Later, when Diane and Dennis' relations.h.i.+p turned serious, when she was head over heels in love with the man, Janice became closer to Dennis and calling it 'sisterly' love. This made Diane uneasy and her perceptiveness was quite accurate.

"I do wish you girls would settle your differences," said Rose.

"It's settled, Auntie," Diane said bluntly.

"But Janice's your first cousin. You've been close since you were young."

"I hate to say this again, Auntie. Not anymore."

"Diane, why do you continue with this resentment. Dennis is already out of your life and of Janice's. He already left the country and lived his own life and yet you continue hating your cousin."

Diane closed her eyes, wis.h.i.+ng to put down the receiver straight away. She did not wish to be rude but the pain from the past could not easily be forgotten. How could she forget? Those were the times when their wedding day had been set then unexpectedly her father's death came. At that very moment, she badly needed Dennis to comfort and encouraged her. It was the time when the grief of her loss draped the happiness they would be sharing on their wedding day, but Dennis and Janice betrayed her.

Diane thought if she stepped aside, Janice would marry Dennis herself. It was a surprise when she heard Janice married Joseph Sanchez a year later. But, she guessed, perhaps, her cousin didn't love Dennis. She simply didn't want to lose against Diane. For the sake of rivalry, Janice ruined the chance for Diane to find happiness.

From there, Diane started to lose faith in men, promises of love and trust, and of marriage itself.

"I do wish you reconsider," Rose said, breaking into Diane's thoughts once more. "If you won't do it for me and your uncle, just do it for your Aunt Cecille, she's like a mother to both of you."

"I can't," Diane said, and she knew her aunt would never stop, she added, "please, enough. I wish you will consider my side, my pain, and my point of view as well." She did regret that this happened to them but what happened happened. The sisterly love she had was all gone. It was replaced with hatred and unhappiness. There was nothing worth looking or patching back. She was tired of all these empty talks.

"Tell me, how to repair this gap between you and your cousin?"

"It is more than a gap. In reality, she burned the bridges with her own hands. It would take a miracle to put the ashes into a whole new bridge again. Goodbye, Auntie," Diane said, slowly placing the receiver down. She felt worn out after that single phone call from her aunt. Her hand ma.s.saged her forehead and the back of her neck. All she wanted now was someone who would pat her shoulder and accompany her to pour out her grievances.

Ah, she scolded herself. Stop thinking of finding security and solitude from men. They would betray when they couldn't get what they wanted or if they already got what they wanted from a woman. A good and trustworthy man was of the past. Finding a one-girl man was like finding a speck of gold in the sea of desert sand. (From the author: no offense for male readers. It's only Diane's point of view.)

She rested her head on the table and the face of the handsome John that morning came to mind. It made her smirk. He was no different. In fact, he was an epitome of a modern day Casanova, she thought.

As if John discerned Diane's thoughts, he unexpectedly appeared at the flower shop.