Boracay Sunset – Part 1: The Best Man

The wedding was on the white sand of Bulabog Beach, under a canopy of white roses and paper lanterns. The sea was turquoise and calm. The air smelled of salt, frangipani and grilled lapu-lapu, and the string band had been playing Kahit Ayaw Mo Na for the third time.

Ana had come alone. Her cousin was the bride, and her cousin had insisted she could not spend a whole weekend in Boracay without a date.

"Don't worry," the bride had said. "I've found you someone."

"Please don't," Ana had replied.

At the reception, the seating chart put her at table six, beside a tall, sun-browned man in a cream barong who was laughing at a joke he had clearly been told many times.

"Miguel," he said, holding out his hand. "The best man. Apologies. I was told to be charming and I'm failing badly."

"You're not failing," said Ana. "You've made the entire table laugh."

"That's because the groom's uncle is deaf and I've been shouting."

She laughed. He smiled, and his eyes crinkled at the corners.

The dinner was long and loud, with speeches and toasts. Miguel had a dry wit that surprised her every time he opened his mouth. He told her about growing up in Iloilo, the mango trees in his grandmother's yard, the way he had nearly drowned at eight and never stopped being afraid of deep water.

"And yet you're a diving instructor now," said Ana.

"I'm a very careful diving instructor," said Miguel. "I make the students carry the heavy tanks."

"That sounds like cowardice."

"It's wisdom," he said, with a sly look. "Which you'd know nothing about, I'm sure."

She threw a napkin at him, and he caught it, grinning.

After the dancing, the crowd drifted towards the beach bar. Ana stayed at the edge of the sand, shoes in her hand, watching the last colours fade from the sky. Miguel came to stand beside her, a bottle of cold San Miguel in each hand.

"You look like you need one," he said, handing her a bottle.

"I'm not sure I do," said Ana, but she took it.

They stood in silence for a while, the waves whispering at their feet. The sky turned violet, then indigo, and the first stars began to show over the water.

"Can I ask you something?" Miguel said.

"Yes."

"Do you always leave weddings early, or is it just this one?"

"Only the ones where I'm seated next to someone dangerously charming," said Ana.

He laughed quietly. "Then I'll try to be less dangerous."

"Don't," said Ana. "I'd miss it."

Miguel turned to look at her properly, his face serious and warm in the dim light from the bar.

"Can I walk you back to your hotel?" he asked. "Along the beach, the long way, so we can see the stars?"

"Yes," said Ana. "But only if you promise to stop being so charming before we reach the road."

"I can't promise that," said Miguel. "But I can promise to stop if you want me to."

"Green?" she asked, half teasing.

"Green," he said, and offered his arm.