Chapter 14:

The Fight for the Iron Stomach

The Great Investment


After Taisa had calmed down, she was reminded by her stomach of her temporarily forgotten hunger. Xander had passed on eating his meal on account of it smelling ambiguously of “impending salmonella”, but Taisa had boasted that she had an iron stomach that could withstand mouldy or “allegedly” expired food.

Unfortunately, somewhere during the cleaning of smeared mango cheesecake remnants and putting away the leftovers, the Korean noodles had overthrown the iron stomach.

Taisa was holding the toilet bowl and emptying the last bits of Korean takeout, while Xander was sitting with his back against the bathtub.

“I told you not to scarf down those noodles…”

“You were the one that ordered.”

“It had good reviews.”

“I still say I got sick due to emotional distress.”

“Yes, nothing to do with spoiled food.”

“I’m not denying that the food was spoiled.” She flushed the toilet and watched the water swirling down, entranced. “You think we’ve avoided the subject long enough?”

“I thought it was more akin to stalling.”

She held in her hesitance and released it with a defeated breath. “I got really hard into design school, you know?”

Xander eyed her expectantly but said nothing.

“My mom scrimped and saved a lot to pay my prep classes and my entrance fee, but I eventually got in. I even got a scholarship for low-income students, seeing as dad left us a few years back.”

She paused and nostalgically smiled, “I was soo happy I was actually scared. That’s a weird thing to say. Or think. But new always scares you, right? Even if it’s supposed to be good. I actually was afraid of missing feeling like I did before.”

Her reserved smile dimmed down and was replaced by sadness. “But then dad made a grand reappearance. Mom didn’t want anything to do with him. He was sick, and it got worse, and now he suddenly needed someone to take care of him. Oh, how he begged and cried for someone to be there for him. Imagine, a grown-ass alcoholic man crying like a little lost girl. And I fell for it. I helped him get into a home, got a part-time job for his expenses; but then my grades started to slip, and I wasn’t eligible for my scholarship anymore. I was thinking of dropping out for a moment, but mom, curse her unwavering faith in me, she pawned and sold whatever she could and got me the tuition money.”

“All of it?”

“All of it.” She sighed heavily, “But dad’s cirrhosis became acute and the medical bills started raking up. So, there went my tuition money. A month later he was gone, for good. I was too ashamed to tell my mom, so I asked Victor to lend me the money.”

“…does Victor know?”

“No. Just the ‘me not having enough money part’. I kept him in the dark about the details regarding how I got into that situation.”

“I lied to everybody in my life, my mom, my best friends… And you know what the worst part is? I was glad that my old man died. I felt relieved that I was finally free from him.”

“How is it bad to enjoy being free from a manipulative person?”

“It is bad to see a human life as a burden. No matter how shitty they were, they still felt pain, happiness, and sorrow at some point, just like you. You can’t just ignore their feelings and existence.”

“I think ignorance applies when they don't care about your own.”

“Well, good for you if you can do that.” Her reply was permeated by moroseness.

“Still, not the worst a person could do.” Taisa, still leaning on the brim of the toilet seat, turned to him with a questioning look.

“I refused to grace my mother with my presence in her last days just because I vowed that when I left home she would never see me again. Keeping my word was more important than a dying woman’s wish.”

“…do you ever feel sorry?”

“Honestly? Not really.”

“Was she that bad?”

“I’m sure that Stalin was far worse, but at least you didn’t have to live with him while you were tortured.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to feel sorry for. You didn’t make her, now, did you?” She tried not to smile at his quip, feeling inappropriate considering the nature of the conversation.

“You’re not the devil you make yourself out to be.”

“I also haven’t talked to my brother in years. And he didn’t have any fault in the matter.” He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair.

“Huh. Always pegged you as an only child… but why though?”

“He had more empathy toward mother, and thought I should’ve been the bigger person. I obviously disagreed with him.”

“Well, you’re as big as it gets at 6 foot 4.”

“You should do stand up once you’re done barfing,” he lazily drawled.

“Sorry, sorry. Just couldn’t hold it in.”

“The bad food or the badly-timed humor?”

“Now who’s the pot calling the kettle back!”

“It’s black, not back.”

“Who cares? Pot and kettles don’t talk to each other anyway. And if they could, I bet they would want to talk to shoes, y’know, ‘cuz they’ve been around.” She stopped herself from going on her usual rants and looked at him wistfully.

He sighed and mirrored her facial expression, “Who would’ve thought that there would be so much gut spilling tonight? Literally and figuratively?” A low chuckle rumbled from his chest at her stunned expression. A thought of trying puns more often burrowed in the recess of his mind.

He got up and extended a hand to help her up. Legs having fallen asleep, she had to be hoisted up with more force than initially intended. Xander turned her around by the shoulders and guided her towards the sink.

“Brush your teeth and get some sleep. I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

“Not like I was planning on kissing anyone tonight.” She shrugged and opened the cap of her toothpaste.

“Stop being gross.” He shook his head and quickly brushed aside the fleeting thought of kissing her in her current state, more disturbed that he wasn’t grossed out.

Xander disappeared into the kitchen, took out of the fridge the takeout leftovers and chucked them in the garbage bag along with the deconstructed cheesecake and dirt-seasoned Swedish meatballs.

“Quick quessshtion,” Taisa popped her head out of the bathroom, still brushing her teeth.

Xander turned slightly while straightening out the lapels of his gray coat.

“Yes?”

“Should we have learned something life-changing today?”

“Not everything has to mean something or have a closing moral lesson.”

“But what if it did? What would it be?”

He picked up the black garbage bag and lingered for a while with his hand on the doorknob, pondering his next words, “That we’re not as bad as we thought.”

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As scheduled, Xander came to pick her up, once again with his own car. He discovered he preferred it that way when he was driving her around. It didn’t sit right with his selfish nature to have another person witness their conversations, even if said person was an uninterested taxi driver. He wanted to fully bask in his newfound comfort and not have a third party making him feel on edge.

Taisa stepped outside her apartment building, the paleness of her skin contrasting against the dark blue of her coat.

Once inside the car, Xander gave her a questioning look, “Still feeling sick?”

“Let us not open that can of Pringles, please.” The engine started with a low hum.

“Afraid that word might get out of your digestive track record being ruined?”

Wide-eyed, she turned to him, “You made a pun.”

Eyes fixed on the road, he was paying attention to a stop light, “What?”

“Digestive tract record?”

An uncomfortable pause followed. “You shall not tell a soul about this.”

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As it was Tuesday, they were both in his office, absorbed in their respective work. They were typing and sketching away in the contented silence up until a knock disturbed their kingdom of stillness.

“Yes?” snapped Xander at the intruder.

A wine-colored head peaked between the door and a velvety female voice was heard, ”I’m sorry sir, but I need your approval for the timesheets so I can send them to accounting.”

“And this couldn’t have been done via email?” He sounded a little more irritated than he should be.

“Well, internally yes, but since accounting is through a third party…”

“All right, all right.” He waved for her to come in.

Opening the door fully, she entered confidently, the clacks of her velvet red heels attracting Taisa’s attention. She looked up to see a beautiful redhead; immaculate bouncing curls resting on her shoulders, light olive complexion with dark brown eyes that pulled you in. Taisa froze and a burning uneasiness settled in her stomach, and she couldn’t blame it on spoiled food this time around.

Xander looked up from his screen to see what was keeping his new HR representative from getting those damned timesheets to him. He found her staring intently at Taisa, a spark of recognition alight in her eyes.

The redhead smiled politely, her rouged lips parting slightly to reveal pearly white teeth, “Hello, Taisa.”