Philip silently cursed himself inside his study.

Was his wife right? He was acting different?

Shaking his head in denial, he checked his email and found an encrypted message from Henry. He frowned. His friend rarely sent encrypted messages.

This could only mean serious business.

He opened it and read.

Be careful at the party. They will be there. Can't contact each other the usual way anymore. We have to be careful.

Act normal.

Philip rubbed his hands over his face. He was not used to these things. He never expected to be even in this mess.

But he was and he no one to blame but himself.

*****

The next few days went back to normal which meant Philip was back to his old self. Cassandra even began to wonder if he was using this other personality as façade or he really had some kind of multiple or bipolar personality disorder.

By Friday, Philip found her at the back of the house while she was painting on canvas. She stopped and turned to face him. "I'm done cleaning the living room if that's what you came here for."

She was pissed with him today—not that it wasn't always the case anyway—because he had been following her around, critiquing her chores. He had asked her to clean the living room three times already and just to make herself feel better she made herself believe he just forgot about the first two times he did.

He frowned and said, "We're going shopping."

"For what?'

"Food. And aren't you going to get your dad a gift for tomorrow?"

Cassandra stood there thinking for a few seconds and finally shrugged. "Okay," she started to pick up her things. "I'll just go change."

He stepped closer and took her brushes from her, "I'll do this. Go hurry up."

"Be careful with this, okay?" she tapped her canvas, looking at him sternly like her life depended on it.

"Just go change," he stared at her dryly.

Without a word, she left him and went to her room. She grabbed an oversized black shirt and a pair of denim shorts and black ankle boots. No bags. Philip had to pay for everything, including her father's gift.

With not a word of debate from him, she climbed behind him at the backside of the car and they drove toward the city. He was still dressed in his khaki pants and gray sweatshirt from earlier since she woke up. They went to get some groceries first.

"No, bring that back. I'm not buying that," he said, looking like he was going to puke.

Cassandra looked down at the tray of eggs and frowned. "Why? We need eggs. It's protein."

"I don't need eggs for the next three years." He wheeled the cart away from her and added, "And don't try to sneak another ham into this cart because that's not ever going to happen."

Cassandra fumed. How did he expect her to serve food for? Already planning on how she could sneak the eggs into the counter, she noticed that he stopped at a nearby rack with cooking books on display.

"What's that?" she asked absently, pretending to look over his shoulder as she carefully placed the tray of eggs underneath the pack of tissue.

"It's for you." He pushed a large cooking book in front of her. "You really have to learn how to cook or I'll die early."

"That will not be such a problem for me," she mumbled under her breath as she sighed, looking down at the heavy book with a photo of a very mouthwatering meat dish she didn't recognize. He rummaged down at the cart and much to her disappointment, saw the tray of eggs. He looked at her accusingly and she feigned innocence by saying, "Oh, yeah, someone must have misplaced that there a few minutes ago. Really babe, you should watch our cart. Kids love to play tricks on shoppers nowadays."

"Yeah, right. Kids..." he shook his head as he placed the eggs on a rack beside some pasta. "Or some wives who don't know how to cook."

I should have brought my own money, she whispered in her mind. "Do you really expect me to cook stuff like this? These are for aspiring cooks!" Cassandra lifted the book to her chest.

"It's for beginners," he pointed at the book and she looked down.

"It doesn't look like it's for beginners. It's freaking complicated by the look of it!"

"It's simple," he said absently as he frowned down at a can of sauce. "Let's get going. We still need to buy your dad a present."

She bore a hole through his back and mentally pictured blood pouring out that hole.

*****

After almost an hour of trying to find a gift for her dad, they finally decided on a pipe since her dad loved his collection of them. With her own money, she wouldn't have bought it, but since Philip was paying, she didn't complain on the price upon seeing it.

Their next destination took her by surprise though.

"What are we doing here?"

"We're going to buy you a dress."

"I already have a dress."

He raised his brows back at her, "Really?"

"Yes." She didn't exactly lie. She could go home and open that box of hers again.

"But since we're here, we better get you one." He climbed out of the car. She did the same and followed him toward the store. "I liked that one you wore during the dinner with my family."

"Oh, you mean the night Angelica kissed you?" the words came out before she could stop herself—and it sounded too bitter as hell. Damn!

Philip stopped in his tracks and faced her. "She was drunk. She didn't know what she was doing," he said defensively.

That same anger she felt every time she heard him talk about Angelica flared inside her once more. "If you like her that much, you should have married her instead of me. She would have said yes in an instant."

"I don't see Angelica as a wife. She's like a sister to me." His frown was deepening now.

"You don't look at her like a brother does to a sister." She tried to sound casual this time.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," she started walking but he stopped her by blocking her path. "What?" Now, that tone sounded like an angry, jealous wife.

"What do you mean?" he asked once again, his face seriously curious. She stared at him incredulously. How could he not know what she was talking about?

"Oh, nothing, really." She prayed her nonchalant tone was not too late or suspicious. "It's just the way you look at her."

"And how do I look at her exactly?" His hands went to his hips in that sexy way of his.

"Like you're ready to strip her of her clothes. Like at the mall?" she reminded him.

At first, his face was incredibly curious as he tried to understand what she was talking about, and then he chuckled in amusement and disbelief.

"What's so funny?" she demanded, afraid that he was laughing at her because he thought she was jealous.

"You think I like Angelica? I was not looking at her because I like her in a carnal way if that's what you mean," he laughingly said.

"You weren't?" Cassandra wanted to slap herself because her question sounded so stupid.

"No I weren't," he said it matter-of-factly and then his eyes looked at her tenderly and she was almost lost into their blue depths. "I was trying to compare how you two are different in many ways."

It was her turn to frown. "And how different are we exactly?"

He grinned down at her and said, "She's too womanly for my taste."

"And?" she urged when he didn't continue. Really, he had to try to answer in complete sentences.

"And what?"

"And me?"

"Well," his lips twitched to one side, "you're...you bring out the worst in me."

Her mouth fell open. Should she find it a good thing at all?

"Now," he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the shop, "stop talking about Angelica like she's your worst enemy. She's good if you get to know her. She just has issues."

"I really doubt that," she mumbled.

"Trust me, you'll like her. While I think you two are not the same, there are also numerous similarities between the two of you. If you get to know her, you'll like her. "

I said I really doubt it, moron, she shouted in her mind.

*****

The lady who assisted her in trying out the dresses Philip picked out for her was smiling in amusement every time she got out of the dressing room with a different dress and he would wave his hand saying things like, "Could it be any shorter?" or something like, "Take it off this instant," when she appeared with a purple dress that bared her back to the lowest part of her back.

Cassandra was ready to walk out of the store and walk home alone when she came out wearing a simple knee-length black sleeveless dress with a square neckline. He literally froze in the couch and Cassandra crossed her fingers.

"We'll get that," he said in an instant, addressing the lady standing beside her.

"Finally," Cassandra sighed and went to change back to her clothes.

*****

Saturday was Philip's turn to do his chores again which she found as annoying as doing her own. She couldn't stay inside the house without him following and cleaning after her. It was like having a robotic vacuum attached to your waist. She even thought he'd lie low because of the party later that night but she was wrong.

"What's wrong with you? Can't you stop to rest?" she snapped when he came out the back door with a rake.

"You decided to forget to do the lawn yesterday, remember?" he raised his eyebrows at her.

Cassandra rolled her eyes and continued on with her painting.

"When's your exhibit?" he asked in a casual tone as he began with his work.

"How did you know about that?"

"Your mother."

"It's next month. That's why I should be focused on my work instead of stupid household chores."

"If you think that's going to work, it's not."

She gave out an exaggerated sigh. "That's what I thought..."

"You should use the time you're doing your chores as an inspiration for one of your works."

"I can't possibly paint a rake, Philip. Or a vacuum cleaner."

"But you can paint a rake with a lawn," he pointed out.

Cassandra froze. Yeah, that could work. "Or you could pose for me!"

"Never."

"Don't worry, it's a piece of cake. I should really paint you anyway." She stared into the air and motioned with a hand and said, "And I'll call it 'Suffering'."

"Suffering?"

"Yeah. Since you're the main cause of my constant suffering and agony..." He must have found her statement funny because he let out a small chuckle. Cassandra just pouted her lips. She really expected him to stiffen and crack her head with the rake.

*****

By six o'clock, she got ready in haste. Philip had been knocking on her door every five minutes since she came in. She wasn't a bit giddy for many reasons.

Harrison would be there and her friend meeting her husband was something she never planned to happen. And Philip was not aware that someone else aside from her father knew of their real situation.

Taking one last glance of herself in the mirror, she sighed. She wore her hair in a messy bun. She paired the simple black dress with a pair of black pumps and a black clutch bag. She didn't like jewelries but she had put on a pair of simple stud diamond earrings. She also applied light make-up on her face but made her eyes look strong with black and silver eye shadow.

She already saw the shadow underneath her door and she said, "I'm coming!"

The knock came anyway.

"You've been saying that for almost an hour," Philip's voice said from the other side.

"And you've been nagging that long," she retorted as she swung the door open.

He did not answer because his eyes were already busy roaming over her in a way that made her blush like a stupid teenager.

"What?" she found her voice first. He looked marvelous in a black tuxedo and dark blue tie.

She heard him clear his voice as his eyes went back to look at her. "I have something for you," he held out a large velvet box and she took it.

"What's this?"

"Open it," he said with a tone that sounded like a nervous child.

Slowly, she opened the box and a large star-crossed pendant traced with little diamonds greeted her, and attached to it was a silver chain. "It's a star..."

"The only thing your father ever shared about your personal life is that you've always loved the stars since you were a child."

"Of all the details, really?" She looked up from the box to stare at him.

He shrugged, "He did not really tell me that. He mentioned that in passing once."

And he remembered it? "Why give me this? It's not even my birthday or something."

"I just thought of you when I saw it, that's all."

"I don't really need—"

"Just...put it on," he interjected gently.

Because she loved stars, she did not argue further. She didn't know how he even got the necklace with his time spent mostly at home as far as she could remember.

"You should wear it tonight," he urged.

"Okay..." she whispered and took the necklace in her hand. She expected him to offer hooking it around her neck but when he just stood there motionless, she thought he was not the type to do such mushy stuff.

She gave him the box and hooked the necklace herself.

"It suits you," he observed.

"Thanks," she felt the warm glow over her cheeks. "Okay, let's go," she uttered with a heavy sigh.

*****

They arrived and the party was already going on. As she expected, her mother had done a fantastic job. The music was old but Cassandra loved it and it brought a feeling of nostalgia as she remembered her childhood waking up to the same set of music.

She led Philip through the crowd of people in the ballroom of the house she grew up in and out to the gardens where tables covered by white cloth glimmered with candle lights. She knew where to find her father and they spotted him talking with Harrison and her mother and she stopped.

"What's wrong?" Philip asked beside her.

She did not have time to reply because at that same moment, Harrison spotted them over her father's shoulder and his growing smile upon seeing her froze when his eyes landed on Philip.

"Who's that?" Philip asked rather irritably, his face contorted.

Cassandra groaned inwardly. This is it, she sighed to herself. "Harrison."

"Who?"

"Harrison."

Philip's frown deepened when his mind finally recognized the name. "The one who had been bothering you ever since our honeymoon?"

"He was not bothering me," she snapped, pasting a fake smile on her face. "And he's my friend so you have to be nice," she added when her father turned, spotted them, and started walking to their direction with her mother and Harrison in tow.

"That will be hard to do with the way he's looking at me," her husband said stonily. "Does he know about us?"

She was almost afraid to answer that but she said, "Yes."

"You told him?" his voice was etched with real anger now.

"Yes," she whispered, her smile wavering by the second. "Don't worry, he won't talk. Come on, smile." She gripped his arm tightly. He must be trying hard not to burst out so she did not urge on further when his lips pursed.

Her parents were already smiling as she dragged her husband to meet them, but she could see that Harrison had the same expression on his face as Philip while he kept his distance behind her parents.

"Happy birthday, dad," she kissed her dad on the cheek and handed her present, "This is from me and Philip."

"Happy birthday, Kurt," Philip said, fixing a small smile on his lips as he shook her father's hand. He then went to kiss her mother on the cheek and said a decent good evening.

"I'm so happy you two came," her father said, looking at her specifically. He really thought she wouldn't come? She was not angry anymore, but she still wanted the truth. Him trusting her was a great deal.

"Oh, darling," her mother spoke up with her jolly voice, "why don't you introduce Harrison to your husband?"

With a scared look, she stared at her husband and cleared her throat. The two guys were already staring at one another like old high school enemies. "Harry, this is Philip—my husband. Philip, this is Harrison."

Harrison took a step toward Philip and her husband did the same. The handshake they shared looked like a game of tug-of-war to Cassandra, but it ended shortly. Should she check bruising on Philip's hand later?

"Harrison here is a very good friend of the family," her mother informed Philip. "He has been there with Cassy when she needed someone the most."

*****

He saw the look of warning Cassandra gave her mother.

Philip's smile was dry as he said, "That's good to know someone cared for Cass."

"It was a hard time for her and she needed me," Harrison replied in the same manner.

"I'm hungry, why don't we eat?" she said to Philip and tugged at his arm.

"Philip, I need to talk to you privately," Kurt Anders said.

Philip just nodded, eyes still on his wife. Cassandra looked at Harrison and smiled. He saw Harrison return his wife's smile with a shrug. "Let's go," Cassandra whispered when he refused to move.

*****

They were getting food inside when William and Hope approached them. Cassandra wanted to shout in frustration. She had enough for one day and having his family around didn't help.

"Philip, I want to talk to you," William said after a long hi and hello moment and they walked to the far corner of the room. Hope left her to look for Mary who was probably with her mother and she sighed in relief.

A few moments later, she saw her father walk up to Philip and took her husband away from William and they disappeared into the study. She craned her neck and saw three gentlemen she didn't recognize followed Philip and her father into the study.

When she turned her head she saw Henry Bell standing in one corner alone, eyeing her father's closed study. Although he did not appear suspicious, the fact that he was watching the very same room Cassandra's father and husband disappeared into was enough to make her question Henry Bell's real presence in this party.

Cassandra was not sure how long she stood there watching Henry Bell watching her father's closed study door.

When she started move to confront the man, someone blocked her path and she looked up and saw Harrison.

"Hi," she beamed at him. "Wanna eat?"

"I'm done," he said without a smile. It was not like him at all and she knew why he was acting that way. "Why did you bring him here?"

"Are you crazy? He's my husband, Harry."

"Husband in paper," he reminded her.

"And my parents invited him. You can't possibly expect me not to bring him with me. And plus, I need a driver. Remember, I can't drive."

His lips broke into a smile with her quip. "How are things? Does he make you suffer?"

Every day, she wanted to answer but she knew it was just her own thinking. "Of course not. He's nothing like that. And why do you think he will do such a thing?"

His friend shrugged, "I don't know—"