The sun streamed through the Castillo family's dining room, bouncing off clean white walls and the gleam of Riz's mom's beloved breakfast spread: garlic rice, tapa, scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, and warm pan de sal stacked in a woven basket.
Cleo and Riz walked in together, bleary-eyed and dragging their varsity jackets behind them. Cleo blinked at the bright lights and yawned. "I thought brunch meant late breakfast..."
"It's still morning," Riz mumbled, rubbing at his neck. "Barely."
But as they entered the dining room, Cleo immediately noticed something was... off.
Sitting primly at the table, across from Riz's mom, was a girl he didn't recognize. She was all glossed lips and perfect posture, her hair in a neat braid over one shoulder. She looked like she belonged on a magazine cover—and she was wearing heels. At breakfast.
"Oh," Riz's mom said brightly. "Boys! Come in, come in. You remember Antonette, right? She's Uncle Nestor's daughter—you used to play together when you were kids."
Cleo blinked.
Riz blinked harder. "Oh. Uh... yeah. Antonette."
She smiled sweetly at Riz, then stood to give him a hug that lingered just a second too long for Cleo's liking. "You've grown so tall, Riz," she said, voice lilting. "And athletic, I hear."
Cleo felt a muscle twitch in his jaw. He sat stiffly in the seat beside Riz.
Antonette slid into the chair on Riz's other side. Of course.
Cleo stabbed his scrambled eggs like they owed him money.
Riz, oblivious or just pretending to be, turned to Cleo and nudged his foot under the table. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," Cleo muttered, eyes still on his plate.
Antonette leaned forward. "So, Riz, I heard from my dad that you're taking over one of the summer development projects for your family business. That's so impressive!"
Cleo took a bite of rice that might as well have been gravel.
Riz nodded. "Yeah, just consulting though. Still figuring it out. I'm more into design and planning than the business side, honestly."
"Oh," Antonette said, twirling her spoon. "But wouldn't it be great if we worked on something together this summer?"
Cleo slammed his juice down harder than necessary.
Riz gave him a sidelong glance. "Seriously. You good?"
Cleo shrugged. "Just enjoying my very entertaining breakfast."
Riz blinked once. Then it clicked. His lips twitched upward.
"Ohhh," he said under his breath, leaning toward Cleo. "Are you jealous?"
Cleo narrowed his eyes. "Of heels and hair flips? Please."
Riz smirked. "You're totally jealous."
"I will pour juice on you."
---------------------------------
🌿 AFTER BREAKFAST: "Just You and Me on Sunday" 🌿
The clinking of plates and Antonette's bright laughter still echoed in Cleo's ears as he stepped out onto the back veranda. The Calderon estate's garden sprawled beyond him—lush and green, dotted with wildflowers Riz's mom had insisted on planting herself.
He gripped the wooden railing, staring at the koi pond below like it had answers.
Riz's footsteps were soft behind him, but Cleo didn't turn.
"You disappeared," Riz said gently.
Cleo shrugged. "Just wanted some air."
Riz came to stand beside him, their elbows almost brushing. "You were quiet back there."
"Didn't want to ruin your charming breakfast reunion."
Riz's brow furrowed. "Cleo."
He sighed, finally turning to face him. "Okay, yeah. It bothered me."
"I figured."
"I mean, the way she was looking at you... and talking about summer like you were already promised to her. And your mom was just—there. Letting it happen like it was natural."
"She was just being polite. Antonette's dad is a client—"
"I know that," Cleo snapped, then immediately softened. "I know. It just—sucked. Sitting there like I was the friend from school while she got to be the girl your family approved of."
Riz was quiet for a beat, then said softly, "Cleo, look at me."
Cleo hesitated, then met his eyes.
"You know how I feel about you. You know who I go home with. Who I wake up next to. Who I dream about waking up next to for the rest of my life."
Cleo looked away again. "But no one else does. Not really."
"I know," Riz said, voice low and steady. "And that's on me too. We're not rushing it. But I promise you—there's no one else. Not even close."
Silence lingered between them. The wind moved the leaves like whispers.
Cleo scuffed his sneaker against the tile. "I think... I just want to feel like I'm yours. Not in secret."
"You are mine," Riz murmured. "Every second."
Cleo glanced up at him, vulnerable in a way Riz rarely saw. "Then prove it. Sunday. Just us. No families. No business brunches. No Antonette. Just... you and me."
A small, genuine smile broke across Riz's face. "Deal. Sunday's ours."
"Good," Cleo said, then added, a little smaller, "I miss you sometimes. Even when you're right next to me."
Riz leaned in, his forehead resting lightly against Cleo's. "Then I'll hold you longer next time. No space. No room for doubt."
Cleo breathed him in. "Okay."
Their hands found each other, fingers lacing. The promise wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.
Just Sunday. Just them.
------------------
End of Chapter Thirteen