Chapter 62

Felicity's POV "We didn't fight. I don't have a problem with her. It's just that—I'm starting to doubt myself lately," I said as a starter. I was nervous. I even looked away to take a deep breath first before continuing to answer. "Wait, I am confused; what do you mean you did not when it appeared that something had happened?" I turned to him when he began speaking. There was a frown on his face and the line between his eyebrows was extremely deep. He expressed his confusion as if I were not. He had no idea how much I was struggling with everything going on around me. There were questions. There are so many hows and whys swirling around in my head that I am at a loss for answers. "You know what? Me too," I said, rolling my eyes, which caused him to scratch his head. "Let us analyze the issue here first," Quintin said, pulling his chair closer to the table so he could rest both of his elbows on it and look me directly in the eyes. "What happened and when did it start?" he continued. Quintin was like a different person who suddenly appeared in front of me. I raised my eyebrow at him when he gave me goosebumps with the way he stared. "W-what are you, a psychiatrist or some kind of mental health counselor?" I asked, trying to joke about it even though I was already extremely uncomfortable. "No, but I am a friend who cares. I am just trying to help. You don't know how difficult it is to be stuck between the two of you. You know how important you are to Elyana, and because I was the one asked about what was wrong with you, I felt I was responsible for whatever this was between the two of you. So, let me help you figure this out so that we can know the problem and solve it as soon as possible," he said without even blinking. I was tempted to share a story. After all, he was the one who was insisting. "Okay, this was what happened." I told him what happened at the clinic, but I didn't give him all the details of what I saw because I knew I shouldn't anymore. "Woah! Wait...let me absorb all those first," he snapped at me when I was halfway through. I gave him a break, just like he asked and that took a few minutes. "It seems you're turning into a man, Felicity," Quintin suddenly said. My eyebrow automatically rose with what he said. "A-are you serious? I know in myself that I am—I'm a hundred percent a woman," I firmly said, loud and proud. "I mean—aren't you? You weren't born that way. My point is, you don't have anything to doubt. You are who you are, yeah—we're already there, but to think what you have there hiding inside your pants—" he said, intentionally cutting the last sentence, but I got what he meant. He had a point there, but I was certain what I was. "It's like you're a tomboy in that position," he added, followed by a chuckle. I was speechless for a moment. Only the sounds of cutlery from diners, hurried cooks in the kitchen and Quintin laughing were audible. Those sounds around us were making my thoughts more confusing than before. As Quintin laughed, I was in silence, wondering if Quintin was right or if I could force myself to believe he was wrong. I had a strong feeling he was right in his theory. Yet, hey! I had come out as gay and eventually got attracted to a woman. Hell no! It was difficult to describe, but I felt as if something within me jolted me awake from a deep sleep. Does this even make sense? "I have a question." Quintin broke the silence when he spoke again. I didn't notice he had already stopped laughing and he went back to looking at me seriously. "Shoot," I quickly answered. I picked up the glass of water sitting at the table to wet my throat, which seemed to be dry at that moment. "Have you ever tried sleeping with a woman?" I coughed as the water I sipped choked me. Some spilled out of my mouth. Good thing I immediately grabbed the table napkin and covered my mouth. "M-my G-God, Q-Quintin," I uttered while still coughing. "I'm serious—have you before?" he repeated. I could see from his expression how serious he was about that, but my answer was, "Well, I haven't—" "Alright, let's go now then." He didn't even let me finish answering. He suddenly stood up from his seat and took his wallet from his pocket. He took out two thousand peso bills and left them under the glass of water in front of him. "A-and where are we going?" I was perplexed by his sudden decision to leave the restaurant. "Just follow my car," he answered. More like an order. Quintin walked out of the restaurant without even waiting for me. I had no idea where we were going, but I thought if that was the way to solve what was bothering me at that time, I had no reason to protest anymore. I followed his blue Rolls-Royce. We got stuck in traffic for a few minutes and after a few turns and overtaking, we reached Valenzuela City. Quintin stopped in front of this thirteen-foot-tall black iron gate. A security guard approached his car and he instantly smiled when he discovered who was inside the vehicle. They talked for a little while before the guard let us in. That was the moment I discovered that inside was only a house. It seemed like a factory with its tall gate and high concrete walls. It didn't look like a normal house when we got near it and in their parking spaces, there were a bunch of luxurious cars. What the heck is this place?" I muttered when I could no longer help myself but ask. Two men appeared unexpectedly and blocked Quintin's car. Both wore formal attire and carried walkie-talkies. The person who had blocked my car motioned for me to stop. Quintin went first. It appeared that they were the ones assisting cars there. They searched for available parking spaces. I parked right next to Quintin's car. We got out of the car almost at the same time. One of the two men with the walkie-talkie asked us to follow him. I hadn't heard a single word from Quintin since we arrived at that place. When the guy pushed the door, it exposed what kind of place we were—a casino. Even though that day was Christmas, there were so many people. I recognized so many familiar faces. I saw a few well-known actors and actresses. There were some politicians as well, busy with their cards while playing poker. That secret casino was so alive. The slot machines, laughter, cheering, and those women bragging about what they have for each other. We continued walking and I was still unaware of where we would be heading. I was only hoping Quintin didn't bring me there to gamble because I wasn't into those kinds of things. The man we were following finally stopped in front of one room. He opened the door. "Boss is inside, sir," the man said, letting us go in. He left us from there. I followed Quintin. "Boss! Long time no see!" I was stunned when someone suddenly yelled. A skinny man with tattooed arms approached Quintin and hugged him. When he let Quintin go, his smile vanished when he saw me standing behind Quintin. He looked at me from head to toe with so much confusion. "B-Boss, I think it's diff—," the man said after turning to Quintin. I knew he wanted to say something that would offend either me or Quintin, but he chose to stop himself. I, on the other hand, raised my eyebrows at him. He moved away from me after giving me a judgmental stare, making me raise my eyebrow more while grinning. He looked away when he got defeated in our eye-to-eye battle. "I-It looks like you brought a brave cat with you, boss." It seemed I scared the hell out of him. He looked like he had a lot to blow with his tattoos but he seemed too easy to frighten. "W-what are we even doing here?" I asked Quintin. My voice was low, but enough for anyone close to me to hear. "I already told you I would help you, remember?" he answered. "Yes, you did, but what help, and what is this place?" I replied as I looked around. It seemed like a bad idea because it creeped me out when I saw so many women nearly naked with the kind of clothing they were wearing. "This is the perfect place for you to find yourself." "Did I even tell you I was looking for myself?" I asked in return. I caught a few women not far from us looking strangely at me. I immediately thought they were eyeing my expensive handbag, which is why I immediately hugged it tightly. "I don't like this place, Quintin," I whispered to Quintin, who happened to be talking to the tattooed skinny guy at that moment. I heard someone chuckle right after I spoke and I saw the skinny guy. "It looks like it's looking for something different, boss," I heard him say. I gave him a deadly stare. Maybe he was thinking he looked good with his tattoos. He was thin and short in height. He even dyed her hair red. It made him look like a malnourished chicken with his hair on fire. "You're not going to stop?" I asked him. He backed away so fast, hiding by Quintin's side and he seemed like a child getting bullied and asking for help from his big brother to defend him, but Quintin didn't do anything to help him out. "M-madam isn't here, boss. There's no one to take care of things," the skinny guy told him, going back to what they were talking about before I walked close to them. "Okay, thank you," Quintin said and he turned to me.