This Crazy Rich Boy - Chapter 161

At one point, Gabriel feels a pang of grief, of surrender. His own brain keeps slamming him with blame and questions: for instance, why didn’t Claire ever properly use some modern means of communication, like a damned mobile phone? Why didn’t he immediately replace the broken iPhone? What was up with that? Why didn’t he know where Claire’s hometown is? Why didn’t he know even the names of her parents, of her brothers and sisters, if she has any? It’s as if he’d only met Claire yesterday with all these unknowns in her life, and it hardly seems fair—has he been so preoccupied with himself that he forgot to ask these personal questions, get to know her better?

He slumps on the bench and tries to accept the fact that whatever his mom told Claire, it must have been utterly painful, or shameful, or both. He wants to confront Matilde, unleash his fury, but he knows Matilde would only use the “I’m old, sick, and dying” card on him, and that would shut him up, stop all his outrage in its tracks.

He looks at his phone; nobody has texted or tried to call him in the past few hours. The emptiness of his inbox makes him feel as though the whole world has abandoned him, as though everyone left along with her.

Jesus. And to think the day had started out alright.

He’ll find her eventually, he knows. He’ll use all his resources to find her. This country, even this planet, isn’t big enough for her to vanish just like that. But what really hurts him more is the fact that his family had hurt her, had treated her like dirt. His mom more so. Why does this have to be such an uphill battle? Why?

“It’s only a matter of time, Mr. Tan,” a voice says.

Gabriel looks up to see a gray-haired man in a snappy suit standing before him. The man smiles.

“And you are?”

“Oh,” the man laughs, embarrassed. “I’m the general manager of this airport. You called me up a while ago.”

“Oh, sorry,” Gabriel stands up, shakes the man’s hand. He’s red in the face; the truth is, the people he knows are acquaintances he’d met only once or twice, and he’s bad with recalling faces. “Sorry I didn’t recognize you….” Sneakily, he glances at his phone’s screen to check the man’s name. “…Clark. Must be the new uniform. Or the hair….You look ten years younger.”

Clark nods appreciatively. He understands the blunder, of course; he’s only too aware of how forgettable his face is. Even his wife would miss identifying him in a police lineup. Or so he thinks. He gestures with his arm. “I have dispatched my people across the airport. Are you sure there’s no other means we could reach her? A phone, perhaps?”

“She’s not…she’s not a huge fan of mobile phones.”

“Oh,” Clark merely says. “But surely, the description and name should appear immediately in our records. If she bought a ticket here, especially if she’s a chance passenger, it should be easy.”

“And?”

“Well, my men are still checking. Should be long, though.” Then Clark stops talking; his mouth hangs open, as he stares at something behind Gabriel. “Uhh, but I think our search if about to conclude, Mr. Tan.” Clark’s voice trails off.

“Really? Did you find her?”

“No, but I think she found you.”

“What do you…” Gabriel’s brow knits in confusion; he follows Clark’s line of sight, turning behind him.

There are few other instances in Gabriel Tan’s life that can be compared to the life-changing impact of this particular moment: when he first saw Michelle Alcantara years ago, back when Michelle seemed a vɨrġɨn who had descended from heaven; when he pulled out Lucille from a wreckage in her hometown during an ocular inspection of one of his company’s facilities, and how surprised he was that Lucille, who was a child then, was miraculously unscathed while all the other passengers were dead; when Claire Monteverde walked in through his office’s doors almost a month ago…And now, this. This vision.

Claire runs toward him. And recalling all the magic movie moments he has seen in his life, Gabriel Tan runs toward her, too, meeting her halfway, letting her throw her arms around him, her face in his ċhėst, sobbing like a child who had been lost and is now found.

The world stands still. All the questions in his head, all of them has been stilled. Claire’s here; she’s back, and nothing else matters at this moment. He breathes in the scent of her hair, the feel of her, the fragile, luscious, precious shape of her, and Gabriel closes his eyes and wishes for time to stop. For every heart ache to go away. For things to be a lot simpler: just her and him, in a world where there are no complications. Where he’s not the businessman with a gazillion worries and an overbearing mother who still wants to make decisions on his behalf; where she’s not the girl with a million worries and a ton of confusion in her heart.

“Where have you been?” he asks, finally.

She looks up and meets his gaze. She tries to open her mouth, to explain what she did, because after all, he did ask. But in a split second he changes his mind and lovingly touches a finger on her lips. “Ssshh. Forget that I asked. It doesn’t matter.”

Claire’s eyes brim with tears, glistening with meaning. But her lips. Her lips…

Clark noisily clears his throat. “Uhh. Am I correct to ȧssume that the woman you’re looking for has been found, Mr. Tan?”

Clark’s voice yank both of them from the moment.

“Uhh, ye-yes, Clark. I think we’re fine.” He turns to her. “Claire, honey, he’s the head of this airport’s management. He was helping me find you here.”

Claire nods toward Clark and smiles sheepishly, a look of embarrassment on her face. “But I was never here.”

“How do you mean?”

“I was… I intended to take a bus. I was at the north bus terminal. I was never in this airport.”

“Then why are you—”

“Dale told me. And Dean.”

“Oh,” is the only thing Gabriel manages to say.

“All’s well that ends well,” Clark says, laughing now. Although he wasn’t really responsible for actually finding Claire, he counts this reconciliation as his own success as this happened right under the roof of his airport. “If there’s anything else I can do for you, Mr. Tan, I’d be happy to lend a hand.”

“Thank you, Clark, but I think we’re fine. Thank you so much,” Gabriel says. Then he thinks up of something, as he glances at him with his head tilted. It is a small, but important “eureka!” moment. “But Clark, while we’re here, may I ask one last favor?”

“Sure,” Clark says. “Anything.”

“Can you help us secure first class tickets for two?” Gabriel says, turning to Claire. “We’re leaving town.”