Chapter 127 - The Sound and the Fury (1/2)

Gabriel is seething with rage. And indescribable pain. He doesn't know what to feel about it, really. He feels betrayed, but the sense of betrayal tears him apart with internal conflict as the betrayer is a person he deeply loves, perhaps the only one who only knows him, the other half of his existence.

He has known about Miguel's so-called advances, but he knew his brother—or he thought he knew him. He thought Miguel would stop. That those things his people were reporting to him were just Miguel being playful—he had known Migs to be ”naughty” with women, and he's never been serious with any of them. And so the seemingly ”earnest” pleas to Claire for a date, that tantrum at the rooftop party, the sometimes excessive attention he showers on her—he had done the same things with other women, and it all ended with him walking away, like nothing ever mattered. Miguel was all sound and fury, signifying nothing. Gabriel has been hearing things, and he was confident Miguel would wake up and just stop. In fact, the supposed lunch date with the three of them—it was Gabriel's subtle ploy to watch the dynamics between Miguel and Claire, and try to see how he could help hasten to end Miguel's infatuation.

But now this—Claire telling her what Miguel did. To be honest, he couldn't believe it—but he won't say it out loud for fear of aggravating Claire's feelings. And while he knows Miguel, he also knows Claire—she wouldn't make up a story just for whatever self-serving purpose.

That's why Gabriel is deeply torn—his love for these two most important people in his life is tearing his heart to shreds. His rage is more directed inward that toward Miguel, his little brother, whose major fault is to become obsessed with the very woman he, himself, has been obsessed with, only that he's the lucky one to have been chosen by Claire.

How does he even begin to solve it? Gabriel gazes at Claire, and he sees that old fear. And something else, that same confusion he also feels about the whole situation.

If this wasn't Miguel, this would be easy. He'd rain down on him with all the might of his empire. With all his political clout. But Miguel's family, and for the first time in a long time, Gabriel realizes he doesn't know what to do.

Gabriel has stopped howling; he has slumped on the floor, beside the broken furniture, and his eyes are bloodshot, like he wants to cry but couldn't.

Sam the puppy approaches him, making those little crying sounds as though she's concerned about him, and gingerly, Sam crawls towards him, her little tail wagging. Despite what he feels, he opens his arms and Sam excitedly jumps into them. She showers him with kisses.

Claire watches this scene quietly. This would have been a happy, cute, memorable moment. But now they're all hanging in uncertainty.

”Do we have to break up?” Claire softly says. ”Do I have to leave, go far away, so Miguel can forget about me?”

Gabriel makes a bitter smile. ”So that I could forget about you, too? I can't let that happen. You could just kill me now.”

”But what should we do? Can we talk to him?”

”I've been trying to talk to him, Claire. Ever since I came out of the hospital. The way he'd look at you. But maybe it was my fault. I was in denial. I convinced myself that this was the old Miguel I've always known—he likes you one moment, he feels nothing the next. That's why I never gave way. You're mine. I know how he has looked after me all these years. I know what kind of sacrifice Michelle Alcantara was for him.” Gabriel stops; he brushes his hand softly on Sam's fur and looks away as he tries to hide his tears from Claire. But it was no use. ”There's this old Spanish film. There's a scene where there's some sort of theater performance. On the stage is a woman, and all before her were furniture and chairs and what-not. Her eyes are closed, like she's sleepwalking, and as she sort of sashays across the stage, like she's half-dancing, half-sleepwalking, there's this other man who knocks over every piece of furniture in her way. She doesn't know he's doing it because her eyes are closed, but the man still does his job, whether her eyes are closed or open. He does it so that the woman will not stumble or get hurt.” Gabriel sniffles like a child. ”I remember watching that film and crying over that scene. It wasn't even an important scene, but I cried. The man was like Miguel, and I was that woman with her eyes closed, dancing across that stage. I owed him so much. That's why I was in denial. I couldn't believe that the Miguel I knew no longer exists; here's a different man, a man that surprises me and hurts me and causes me so much pain. And the worst thing is I don't know if I could still reach him and talk to him.”