No Other Woman

The main pitfall of having a friend in a happy, contented and very long term relationship was that he was already settled at home tending to his garden while his husband was busy at the kitchen or was otherwise working on his computer. He had no incentive to endure the traffic from Antipolo to Manila and battle through the MRT crowd to get to Greenbelt where our circle of friends always ended up meeting. I couldn't fault Dan for it, not really, not when I used to be the same way when Alex and I were still a couple. But we had him promise to meet us at least once a month, and we always, always held him to that promise, just as they held me to the same promise when I was still in a relationship. Sadly, this particular Saturday wasn't one of those promised days, especially because Adam was also indisposed and was at the moment playing mistress for that married man he never could seem to leave. With Nico and Lyndon both still asleep and were both working later in the evening, it was just Uno and myself as usual,  and we decided to finally visit the Ayala Museum that before then we only always passed by or saw from afar as we traversed the expensive walkways of Greenbelt.

Although it seemed callous of me to tell Uno about my dating woes given that he couldn't go on dates himself until he graduated from college, I was only too happy to find out that he was eager to hear all about them as if he was vicariously living through my stories. More than two years ago, when we first learned that he heeded his parents' order to end his relationship with Aris and to cut all ties with him, we were sorely disappointed and we thought that his parents were being very unfair. We rooted for them, and we really thought that they were good together despite their seven-year age difference. But as his mother had said to him, if they were really meant for each other then their love could wait, and my only wish for Uno was that Aris was waiting for him as we speak. As we went through all the floors of the museum, I felt relieved to have him listen to my concerns over dating two guys at the same time. He laughed and made fun of my near misses of keeping Nico in the dark about Lyndon, and expressed concern that it may not be the best decision to keep doing so. He was thrilled to hear my stories of Lyndon's naughtiness and advised that whatever happened, whether I picked Nico or Lyndon eventually, I should just enjoy my time with the both of them until I needed to make my choice.

We were sitting al fresco at the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, Uno eating his two scoops of Haagen-Dazs ice cream on a wafer cone while I sipped my Iced chai, when both our phones notified us that we have a text. It was Adam asking us to come quickly to Traders Hotel because he was having a crisis. We asked him what was wrong but he didn't respond, and our calls to him were left unanswered, so as we rode the cab from Makati to Roxas Boulevard, Uno and I had all sorts of speculations about what might have happened. Adam can be such a drama queen at times, so Uno's guess was that they had a fight and Fred had walked out on him. My guess was a fight too, but that they had come to blows before the guy left. I joked though that how cruel, and funny, and cliché it would it be if the guy had a heart attack while they were having sex and he had suddenly gone limp on top of Adam and he didn't know what to do. Arriving at the hotel, going up the elevator and knocking on the door to Adam's hotel room, we were about to find out.

“Are you alright?” we asked as he ushered us into the room. It didn't seem to be in more disarray than how it should be but Fred was nowhere to be found. Adam though looked very distraught, his eyes puffy and red from crying.

“The wife had found us out,” Adam said as we all sat down at the edge of the bed.

“How?” Uno said.

“I don't know. But it was so humiliating. We were both in boxers waiting for the room service, when there was a knock on the door and Fred opened it without first looking to see who it was, and in she comes with all sorts of invectives flying in the air before she even saw me. When she did, she just lost it. She wasn't expecting me to be a man. Fred was blocking her from getting to me and she scratched his face and slapped him and was shouting at him that he was never going to see their children ever again. He was able to push her out of the door and then he dressed up while I helped him pack his things and we didn't even say anything to each other. All we could hear was his wife banging on the door and making a commotion. He must have dragged his wife out of the hotel begging her not to make a scene. Fuck. I feel so stupid. I should never have agreed to this,” Adam said.

“It's okay, it's not your fault,” I said.

“But it is. I thought we could get away with it. That was our mistake,” Adam said.

“Don't be too hard on yourself. You did it for love,” Uno said.

“It's so fucking unfair. He doesn't even love her. But at the end of the day, he's going to choose her over me,” Adam said.

*

That night, after Uno had gone home, I kept Adam company. Because it was a Saturday night he was insisting we go to Malate, but I convinced him that we just stay in the hotel room. After dinner we went out to buy a bottle of Absolut vodka, some orange juice, and chips, and I helped him drown his sorrows in liquor. The 750 ml bottle was more than enough for the two of us, and by the end of the night he was passed out on the bed while I channel surfed until my buzz dissipated. Once in a while I would glance at Adam to see how he was, and I can't help but think how helpless he seemed despite that huge muscular frame of his. There was a lesson in all of this somewhere, about strength and helplessness, about secrets and lies, about love and sorrow, about choices and consequences, but there was a right time to be asking these questions, and at this moment all Adam needed was company to his sorrow and nothing else and what are friends for if not to give him exactly that?