Scent of a Forbidden Vow

The night I got engaged, I realized something terrifying—you can agree to a future your heart has already rejected.Hindi ako umiiyak.Hindi rin ako galit.But there was this strange, suffocating stillness inside me—like I was watching my own life unfold from a distance, unable to stop it.“Smile, Elara.” My mother's voice came out soft, almost gentle—but I knew better. It wasn't a request. It never was.I looked at my reflection one last time.Perfect hair.Perfect dress.Perfect daughter.A girl carefully prepared for a life she didn't choose.“Handa ka na?” my father asked from behind me.Am I?The answer sat at the tip of my tongue, heavy and dangerous.No.But I swallowed it.“I'm ready,” I said instead.Because that's what I've always been taught to say.The moment I stepped into the hall, the scent hit me first.Sampaguita. White Roses. A hint of something foreign and expensive.It was beautiful.It was suffocating.And somehow, it felt like a warning.The guests were already

May mga bagay na hindi mo sinasabi—not because they aren’t real, and definitely not because they don’t matter, but because the moment you give them a voice, you lose the ability to control what comes after. Words have a way of making things permanent, of turning something you can still deny into something you’re forced to face.And right now, standing just a few steps away from Adrian Del Rosario, I could feel every unsaid word pressing in on us, filling the space between us with a tension that was too heavy to ignore but too dangerous to acknowledge.“You shouldn’t have said that.”His voice was low, controlled in a way that almost sounded effortless, but there was something underneath it—something restrained, something dangerously close to slipping through the cracks of his composure. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t even a disappointment. It was something far more complicated than that.I folded my arms slowly, more as a way to ground myself than to put up any kind of defense. I needed s

There’s a certain kind of guilt that doesn’t come from doing something wrong—but from knowing you’re about to.It lingers in the quiet moments, in the spaces between conversations, in the way your chest tightens even when everything around you looks perfectly fine.And the worst part? You still don’t stop.“Elara?”Lucas’ voice pulled me back before I could drift too far into my thoughts again.We were still in the garden, though most of the guests had already gone back inside. The lights cast a soft glow around us, making everything feel calmer than it actually was.“Hmm?” I responded, turning to him.He was looking at me—really looking this time. Not casually, not politely. There was something more intentional in the way his gaze lingered.“You’ve been quiet again,” he said gently.I let out a small breath. “I’m sorry.”“Hey,” he said quickly, stepping a little closer. “You don’t have to apologize for that.”His tone was soft—reassuring in a way that made something in my chest ache.

There are different ways people leave.Some disappear completely—quiet, sudden, easy to understand. But some stay. Some stay close enough to be seen, close enough to be felt, while still making themselves impossible to reach.And somehow—that kind hurts more.“Do you think bagay kami?”Mira’s voice still echoed inside my head long after the conversation ended.And the worst part? I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.Because the moment I looked up and saw Adrian already watching me from across the room, every thought inside me tangled into something too complicated to say out loud. Like he was waiting for my answer too. Like somehow—it mattered to him.But then he looked away first. And just like that, the moment disappeared before I could even understand what it meant.The following weeks settled into a pattern I quickly learned to hate.Adrian kept his distance from me exactly the way he was supposed to.No more lingering conversations. No more quiet moments alone. No more dangerous honesty

The most dangerous thing about almost is that it gives people hope. It almost looks like a possibility. It almost feels close enough to reality that people start building dreams around it, convincing themselves that if they just wait a little longer, push a little harder, stay a little more patient then eventually, it will almost become something real.But sometimes, almost is just another word for disaster waiting to happen. And the worst part? Not everyone realizes that at the same time.“You’re smiling at your phone again.”Mira immediately looked up from the screen in her hands, glaring at Bella who sat lazily across from her on the couch inside the Del Rosario library.“I was not.”Bella raised an eyebrow. “You literally just did.”Mira quickly locked her phone. “You’re weirdly observant.”“I have to be. Everyone around me keeps making emotionally questionable decisions.”That earned a laugh from Mira, though the faint blush on her cheeks remained impossible to hide.And Bella no