sand with cushions, the water just about ten steps away.

Dennis had loved this place, she thought with that constant ache in her chest. They should have gone to Palawan instead, she thought with regret. There were just too many memories here.

"You don't look good," Philip said beside her. His face was flushed from carrying her.

"I'm fine," she mumbled and walked on faster.

*****

It was Gilmer who did the reservations, so again they had to share a bed. Not that it would be much of a problem anymore.

She went straight to the sliding doors leading to the terrace overlooking the beach and breathed the salty air. Philip became busy arranging his laptop on the coffee table, folders in hand. She shrugged. He was probably way behind work, so she'd let him be for now. She walked to the bed to lie down a little bit when her phone rang.

She frowned and asked aloud, "Did you give my number to anyone?"

"No," came the short reply from her husband—he was already engrossed looking at his computer screen. "Why?"

She did not answer; instead, she punched the button to accept the call and said, "This is Cassandra Anders,"

"Strindberg," she heard Philip mutter behind her. "You're a Strindberg now."

"Cass, it's me, Harrison, where the hell are you? I've been trying to contact you." Cassandra almost dropped the phone.

"Harry?" she asked. "I—I'm out of the country right now."

"What do you mean you're out of the country?"

"I'm in the Philippines..." she trailed off. She saw Philip look at her intently over his computer. "I'm here for...work," she said the half-truth.

"When are you coming back?"

"Uhh...Saturday, I guess."

"I'll wait for you then. I'm back in town. I'll be at your house Monday morning."

"No, I won't be there," she said. Philip already told her she'd be moving in with him once they get back. "I'll call you up and we'll meet somewhere else, is that okay?"

"Who's that?" Philip asked, unable to contain his curiosity any longer. "Is that the guy who left you the message?"

"Who's that?" Harrison asked from the other line, hearing Philip's voice.

"No one," she answered both men. She turned sideways to avoid Philip's demanding gaze.

"That did not sound like no one, Cass," Harrison uttered.

Philip already got up and started walking toward her, his eyes seriously curious and pissed. "Give me the phone."

"Like hell I will," she hissed at him, covering her phone with one hand.

"Then end the call right now," he ordered.

"Who are you? My mom? Go away," she snapped.

He took a step back.

"Harry, I'll call you back when I get home, okay? I'm really busy right now."

"But—" she disconnected without saying goodbye.

She threw daggers at Philip with her eyes. "Don't ever do something like that again."

"I'm your husband and I have the right—"

"You don't have any right! You forced me into this marriage and now you're prying into my private life?"

"Your private life will also reflect mine. I told you I don't want any—"

"I very well remember what you told me, so back off. Harrison is a friend and I don't want you to ever think of interfering between me and him again. He's one person I don't ever want you to meet, so again, back off, Strindberg."

He looked at her suspiciously. His forever tousled brown hair seemed to have turned red with anger and his blue eyes were dark with contained frustration and ire. She didn't really get it why he was so afraid of her having an affair. Oh, yeah, he was a Strindberg. His name was on the line. "Why can't I meet him?" he finally asked in a flat voice.

Because of Dennis, she almost answered. "Because I want some part of my life to be mine to control without you or my father signing on it," she snapped and circled around him to walk out the door. It was one thing when Cassandra was pissed and the other when she was furious. Most people would choose the first over the latter. This time, she was really furious.

Harrison was an important part of her life—he knew everything she'd been through—and she was still struggling how she should tell him about her current situation if he would not find out before she even did now that he was back in town. Friends started to send her messages about the news of her marriage. It would not be long before Harrison would discover it too.

She knew he'd try to understand, but he'd be hurt and confused for sure.

After all, Harrison had been wooing her for quite some time now and she had been rejecting him ever since. How would he react when he found out she suddenly finally decided to get married?