Mag-log in“We missed all of you!” he chimed cheerfully. “We missed you too, buddy,” Dino called out, stepping forward with a wide, excited grin. “We even built hammocks and a treehouse at the orchard. You should check them out later.” “Yey! We have a treehouse and hammock!” Atlas’s face lit up instantly,
Four years later— The convoy slowed as it entered Sta. Cristina, the once-quiet town now alive with movement and color. Gone were the uneven dirt roads. In their place stretched smooth pathways that wound through thriving fields—rows upon rows of crops swaying beneath the sun, their greens deeper,
The wedding celebration slowly softened as the sun dipped behind the mountains of Sta. Cristina. Laughter still lingered in the front yard of the humble Greene home—warm, unrestrained, filled with the joy of a union long awaited. But somewhere between the laughter and the fading light—Cassie and A
A breath. “Every day.” Her smile deepened through her tears. “Every lifetime.” Their gazes remained locked—quiet, unwavering—despite the swell of applause rising around them. It filled the chapel, warm and thunderous, echoing against the wooden walls. Pride shone in the men’s eyes, steady and u
"Cassie…” His voice came out quieter than anyone had ever heard it—stripped of authority, stripped of control. Just Ashton. Just a man standing before the woman he loved. After her slow, soulful walk toward him… after Eliseo and Celia had gently, tearfully placed her hand in his— He held her now.
Cassie allowed herself to be pulled forward, though her expression remained stunned, her mind still trying to grasp the sheer extravagance hidden beneath what she thought was simplicity. Behind her, Eliseo and Carmel exchanged a glance. Then, almost in unison, their gazes drifted back to the gown.
Their ragged breaths were the only sound left in the room, filling the heavy silence as they stood far apart— still reeling from a kiss that had scorched them both. “Why are you doing this, Ashton?” Cassie’s voice trembled, thin and unsteady. She folded her arms around herself, as if holding her
“Answer me, Cassie,” Ashton said quietly. “Why can’t you value yourself?” His grip loosened—just enough to show restraint—though he still didn’t let go. “You don’t deserve this,” he continued, his voice rough, fraying at the edges. “You don’t deserve a man who cheats on you.” The shift in his t
"You heard me, Cassidy,” Ashton snarled. “Divorce that cheater.” His face was flushed, fury carved into every rigid line of his expression. Cassie barely had time to register his sudden appearance—he was like a ghost, materializing out of nowhere, bringing chaos with him. “Let me go, Ashton,” sh
“Mrs. Wallace seems to be in a foul mood.” She pulled out a chair without waiting for permission and sat down, crossing her legs with ease. Madame Rima followed suit, settling beside her daughter with the same air of entitlement. Cassie’s fingers curled around the strap of her bag. Of all the peo







