LOGIN
MELLOW.
“We’re eleven weeks pregnant!” the bitch squeals, exalted by cheers from everyone. Zeath showing up at the Lupin family’s dinner with his ex-girlfriend is insulting. And I can’t believe my eyes as I gaze at them standing at the head of the table. He doesn’t explain himself. Nobody else does. But they know what the heck’s going on and are hell-bent on leaving me in the dark. It crosses my mind to remove myself from the situation. However, instead of doing that, I blurt out, “Zeath, babe, what’s going on?” The man ignores me. Now I’m just sitting where I am, eyes stuck on him as he pulls out a seat for his ex before sitting beside her. She softly bumps her shoulder against his, then watches as he dishes food for her. I want to believe it’s a prank. And I’m waiting for someone to say, ‘Got ya!’ Can someone please tell me what is going on? I can’t be the only one who’s curious, right? Except, I am. No one seems to mind. They’re all absorbed in the moment, acting like it’s normal. And the more their silence stretches, the more it feels like I could choke on my food. Mama Tia, Zeath’s grandma, has been watching me for some time now. She was always the best comfort: soft-spoken and never hesitated to mention her love for me. But her next words drive a spike through my heart. “Whoever feels uncomfortable should leave.” Aside from me, no one else feels uncomfortable, at least not the way I see it, which means those words are for me. If only she knew I’m not leaving until I’m done with my dinner. Zeath’s brother raises a champagne glass. “A toast to my brother, his beautiful wife, Yolie, and their blessed unborn.” After a moment of hesitation, everyone raises their glasses in silence. I do too, but I frown deeply. I only now observe the toaster, East, from beneath my lashes while sipping my wine. He meets my gaze and smirks, then relaxes in his seat. “Sorry, I forgot you, Melon,” he says. He’s mocking me. “Shall we toast to your twenty-six years of abstinence, then?” I scoff. Fuck East and his rotten toast. I could squash his glass on his head and force the pieces into his mouth. Pray that it cuts the bloody fucker’s tongue. “To hell with you, East,” I snap, right before Zeath gets up noisily and heads toward the restroom. And despite the eyes on me, I follow him. Male toilet or not, I stand behind him as he relieves himself. He doesn’t even act like I’m there, going as far as trying to leave when he’s done. Only, I’m faster. I push myself to his front before resting against the door to block his way out. “This is about the child, isn’t it?” I rap, taking a breath and a moment of silence before adding, “Or sex.” Zeath chose not to reply. He slowly walks to the sink again, resting his hands on it while looking at himself in the mirror. His side face is what I get—a smoking beauty, but mostly the center of enthrallment that flaunts a crown in the wake of its glory. I want to hold him like I always did: jump on his massive form and stick my arms and legs around him like a koala while reveling in the feel of his bulging crotch against me. He’s way past six feet, while I’m eye-level with his chest. The courage to measure my height hasn’t really found me yet. What’s the use, anyway? It’s better to see it than to count in feet, after all. “Zeath,” I sigh before pulling myself from the door to approach my husband with a whisper, “We were fine... yesterday. This morning too. Fuck, even an hour ago. What went wrong?” I stop about two paces from him, just enough to view him fully. “Answer me, Zeath, please. We’ve never quarreled, we’ve never argued, we’ve never disagreed or misunderstood each other, so this is just... weird.” The man tries to walk away again. This time, I lunge at him, nudging him backward with my chest so he won't go near the door. Every action he takes is bound to erase every trace of what we had. And he seems to know that, to want that. “Is this how you want to do this? Be weird?” I bark, pissed to the core. “I never thought I’d ever have to do this, but maybe I should!” Fingers curled and secured, each fist pounds repeatedly into Zeath’s chest. “You embarrassed me in front of your fucking family, Zeath! Stop being a coward! You can’t just ghost me, can you? This is not what we are! This is not what we dreamed of becoming, so tell me, babe, tell me why you’re doing this!” I’m left in a puffing and panting state when I’m done, while he merely stands in front of me, staring down at me with eyes colder than the Eastern Antarctic. “Are you being threatened?” I mutter amidst deep breaths, unable to stop my heart from beating very fast. Then I nod as if realizing something. “You’re being threatened, right?” There’s so much I know about Zeath. And it’s that he has so many enemies they’re nearly uncountable. The ones he got from high school and college that grew into adulthood are breathing well. Not to mention that bring the Chairman of Lupin Group, it’s either the masses against him or competing groups. Hell, even his brother’s a damn villain. And maybe Mama Tia should start shredding her peels of goodwill as well. Who knew what they made him do? Seeing as I haven’t given him a child or consummated our marriage yet, he must have been pressured into feeling the need for one. Maybe this is all my fault for keeping to my family’s damn law! What does it provide, anyway, aside from a broken marriage? “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Mellow,” Zeath says flatly, “or envy either.” Those words roll right into my brain. They make me even angrier. “You think I’m jealous and envious?” I yell, throwing my hands in frustration. “Thirty-something fucking months together, and that’s what you reduce me to? I don’t even know if I’m mad at you. Maybe it’s disappointment. I expected so much more, and these actions of yours are lower than the ocean’s depths!” I smack his chest with that last word, then I turn around to open the door, stepping out before facing the motherfucker again. “But, oh, you will tell me the reason. I give you today as a pass. I won’t be so compliant next time.” The sound of the slamming door is thrilling and satisfying, yet not enough to quench the pain boiling in my chest. I never knew agony could drive so deep. How would I, though? I’m the Fanning princess. Even as my sister would take over my mom’s factories, I got freedom. And I was satisfied. How many can say they married the man they loved, attended the school they wanted, and could have whatever in the damn world pleased them? I’m Mellow Fanning Lupin, the second daughter of Country Zee’s president. But fairy tales are mere delusions. They’re colorful... even blinding. Until the sheaths come off and worms writhe in the distaste of a painful reality. Zeath Lupin and I have been married for two years. We are the perfect model couple. Always trending for the right reasons. I thought we were in love. But maybe not. The pretense only had a quick run under a storm we couldn’t catch its prints—I couldn’t catch its prints. Now that I’m caught up with it, I’m stepping into its deep footprints. Squelchy ones that trap my legs in the mud like a sinkhole. My knees are feeble and threatening to fail in the discomfort of my heels. Still, I keep them going. I can’t be caught slacking off even as tears claw at my glands, stinging my eyes, an antagonist to my desire to stay strong.Polinel doubles up with a guffaw, waving the gun in the air as if it’s a flag. Then she rises to her feet. “It’s funny, isn’t it, mother—that your favorite daughter is eager to see you dead?” She queries mockingly. “How very pitiful. Do you know I’ve always envied you, Mellow…?” Right, that’s a small and subtle step to knowing her weak point. “…Mother always saw you as the best of us both. She wanted you to take over the factory instead of me. I remember how desperate I was to show her that I could actually beat you and be the best, yet she wouldn’t buy any of that. How fervent she was to hold on to her little girl who went ahead to marry her fantasy husband, ignoring me who was right next to her.” There! There’s a w
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve blacked out and woke up only to find myself in strange places.Today is one of those days. Except, unlike other times, I’m seated in a metal chair, my hands chained behind it. I look around to check what I could make of the surrounding. Nothing. Just an empty, dusty space with piles of gun parts and a few huge cardboard boxes. The place stinks as well, gathering this tough stench of metal.
When I asked the hospital if Zeath had woken up, they told me he might take some time to do so, but they would be watching him.Yet here I am being the Zeath’s keeper. I want to talk to him and urge him to wake up, but even my lips feel too heavy to move. What’s the use talking to him anyway? It’s not like he’d hear my voice.
When the DPO said some of his men would watch me, he wasn’t lying—because now I’m walking into a cozy bar hoping to escape the rest of my problems only to find two men in uniforms block my way.“I can’t even get a damn drink?” I ask. One of them stares at Zeath’s car that I drove. “Oh, well. You know what? I’m still gonna drink…” I squeeze Zeath’s car keys into one’s palm, “…and you can go ahead and drive me back home or the hospital afterward, at least save your own fucking fuel.” I cut my way between the men, pushing past them into the bar and making straight for the counter. “Please give me anything strong enough to knock me out,” I tell the barman who immediately gets to work.
How is it that any of this is even happening? “I mean, Zeath wasn’t even shot OUTSIDE the warehouse. Everything happened INSIDE it,” I argue with a huff. “And, yes, the place is filled with boxes but I’m sure as hell that there’s no gold inside.” “There is, actually. If you were opportune to continue with your intention you would have known.”I take my prized gaze back to the man. Maybe it’s to check the sincerity in his expression or to examine his foolishness through his stare. Which is it?
The emergency arrived after a while—a long while, actually. They mentioned something about the lateness being due to how remote the area was but I was more concerned about the man who had been sinking in his own pool of blood.When we reached the nearest hospital, Zeath’s unconscious body was wheeled to the operation room while I was left to roam the emergency section hallway.And now I’m growing more miserable by the hour at the thought of Zeath life slipping out of his own hands.







