I'm not sure whether I'm dreaming or not, when someone shakes me gently. I want to snap out my frustration-my grand desire to sleep more-but I'm too lazy to even hum properly. For once I wish it's a dream and not reality, because I can barely feel my body.

"Sam, please, let me sleep just one more minute." I snuggle as a gentle hand continues shaking me. "I'm tired of waking early! Please."

A soft chuckle fills my ears.

"I know you're tired but I need to make sure you're sick or something. If you assure me that all is well, I am going to let you continue sleeping." A soothing voice replies.

Surprised, I bolt up immediately and my eyes catch the blurred features of Mrs. Eleanor's sweet smile. "Oh God! You're back!" I exclaim gleefully.

"Surprise!" Eleanor utters, laughing. I grin at her, baffled from sleep and this beautiful sight of her. "I missed you, dear, and I got worried that you're still sleeping until now and that you didn't have dinner last night" she says warmly, her face apprehensive.

"I missed you, too. And well . . . I had a long day and that's why I overslept," I reply with a yawn, ignoring the not-having-dinner part. "How was your trip? And when did you get back?" I glance at her properly now that my eyesight has cleared.

As usual, Eleanor looks gorgeous: shiny wavy hair, as glossy as her black stilettos, while fully dressed in white dress pants and a yellow silky blouse.

"I returned last night, and you were soundly asleep," she remarks. "And my trip was so splendid that I even climbed up to Paris for a day, after finishing my business in Rome. Actually, I brought you a little something."

As I follow her gaze, I see her grabbing a white, branded shopping bag. She produces a pair of vintage looking ankle boots, brown and wedged, and my eyes gleam in stun.

"Wow." My mouth stretches wider, unable to hide my enthusiasm. "Are these for me?" I ask urgently.

Eleanor nods while handing the shoes to me. "Since I realized how much you like ranch life, I figured you would like this gift. At least for the time you'll be spending here."

"I love it." I throw the duvet away and step out of bed.

"I'm glad you do." Eleanor smiles fondly while sitting cross-legged, facing me as I try them on.

Fuck, they fit! Perfectly!

"Thank you, Eleanor. Thank you so much." My eyes beam with delight as I check them, twisting my legs as I move.

"It's my pleasure, dear," Eleanor answers, a lovely smile on her face. "Well, I'll let you refresh yourself now that I'm sure you are fine. I'll see you downstairs for breakfast," she says while getting up, her smile so healing. "Pardon me for interrupting your sleep. I couldn't wait!"

"It's okay." I'm grateful.

She's just so sweet! How can someone be this nice to a complete stranger without expecting anything in return? She is a marvel.

"By the way," Eleanor says, as though she's forgotten something important whilst at the door. She flushes with a teenage smile. "Thanks for dinner last night. It was delicious." Her voice is teasing.

"Huh?" I gape, and she raises a playful eyebrow. "Oh, that one! It was nothing," I reply casually.

"Don't be modest now, Kira. Betty told me everything. And guess what, Liam loved it! He likes rice and casserole dishes," she tells me this with such enthusiasm, as if sending some kind of message.

Or am I imagining things?

"Oh, okay." I only nod and off she goes.

After a shower and change of clothes I stop at Sam's room. Apparently she's also slept in. She is stretching up as I walk in, still wearing her pajamas.

"Hi, Kiki," she greets me lazily.

"Hi," I reply softly, shutting the door behind me. "You've slept quite long."

"Hey, with all the labor work I did yesterday, it's only fair I sleep until afternoon."

I bet. Painting is no joke.

"I see." I sit cross-legged at the corner of her bed, watching her pacing hence and forth, figuring her out the outfit of the day-perhaps.

"And to think I didn't get anything out of it." She sounds upset, her brows knitted together in a patent fury.

"What do you mean?" I ask quickly.

Maybe quicker than intended.

Sam sits beside me, instantly. "Remember I said I'd ask him out?"

"Yes?" I reply wryly.

"Well, I didn't!" she snaps. What? I get no time to respond as she stands up. "I don't know how to do it, Kira." She glances at me.

"Um . . . just as you are telling me right now?" I answer matter-of-factly, tired of this game we are playing. "I mean, isn't that why you went with him? To put an end to this?" I feel exasperated.

"Okay, you don't need to shout at me! It's not like I want this to happen, too. I mean, I feel like I'm scared of him." Sam sighs after blurting this out, and I don't think I want to hear anymore details.

"Oh." I seriously wish she'd told him already and get it over with.

"Liam is indifferent. I mean, yes, he does treat me well," Sam says, leaning against the wall with arms crossed on her chest. I swallow hard, waiting for more. "He talks less, but he listens more. Well, even though I talk like a machine sometimes, he still does listen."

I sigh. "So, what's the problem?"

"The problem is . . . it's like he's trying to put a visible boundary between us whenever we're together and it scares me. He's there, so close, but then he's not." Sam sounds truly hurt and disappointed.

And me . . . I no longer know what this whole situation makes me feel.

"What if he doesn't feel the same way?" I say suggestively, eyes firm on her.

"What?" Sam looks completely taken aback, despondent even. But I keep my eyes insistent. "Why? Has he said something?" she demands, a mild anger filled in her eyes-the same reaction she gives whenever you tell her what she doesn't want to hear.

"He doesn't need to tell me anything for things to be clear, Sam. If he does feel something special for you, then why doesn't he say so? What reason could make him stay indifferent around you? To play around with you? I honestly don't think he's that kind of a person," I say bluntly, hoping my friends would open her eyes at last.

"I-" She stammers, and then she frowns hard as if I'm the enemy filling her head with poisonous lies. "What do you mean by all that?"

"I mean, maybe everything is in your head, Sam. The guy doesn't like you the way you want him to and that's why he's acting the way he does!" I say whatever comes to mind, my voice fierce and determined. "Okay, for starters, tell me . . . What did he tell you when he first invited you to this place?"

"Well . . . exactly as I told you. Why am I suddenly being interrogated by you?" Sam says and I believe she is nervous.

"Really, Sam?" I ask, eyes fixed on her face. "That you two had lunch, dinner, that you kissed and-"

"Okay! Enough!" Sam exclaims, highly perplexed while uncrossing her arms off her chest. Her face falls softly as she says, "Well . . . The truth is, between Liam and I, nothing extraordinary happened. Yes, we had meals together about three times, and grabbed a few drinks a couple of days later, but we didn't even kiss like I told you before. We had nothing intimate."

"What?" I whisper.

Even though Liam assured me about this, I still had a small doubt given the situation with him and Sam. So, he was telling the truth?

"Yes, I lied so that you'd agree to come with me," Sam tells me while marching toward the bed.

"But why, Sam? You know that I would be here with you even if you'd told me that he was just the guy you're interested in." I watch her sitting on the couch.

She seems on the crossroad with her own emotions-eyes gleaming, lips trembling, hands fiddling on her lap, with defeat on her face-and it breaks my heart.

"And I also thought he liked me. Maybe not as much as I liked him, but there was something that I can no longer feel ever since we arrived here," she snaps.

I gulp tightly. Could it be that I stole her chances to be with him? Maybe if I didn't tag along on this trip they'd probably be together right now?

"You know . . . I've always been popular with guys, right?" Sam says with a soft laugh-a painful one. I nod softly, laughing along in a similar fashion. "But guess what? I've been constantly aware that all they ever wanted is my body and nothing else."

Oh no! How does she not notice what a precious woman she is, or can be . . . if she lets her true value show? I always find in her everything I don't have.

"Sam," I utter, "you're better than that. You're beautiful-the most gorgeous woman I know-and I always tell you this, over and over again. Do not let anyone make you doubt yourself."

Sam chuckles briefly. "I know, but still I don't think-"

"But you need to have self-restraint," I tell her truthfully as I believe she needs to hear this for once in her life since I never dared to say it before.

"What?" She glances sharply at me, and I know it's that hatred of hearing things she doesn't like. "So, you think I'm easy or something."

Oh God. Not what I mean.

"No. What I'm trying to say is that . . . No one will take you seriously unless you show them you are serious. You can't continue letting them think you're this gorgeous bombshell with a great body, but only for momentary pleasure. No! You deserve the best! You deserve a man who will love and accept you fully without having to pretend to be someone you're not."

Damn, am I making sense? I sigh, and my subconscious is currently on a silent mode, totally unhelpful.

Sam's eyes narrow with displeasure, but I believe she gets my point. "But Kira-"

"And I don't think that man is Liam," I interrupt, my heart racing vehemently against my chest. "I believe if he were, he'd have shown you already."

"You think?" Sam asks, eyeing me doubtfully with squinted eyes, her bangs ruffled.

"I don't think what I think matters, Sam. I just don't want you to continue suffering in silence over a guy who doesn't deserve you," I blurt, feeling angry at Liam for some unknown reason.

He should've told her this. Maybe we wouldn't be here doing this.

"Maybe you are right. But Liam is different," Sam says strenuously while standing up. "He treated me like a lady. He is the first guy to touch my heart. So tell me, how can I let go of such a person? How do I forget about him when my heart's already yearning for him? I love him, Kira! I swear I love him."

"You love him?" A heavy, cruel pang hits my chest.

"Hmm." She nods. "You have no idea how I kept staring at him yesterday when we went to pick Eleanor from the airport. He's just too mysterious or something. He's someone who makes you want to dig him up, or peel off his layers like a cabbage."

Yes, he is a beautiful mystery . . . but loving him?

"Are you absolutely sure it's love?" I ask, for I don't really want to believe it is.

Oh, look who's talking! My subconscious snarls, challenging my feelings. Yeah, perhaps we're both infatuated by him, I retort.

"Yes, Kira; I'm sure of it. You'd understand me if you were in love." Sam's answer banishes my speech as I don't know what to say. "It's a strange feeling, you know. I've never felt this . . . so needy over a guy . . . so attracted. It's unbearable! It makes me want to scream at times, let it all out!" Now she sounds excited.

My heart shrinks. "And . . . if it's not like that on his part, what will you do?" I ask hesitantly, my voice low.

"Why wouldn't it be?" she asks, that hint of an overconfident girl overshadowing her face. "I can make him fall in love with me, Kira. Mark my words. I'm Sam. I always get what I want, have you forgotten?"

"Oh! Right," I breathe and I have nothing more to say.

I feel . . . defeated and numb inside.

"You're probably thinking that I'm going crazy, huh?" Sam laughs gently, her good mood restored.

"A little," I mutter, and my mood is officially spoiled. "Well, I need to have breakfast so I'll let you change and . . . do whatever you have to do." I stand up as well, forcing a smile that doesn't touch my lips.

I head straight downstairs, hoping to never bump into anyone, which is not the case. I meet Eleanor at the staircase and she seems in a hurry.

"There you are." She regards me hastily while sneaking a hand inside her black, designer purse. "I'm going to work; the new arrivals need to be displayed today. But I'll be home early, and I guess I don't need to remind you that this is your home too, do I?" She glances up at me with a smile.

"You don't have to." I smile back, feebly.

"Great! I'll see you later then." She turns around, but immediately she spins back. "Oh, if you see Liam, please tell him I had to leave early," she adds.

"I will." I nod and off she scurries off, leaving the beautiful scent of her perfume.

Lost and dejected, I end up sitting on one of the stairs. For over five minutes I stay completely still, absentminded, my head incapable of thinking or processing anything, my focus on the large window facing the garden as the trees dance viciously.

A cold air against my skin is what impels me to find something warm to drink in the kitchen. I shudder, hugging my long cardigan while thinking of the coffee with plenty of cream. Maybe after a cup I'll be able to gain my senses, I decide.

"Good morning." A voice startles my reverie as I get up from the stairs.

Liam! My subconscious gnarl and I throw a glance over my shoulder, only to confirm that it's really him.