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Both women turned toward her, surprised by the seriousness in her tone.

Isabella took a quiet breath, lowering her gaze for a moment before meeting their eyes again—steady and composed.

“I’m truly grateful that you and Mom care about me,” she began softly. “But... I don’t think marriage is something that should be arranged like this.”

Her mother blinked, taken aback. “Isabella—”

“I mean no disrespect,” Isabella continued, her tone polite but unwavering. “Miguel is a wonderful man, and I’ll always think of him as a good friend. But that’s all. I’m not ready for marriage right now—and I don’t want to agree to something I can’t sincerely accept.”

Mrs. Martez’s smile faltered slightly, though her voice remained kind. “Oh, dear, we didn’t mean to pressure you. We just thought it might make both our families happy.”

“I know,” Isabella replied gently, “and I truly appreciate that. But please forgive me for declining.”

A brief silence followed. Then Isabella stood, offering them both a small, respectful smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve had a long day. I think I’ll rest for a while.”

Her mother blinked in surprise. “Isabella—”

But Isabella only nodded politely and turned away. Her mother frowned, disappointment flickering across her face, yet Isabella didn’t argue further. She walked upstairs quietly, each step light but firm.

When her door finally closed behind her, she leaned back against it and exhaled slowly.

Her heart was heavy, but her conscience was clear.

She whispered to herself, “I did the right thing.”

Downstairs, silence lingered for a few moments before Mrs. Hernando spoke, her tone apologetic.

“I’m so sorry, Anna. I didn’t expect her to react that way. She’s always been such an obedient girl.”

Mrs. Martez waved her hand gently. “Don’t apologize. She’s grown up. I suppose it’s natural for her to have her own thoughts now.”

“Yes, but still… I hope she didn’t offend you,” Mrs. Hernando said quickly, glancing toward the stairs with worry.

Mrs. Martez gave a faint smile, though her eyes carried a trace of disappointment. “No offense taken,” she said kindly. “Perhaps she just needs some time to think. They haven’t seen each other in years—who knows? Maybe they’ll like each other once they meet again. I’ll speak with Miguel about it later.”

When she left that evening, the house fell into a heavy silence.

Mrs. Hernando sat alone in the quiet living room, her fingers absently twisting the hem of her sleeve. A soft sigh escaped her lips.

“She used to agree to everything I said,” she murmured. “When did she start drifting away from me?”

---

It was Sunday morning.

Isabella had just finished jogging in the park and was walking home along the quiet street. Her thoughts wandered aimlessly, her gaze distant. Sweat clung to her skin, and her throat felt dry. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the heaviness in her chest.

Suddenly, a familiar voice snapped her out of her daze.

“Isabella!”

Startled, she looked up and saw a young woman standing in front of her. Samantha—her best friend since high school and college.

“Oh my God, Samantha! You scared me!” Isabella exclaimed, pressing a hand to her chest.

Samantha chuckled softly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. You were walking like you were miles away, so I thought I’d wake you up a little.”

Isabella sighed, brushing away the strands of hair stuck to her damp forehead.

“Yeah… maybe I was just overthinking,” she muttered.

“Are you okay? You seem a little out of it,” Samantha asked, tilting her head in concern.

“I’m fine, really. By the way, what are you doing here?” Isabella asked.

“I was on my way to your house! We planned to go out today, remember?” Samantha narrowed her eyes playfully. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“Ahh, I did! I completely forgot. I’m so sorry,” Isabella said with an apologetic smile.

“I knew it,” Samantha teased with a grin. “But what on earth made you forget your date with me?”

“Ah…” Isabella exhaled, feeling helpless. “You know, my mom tried to match me with Aunt Martez’s son—Miguel.”

“Wait, Miguel? The guy you told me about ages ago? Your childhood sweetheart, right?” Samantha teased, grinning.

“Nooo—he’s not my childhood sweetheart!” Isabella protested, laughing as her cheeks flushed pink. “He’s just a friend.”

“Alright, alright—a friend,” Samantha said, laughing. “But honestly, if your mom’s that worried, why not consider it? You’re not seeing anyone, after all.”

The teasing tone was light, but the words hit heavier than Isabella expected. She sighed, her smile fading. “I don’t even know how he is now. We haven’t seen each other in ten years.”

“Ooh… so you’re worried he turned out ugly, huh?” Samantha laughed.

“No!” Isabella frowned, half annoyed, half amused. “Samantha, can you be serious for once? God!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Samantha said quickly, raising her hands in mock surrender before softening her tone. “But seriously, I think you should at least consider it. He’s from a good family, you know. As your best friend, I’ll support whatever you decide.”

“You’re the best, you know that?” Isabella said, nudging her shoulder. “Come on, let’s go home first. I need to get ready and tell my mom.”

“Fine by me,” Samantha said cheerfully, letting Isabella grab her hand as they walked side by side.

The two friends chatted and laughed all the way home, just like they always did. Isabella didn’t have many close friends—Samantha was more like a sister, someone she could truly rely on. Their bond was unshakable.

Neither of them knew how quickly that bright morning was about to turn dark.

When they arrived at the house, Isabella twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open.

“I’m home, Mom!” she called brightly.

No answer.

She frowned. The house felt unusually quiet. Then she heard it—a faint, wheezing cough from deeper inside. Her heart dropped.

“Mom?” she called again, her voice trembling as she hurried toward the sound.

The coughing grew louder with every step.

Samantha followed close behind, her face etched with concern as they rushed inside.

They found Mrs. Hernando slumped on the couch, her face pale as paper. She clutched her chest, coughing so violently that her whole body shook.

“Mom!” Isabella cried, rushing forward.

She knelt beside her mother, gently holding her shoulders. “Mom, are you okay? Please, talk to me!”