Philip paced outside the balcony of their hotel room in great disbelief. He was in a strange country with the strangest drunkard woman he had ever met.

Letting the night's cool wind calm his senses, Philip organized his thoughts. He reminded himself of why he was here.

He was here to save his ass and his family. He was here because he had to. He was here because that was what Kurt Anders bargained for.

He turned and walked back inside the room. He watched his sleeping wife.

She was a mess. Not because of this marriage, but because of something else before all of this even started.

Shaking his head, Philip reminded himself why he was here again.

Not because of her, he thought as he walked to his side of the bed and settled down.

*****

If you had ever been so drunk and passed out, then you'd understand what a great burden a hangover is. That's what it was for Cassandra the moment she opened her eyes. Her head was aching so badly and the rays of sun hitting her eyes only made it worse.

"God, I'm never drinking again..." she moaned, trying to get up but failing miserably. Well, that was another thing with hangovers: they always make you say something like that.

Her body was aching and her mind, aside from the headache, was in a blur. She couldn't remember what happened next after the...what did she really remember? Oh, yes, the phone call from Philip...then Benny with that sexy accent...then Philip again...then...she couldn't go any further because her brain was seriously in pain right now. She blindly reached out her hand sideways and froze when she felt a man's chest.

Bare chest with smooth, tiny hairs. She rolled her eyes to her right and stifled a shout when she saw Philip's sleeping form beside her. Carefully, she lifted her pinky finger from his chest, then the ring finger, then the middle finger...forefinger...thumb...and ever so gently, she lifted her palm from his muscled chest which was heaving with easy, smooth breathing pattern. His left arm was sprawled over his head and his right one was at his side.

Cassandra was almost afraid to peek inside the comforter that covered him from navel down. If he was naked up, he could be very well be...okay, stop right there.

Fully awake now with a throbbing head, Cassandra slipped out of the bed as slowly as she could and the moment her feet touched the floor, she noticed her clothing. She gasped and covered her mouth. She was not wearing her black-and-white shirt and her denim shorts anymore. Instead, she had on one of the black nightgowns her mother packed for her! It was too silky and too revealing and...

"Oh my God," she whispered, throwing her head back at Philip. That did it. She grabbed a pillow and slapped it down his head. "What did you do to me!" she shouted.

He shot out of bed in a matter of seconds and Cassandra gasped for the second time when she saw what he was wearing. Of course she had seen men in boxers and even without, but God, her husband was too hot and too angry to look at right now, so she hastily turned around to face the glass door that led to the balcony.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Philip exclaimed harshly. She didn't need to turn around to know he was practically scowling across the bed at her.

"I should ask you that question! Where are my clothes?"

"What? What clothes?"

"The clothes I was wearing last night!"

"You mean the ones you showered with your gastric contents?"

"What gastric contents are you talking—" she stopped, the events from last night finally falling into pieces. She dropped her head and moaned, "Oh, good God. I threw up."

"Yes, and you did not only throw up on the floor, you splattered most of it on my shirt—"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" she stood up, stopped, and sat back down again when she realized she was wearing close to nothing. "Don't tell me you're the one who stripped me of my clothes..."

"Of course I did it—" he received another flying pillow for that before he could finish the sentence.

"You could have just shaken me up or splashed water on my face so I'd wake up and do the work myself!"

"You were drop dead down, Cassandra! And I was not in the mood to wake you up. I found out you are better to manage not awake."

"What else did you do?" she glared at him accusingly.

His face went blank, "What do you mean?" and when he understood what she meant, he smiled, "well, you don't remember?"

Her eyes widened in horror. "Remember what?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and said, "It's for me to know and for you to remember," and with that he turned around to go to the bathroom. He closed it before another flying pillow reached him.

*****

"Where are we going?" Philip asked for the tenth time during breakfast.

"For me to know and for you to find out," she answered for the tenth time.

He took a deep breath and looked at her intently. "We should talk about your constant drinking."

"I'm not a drunkard, okay? I like drinking from time to time," she said rather defensively. "And don't tell me my defensive act is a sign of an existing problem. It's not. It was the first time for me to pass out like that."

His eyebrows raised in challenge and disbelief, "Really? Because it's the second time I saw you drunk, you know."

"Yeah, of course, I know that. It's just coincidence," she waved him off with one hand as she finished her eggs. "Let's go, we're gonna be late."

"Where are we—" he did not finish his question knowing the answer. He just stood up and followed her out the restaurant and to the lobby. Cassandra was wearing a simple white shirt with a small coconut print at the back; light brown shorts; and sandals. Her husband chose a green shirt, cargo shorts, and sneakers. When she first saw him wearing those black sneakers, she almost laughed. It was not like Philip Strindberg to be wearing something too casual.

"We should get a car," he told her as they climbed inside and she told the driver their destination.

"I don't drive and even if you insist to do the honor, I won't be riding shotgun," she retorted.

"Oh, yes, I remember. You have problems riding in front. Why is that?"

She turned at him with a look that said, stop prying. She never shared that part of herself to anyone. Except one person and that was Harrison.

*****

Philip was certain that the shock on his face was visible when he realized what her wife would be doing. They were in an orphanage managed privately by an organization headed by a Filipino man named Gilmer, also an artist.

Cassandra was a guest who would be spending the day with the children to teach them the basics of painting and the enthusiastic aspiring artist children of all ages stared at her with wonder—mostly because they rarely saw an American lady who they could converse with.

"Kamusta?" Philip watched Cassandra greet the children in their native tongue and the children chorused different responses. "I'm Cassandra and I will be here to guide you with your lessons. I am here for vacation but Gilmer here asked if I can spare a day with all of you." She turned to Philip and motioned her hand saying, "That guy over there at the corner is my friend Philip. He's going to help me give out paints and brushes. You can keep them, of course."

It was a wonder the children actually understood her. Well, almost everybody in the world has English as their second language.

Philip barely had enough time to wrap his head around the fact that Cassandra engaged in this kinds of activities. And in the presence of the children, Philip was actually in a fair mood, helping with whatever way he could. His face was full of unhidden amusement and admiration as he watched her go around, bending over little children and helping them with their paintings.

"So, this is what you do?" he asked when she sat beside him on a bench at the corner of the room.

"You mean you don't know what your wife is doing?" Gilmer asked, hearing his question. He was seated across them on a stool. "And you never told me about getting married the last time we talked, Cassy."

Philip cleared his throat. "Of course I know she's an artist, but it didn't occur to me she'd fly across the globe to teach...children," he said defensively.

"Darling, I wanted to keep it a secret," Cassandra replied, turned to Gilmer and said, "I didn't tell him about all these. I wanted to surprise him. And I never mentioned him because he is too important."

Gilmer chuckled and said, "Okay, now I understand why he looked so shocked when he entered the building and saw the children. But as Cassy said, she is here on vacation. Last time she was here with—" Gilmer stopped and cleared his throat while Cassandra looked away, feigning a cough. "I mean, last time she was here, it was solely for work—teaching the children and doing talks in different universities. But now she's here for vacation and an exhibit, right?" Cassandra gave an awkward nod. "I just got word of it and asked if she can spare us a day."

Philip ignored the almost-slip Gilmer made. "This is a nice surprise, sweetheart," he said to his wife instead, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"Glad you like it, babe," she returned his smile dryly.

But the guy was staring across them with curiosity, "You use so many endearments—I noticed."

Cassandra and Philip were taken aback by the comment for a few seconds before Cassandra forced a chuckle and said, "We love endearments we wanna use them all, right honey?"

Philip nodded his head vigorously, "Yes, we do."

"You know, here in the Philippines, couples usually stick to one endearment for each other. It makes it special. You should settle for one," he urged.

Philip wanted to snap at the man to mind his own business but refrained doing so.

Cassandra just smiled, "Hmm...maybe we'll do that."

Philip was smiling now as well and when he turned to look at her, his blue eyes were mischievous, "What about cupcake? Honeybunch? Boo?"

"Are you kidding me? Never," she cringed. "No, never."

"Darling? Babe?" he offered once again, "You know, you just called me babe for the first time a few seconds ago. I like it."

He knew she was fighting off a scowl. "Fine. Babe it is," she answered.

"Good decision, babe..." Philip said, turning to Gilmer with a forced smile, happy to end the conversation.

"I was just kidding, you know," Gilmer said with a laugh.

Cassandra instantly stood up and cleared her throat, "Let's get back to the children, shall we?"

Chuckling, Philip nodded and followed her back to the busy kids, Gilmer in tow.

"By the way," Gilmer told them and they stopped in their tracks, "I already reserved a two-night stay for you guys in Boracay."

Cassandra frowned. "I thought you said it's going to be Palawan?"

Gilmer shrugged. "You said the usual spots, right?"

Philip saw how Cassandra tried to cover a strange look on her face with smile. "Boracay it is then!"

Philip frowned, "Boracay?"

The smile was still on her face when she faced him. "Babe, didn't I tell you? Oh, yeah, maybe it slipped my mind," Cassandra told him.

"Told me what?"

"That we're going to the beach!"

,ۓpt