When Tomorrow Comes Again

Prologue

Sherwin Gatchalian was known to be a calculating man.

It was one of the first few things people learned about him.

Every decision was carefully weighed, yet never hesitated over. Every investment was studied down to the smallest detail. Every risk was accounted for, every possibility considered before he ever allowed himself to make a move.

As the CEO of one of the country's rising investment firms, it was a trait people admired.
Yet, it was also the trait his staff worried about the most.

People who only know the CEO version of Sherwin called him brilliant.

Decisive.

Meticulous.

Calculating.

Some even joked that Sherwin could probably calculate the return on investment of anything-including whether a cup of coffee was worth the money or a piece of bread is worth fighting for.

He never hesitated.

He never left things unsaid.

He never assumed tomorrow was guaranteed.

At least, that was what people thought.

Behind closed doors, however, what they never joked about was how often he stayed in his office until midnight.

Or how his assistant and staff had long stopped expecting him to actually eat dinner whenever they asked, though they still did.

Or how the security guards downstairs had become accustomed to seeing the lights on at the executive floor long after everyone else had gone home.

Or how his friends and relatives have always asked, kailan kaya magkakaroon ng partner si Sherwin?

A question meant to tease, yet somewhere beneath it is something more serious, more hopeful.

Sherwin was good at numbers.

Numbers made sense.

Numbers, you can get a grasp on.

They had patterns. They had rules. They could be measured, analyzed, predicted.

But people, people were different.

People were unpredictable.

People could leave.

And Sherwin wasn't good with that.

So Sherwin learned, somewhere along the way, that perhaps the easiest way to live was to keep everything within his control.

Including himself.

"Sir?"

The quiet knock against his office door gently pulled him away from the spreadsheet glowing on his computer.

His assistant stood by the doorway, a paper bag in his hands.

"Oh, nandito ka pa pala. Ano 'yan?" Sherwin asked, taking off his glasses as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Yung dinner po sa baba. Pinagbalot na po namin since hindi pa po kayo nakakakain."

Sherwin glanced at the clock.

9:07 P.M.

He hadn't realized it was that late.

He let out a soft sigh before putting his glasses back on.

"Sige, patong mo na lang diyan sa table. I'll eat it later."

"Sir, sabi niyo rin po 'yan kanina." His assistant gave him a look of concern. "Kaninang 6:00 P.M. pa po."