Chapter Text
Baran was talking.
No. Scratch that.
She’s barking orders. To Trinity.
To Trinity, the woman she just told the whole world that she’s marrying.
And she’s barking orders on how to fucking execute this goddamn thing. This woman.
Trinity’s mind was bursting with profanities even her Grandma couldn’t imagine. And that says a lot because her Lola is too much of an expert on that field. Talk about old Filipino women in the states.
Trinity is not listening to a thing that Baran was barking about. Her head was a blurry, like the tons of people passing by on the ever busy Manhattan street.
This is not how her marriage was supposed to go. This isn’t what she envisioned for her wonderful wedding to go. No. She was a woman meant to be asked for a hand in marriage, not a woman forced in marriage.
A lot of women would kill for her hand. That’s Trinity. Hell, even Parker Ellis would dedicate a whole ass coffee shop for her.
Why is she being forced to marry her bossy superior, who didn't even care about what she has to say in this set up?
The woman who doesn’t even spare her a single fucking glance.
Who treats her like she’s replaceable.
“Hey, are you even listening?"
Yeah, hell no.
“I’m sorry but no. I am busy thinking about-”
Baran looked up from her phone, “The promotion thing? Real clever. I will think about it because from the looks of it, that guy inside the office completely fell for it.”
Trinity scoffed, putting her hands inside the pocket of her slacks and pinning down Baran with a look she prayed is angry enough to convey what she’s feeling right now. She’s furious “Oh no, you don’t get to think about that. It will happen, because you didn’t even give me a chance to think about whatever this is. And now, I'm probably going to face a $250,000 fine and five damn years in jail.”
Baran clicked her tongue, annoyed that things were not going her way by the way her shoulders squared and her eyes darkened a bit. She raised a brow at Trinity and when Trinity didn’t budge, she let out a sigh. “I can’t. There’s no way that is happening, Ms. Santos.”
She can’t believe this woman.
Trinity huffed a laugh, scratched her eyebrow as she thought of the words she wanted to say next and nodded to herself after. She met Baran’s eyes and smirked, “Then I’m outta here. I quit, Boss. Good luck on this deportation thing.”
She turned on her heel and started walking.
Yeah. Maybe this whole wanting to write as a dream isn’t happening anymore, the worst three years of her life. Fuck.
Maybe she’ll just go home. Or go to the Philippines.
Anywhere is better than here, at this point.
“Fine.”
It was barely audible, amidst this crowd they were in. But it’s Baran. And Trinity knows her voice, no matter the noisy crowd.
She stopped walking. Waited. And then she felt her stop behind Trinity.
“Fine, I’ll make you an editor.”
She tried so hard to stop herself from grinning, composed herself and turned to face her boss. Who looks defeated by the drop on her shoulders. First time again.
This day was filled with a lot of first times that Trinity thinks it’s not so bad to marry the witch anymore.
“I’m not waiting. Make it happen soon.” She said, injecting what she wants to assume as firm and final in her words.
“What? No-”
“Then I quit.”
“Wait. Okay. Fine.”
Trinity couldn’t help herself. A grin slowly made its way to her face.
“Then you’ll publish the manuscript I gave you.”
She’s pushing her luck. She knows that. But, hey, she’s facing jail time here. She would do anything just to make this whole thing bearable and beneficial.
Baran narrowed her eyes, her jaw tightening. Any other day and that would certainly turn Trinity on but with all this chaos happening around them just to save her ass, Trinity is not having any of that.
“Ten thousand copies -”
“No. Twenty thousand copies, first run.”
Baran looked around the area, in an attempt to prevent herself from snapping, Trinity presumed. Oh, she’s certainly getting on the withch’s nerves.
“And we will tell our engagement to my family the way I want and when I want.”
“Ms. Santos-”
“Now,” Trinity stood a little straighter, “Ask me nicely.”
Baran stared at her like she grew another head. “What does that mean?”
With the amount of annoyance in Baran’s voice, Trinity should be cowering in fear right now. But no. She will have this for herself. Again, this is not the marriage she wanted. This is not how things were supposed to go. So, the least thing she could do right now is to propose to Trinity the right way. And Trinity will make sure that this will go her way.
In this set up, it seems that she has the upper hand now. Her confidence spiked up a bit. If she can make Baran Al-Hashimi go down on her knees, she feels like she could rule the fucking world.
Trinity pointedly looked at the ground then back at Baran, “Ask me nicely to marry you, Boss.”
“Ms. Santos-” Baran said through gritted teeth, patience running thin. Too thin.
“On your knees, Ms. Al-Hashimi.”
Baran clicked her tongue. Looking around the area once again, a few passerby throwing them looks because they’re causing traffic on the streets by standing in the middle of a sidewalk. She let out a sigh, then nodded to herself.
“Fine.”
Oh, Trinity is loving this.
She raised her hand to Trinity which she accepted gladly, helped her as she went on her knees then let go. Baran Al-Hashimi, Chief Editor of The Pitt Publishing, is on her knees in the middle of a crowded Manhattan street to ask her assistant secretary’s hand in marriage. With her expensive skirt kissing the dirty ground of New York City.
What a sight to witness. People are starting to look at them, some even stopped to stare at them. Trinity doesn’t care. Baran looks determined enough to care too.
Baran looked up at her, eyes squinting in irritation mixed with the sun shining down on them. “Is this enough?”
“Yup.”
“Okay, good.”
“Now ask me.”
“Will you marry me?”
“No.”
Baran’s eyes turned into slits.
“Ask me like you mean it. Come on, pour your heart out, Boss. If this is how you ask a girl’s hand in marriage, no one is marrying you.”
“Well, it was never in my plans.”
“But now it is, so…” Trinity made a motion with her hand, telling her boss to keep going. Mockingly.
“Trinity?”
The sound of her name from Baran’s lips laced with a gentle tone sent something strange to Trinity but she brushed it off.
“Yes?”
“Sweet, darling Trinity?”
“Hmm? I’m listening.” Trinity said, tapping her ear.
“Would you please, with cherries on top, marry me?”
Trinity put a finger under her chin, tapping it lightly while acting like she was deeply thinking about it. Her act lasted for a few seconds before she took pity on the woman kneeling before her.
“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm but it’ll do. Let’s get married.” Trinity took a step back when Baran’s hand tried reaching her to stand up. “See you at the airport tomorrow.”
Then she left. Leaving a kneeling Baran behind.
The group chat was bursting when she went home. Perlah sent some tiktok links that showed Baran kneeling while proposing at Trinity in the middle of a sidewalk. Trinity giggled while saving some of them.
Perlah: Be, napaluhod mo yung bruha. (Girl, you made the witch kneel!)
Princess: Iba ka talaga, Santos. Remind me again to never get on your bad side. Ang lala mo. (You really are something, Santos. You’re the worst!)
She sent a middle finger emoji before turning her phone off. She has some packing to do.
She sent a quick message to her Mom, telling her she’ll be going home.
Seconds in folding her clothes, her phone rang.
“Yes, Nay. It’s real. I will go home.” She said the moment she answered it.
“Your witch of a boss said yes?”
Damn. She needs to remind them about not calling her that now.
“Uh- Nay?”
“Yes, anak?”
“I’m bringing someone with me.”
She heard shuffling from the other line, some words exchanged from what sounds like her little sister before her Mom responded, “Oh, that’s great. It’s Lola’s birthday anyway, they will have fun. Who are they?”
“My-” Well, psh, there’s no use lying. “My girlfriend.”
God, the things Trinity Santos does for Baran Al-Hashimi should be studied. It’s getting ridiculous.
“Susmaryosep kang bata ka. May nobya ka na at hindi ka man lang agad nagsasabi?” (Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. This kid! You have a girlfriend and you didn’t bother us telling sooner?)
“Si Ate may jowa na?” (Older sis has a girlfriend?)
“Darating sila bukas, Nay?” (Will they be arriving tomorrow?)
Trinity massaged her temples. This is all Baran’s fault but she’s the one suffering here. Can they even pull off this whole thing?
The sound of their apartment door opening and closing snapped Trinity out of her thoughts.
“Nay, my roommate’s here. I need to talk to them first. I’ll send you our flight details so you’ll know when to pick us up tomorrow.”
She hung up after so many goodbyes and take cares.
She went out of her room to find her roommate tossing his bag on the sofa. “Hey, Trin.” He saluted.
“I’m going home tomorrow. To Hawaii. You’ll have the space to yourself.” Trinity narrowed her eyes, pinning Dennis with a look. “Don’t do something stupid while I’m gone.”
Dennis looked affronted, “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
She turned around to go back inside her room when she stopped, looking over her shoulder with a small smirk. “I’m getting married, by the way.”
Trinity doesn’t how the fuck she got on the plane but here she is. Just woke up from a long needed nap. Sitting beside her boss in a plane to Hawaii. Spending an 11 hour flight with her boss is not the ideal weekend Trinity pictured days ago so she decided to dream of another world instead.
She stole glances beside her, huffing to push her bangs out of her face when Baran met her stare for a few seconds to hide her embarrassment at getting caught. She consciously wiped her cheeks to check if there’s a drool although she doesn't really drool.
She also looked down on her white boxy shirt to check for good measure. Trinity showed up at the airport hours ago looking like a normal passenger with her boxy shirt, navy blue cardigan, and corduroy pants.
Her boss, however, showed up looking like a woman from an advertisement for Dior or something. The woman didn’t look like she’ll be going on a flight to Hawaii, with sunshines and beaches. No. She looked like she would go to Paris Fashion Week with goddamn Miranda Priestly. Looking like the Chief Editor that she is with her freshly ironed, maroon custom tailored suit paired with her Louboutin.
She made Trinity look like a beggar beside her in the departure area earlier.
After a few moments of blinking and collecting herself, she pulled out the thick book from her handcarry, opening it and scanning the questions.
“So, these are the questions that INS is gonna ask us.” She flipped the pages, yawning and nodding to herself as she answered them in her mind. “Now, the good news is, I know everything about you but the bad news is you have-” She held up her hand to count with her fingers, “-four days to learn these things about me. So..” She faced Baran just in time for her to look up from her laptop. “You better start studying, Boss.”
Baran closed her laptop then grabbed the book from Trinity. She started scanning the pages too. Trinity let her be and stared out at the window. They’ve been flying for over 10 hours now. They’re nearing the airport. Fucking finally.
“You know all the answers to these questions about me?”
Trinity dragged her eyes from the view to Baran. The woman has this unreadable look in her eyes. Trinity looked away, gulping. “Scary, isn’t it?”
“A little bit.” Baran cleared her throat, “What am I allergic to?”
“No allergies, but you’re lactose intolerant." Trinity fought it, she really did, but maybe it’s the stress that comes with being forced to marry the witch of the company. “Oh wait, I think you do have an allergy. An allergy to the full spectrum of human emotion.”
“I didn’t know you could be funny.” Baran said dryly.
Trinity nodded at the window, still refusing to look at her companion. “Like I said, you have a lot to learn about me.”
She heard a few pages being flipped before it stopped, “Here’s a good one. Do I have any scars?”
That’s when Trinity’s head turned to meet Baran’s eyes, “I’m pretty sure you have a tattoo.”
“You’re pretty sure?”
“Uhuh. You had an appointment with your dermatologist two years ago, asking about a q-switched laser. I happen to know about that since I have a few tattoos of mine. You cancelled though, right?” Trinity angled her body towards her boss, staring at her intently. “What is it? Calligraphy? Tribal ink? I have a tattoo of the sun, by the way.”
“I’ve seen that, yes.” Baran nodded, her eyes darting down Trinity’s arm before turning her attention back to the book.
“Of course you do. Anyway, care to tell me what yours is? And maybe, where is it?”
“No.”
“You do realize that you have to tell me sooner or later, right?”
“No, I don’t have to.”
“They’re going to ask. My family is the nosiest bunch you’ll ever encounter.”
“We are done with that question.” Baran flipped a page again, more harshly this time. “On to another question, let me see another.”
Trinity went back to admiring the soft clouds outside with a huff, “You’re no fun.”
“Here’s one. Whose place do we stay at, mine or yours? That’s easy. Mine.” She flipped a page again.
“And why is that?”
She felt Baran’s eyes on her when she answered, “Because I live in Central Park West. You probably live in a squalid little studio apartment with stacks of yellowed penguin classics.”
Trinity glared at her, about to say something but she was cut off by the voice inside the plane.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Daniel K. Inouye International Airport in Honolulu. The local time is…”
“Honolulu? I thought we were supposed to land in Maui?” Baran asked.
Trinity shook her head, “We will have a 35 minute flight to Maui if we are to land in Honolulu.”
“Another flight?”
“Yup. It will be quick and short. I promise, you’ll like it.”
Baran, in fact, didn’t like it. She was shooting daggers at Trinity the whole ride but the younger woman pretended to appreciate the view from the window again.
Looking down on the island of Maui, Trinity felt herself beaming.
She’s home. After three damn years. Fucking finally.
Trinity heard them before she saw them. They bought the whole barangay. Alright.
“Here we go.”
She waved at them. They’re carrying cardboards with WELCOME HOME, LOVEBIRDS! And WELCOME HOME, ATE TRINITY! written on them. Jesus Christ. Counted them on her head as her jaw hurt from smiling while she pushed her luggage. She turned to look at Baran and almost burst out laughing.
The woman completely looked out of place with her shining maroon suit under the scorching heat of Maui. She was pushing a cart loaded with three luggages plus a hand carry.
“Did you bring your whole closet with you?”
Baran pinned her with a piercing glare, causing her to shut her mouth.
Her hair that was coming in soft waves earlier is now in disarray and sticking to her skin. Trinity felt bad, actually. She sighed. Well, she can never be really mean to her, right? Plus, they’re basically pretending.
Taking pity on her, she stopped walking and stepped a little closer to Baran. The older woman threw her a strange look but she raised her hand anyway, pushing some locks out of the woman’s face and nodding to herself when she managed to pull them all away from her face.
She pulled the trolley from her. “Give me that. My Lola will scold me for letting you push it alone. Take my luggage instead.” She instructed, pointing at her lone luggage with a pout. “And smile, will you? You’re meeting my family because of the marriage you forced me into.”
Trinity started walking again, cursing when the trolley took a little more force to move. God, what did she even bring? The whole office?
Her Mom was talking to the guard at the barricade, pointing at them, then the guard removed one barricade to let them pass.
Her family didn’t waste any second, immediately moving to crowd at them.
Her mom being the first one to hug her. “My sweet girl. Hello, anak ko.”
“Hi, Nanay.” Her mom hugged her even tighter when she said those words. Her brother, Tristan, took the Trolley from her.
“Hindi na makakahinga ‘yang anak mo, Beth! Akin na, ako naman. Come hug your Lola, apo.” (Your daughter won’t be able to breathe, Beth! Come on, it’s my turn.)
Trinity found herself being enveloped by another pair of arms. This time, she sagged a little in comfort. God, she missed this.
“You’ve grown a lot, young lady. Look at you.”
“It’s only been three years, Lola. You just missed me a lot.”
Her little sister, Tricia, was beaming toothily beside her mom. Clutching her doll with one hand and holding a big lollipop on the other. Trinity let go of her Lola and crouched down on her little sister’s height. The little girl launched herself at her.
“Hey, bunso. How is Ate’s little Tricia?”
Tricia shook her head, her pigtails moving with her. “I’m six. I’m not little anymore, Ate.”
Trinity pinched her cheeks. Stood up and did a fist bump with her brother. “Sup?”
Tristan grinned at her, “Sup, big sis.”
“Where’s Dad?” She asked. Although, she knows the answer already.
Her mom smiled tightly, “Oh, you know. Work. He’s busy. But he said he’ll be home for lunch.”
“Ganda ng girlfriend mo. Kaso mukhang naiinis na sa init.” (Your girlfriend is pretty. But she looks pissed off with the heat.) Tristan said to kill the silence that followed.
That snapped Trinity up, she forgot that she’s with Baran for a second.
She whipped her head and motioned for Baran to come closer, who watched the exchange with amusement in her eyes. Which disappeared as soon as Trinity’s eyes landed on her, squinting her eyes from the heat instead.
“Everyone, this is Baran Al-Hashimi.” She introduced her, “My girlfriend.” The word sounds way too foreign in her mouth and she hopes that her family didn’t notice the slight hesitation in her voice.
Trinity wished she called all of them last night and not just her Mom (and also not just a simple head’s up on their family group chat) because the next words from her Lola made her wish the ground would just swallow her whole.
“Should we call you Baran or Satan’s mistress instead? We’ve heard it both ways.” The old woman chuckled, “Actually, we heard it a lot of ways.”
“Mama!”
“Lola!”
Baran blinked. Completely taken aback by the question.
Elizabeth, Trinity’s Mom, stepped closer to Baran and smiled apologetically, “I’m sorry. She tends to joke around like that. Filipinos are funny people, you’ll get used to it soon. Hi, I’m Elizabeth, Trinity’s Mom.” Beth opened her arms for a hug but Baran just offered her a hand to shake with. Beth took the hand after a few seconds, then motioned for her kids to come closer.
Tricia went in gladly, looking up at Baran with curious eyes. “This is my youngest, Tricia.” Tristan waved behind the trolley he’s leaning on. “That’s my only son, Tristan.”
“That’s our grandmother, my husband’s Mom, Lola Lucy.”
“Hello, nice to meet you.” Baran flashed a small smile, “Thank you for having us. For having me as a part of your weekend and celebration.”
Lola Lucy waved her off gently, “Oh, that’s no problem. We are thrilled to have you. And it’s good to finally see my granddaughter home.”
Tristan butted in, “We should get going. It’s getting crowded here.”
“Oh, yes. Let’s get both of you home so you can get some rest.”
The ride was peaceful enough for Trinity.
Well, almost.
Until Baran pinched her arm, making her jump in her seat.
“Darling, you didn’t tell me about your family businesses.” Baran said through gritted teeth. The endearment felt like a warning, urging her to start explaining now. She doesn't like not knowing, after all. At work, Baran needs to know everything. Well, too damn bad, they're not at work now so Trinity doesn't really owe her anything.
“Baby,” She said, equally emphasizing the endearment while caressing the part she pinched.
Lola Lucy decided to answer for Trinity, “She was just probably being modest, dear. You will never see that kid talking about it.”
That made Baran go silent beside her. Good. A moment of peace for her troubled soul.
The only thing that could be heard inside the car was Tristan’s ipad and Tricia’s giggles as she watches her brother play games.
Trinity sighed and looked out of the window.
THE SANTOS COLLECTION
(Souvenirs and Memories)
STUDIO SANTOS
(Paintings and Portraits)
SANTOS HOTEL AND RESERVATIONS
SANTOS HARDWARE
SANTOS BREW AND PASTRIES
She’s perfectly aware that her surname is everywhere.
Her Father’s surname. Not really hers.
Suddenly, unwanted memories and unwelcomed words started ringing in her ears.
Looking back, maybe Baran is not entirely to blame for her lack of days off.
Maybe, deep inside, she doesn’t really want to go back here.