Chapter 2

I woke up with heaviness in my chest that didn't belong to sleep.

It wasn't the kind of weight you could shake off by stretching or closing your eyes again. It stayed there—persistent, quiet, almost patient as if it knew I wouldn't be able to ignore it for long.

For a few seconds, I just lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling, letting the silence settle around me. But even in that silence my thoughts refused to cooperate. They kept circling back, stubborn and relentless, replaying a moment I wished I could forget.

“You.”

The word echoed in my mind, louder now than it was when I first said it. I could still see it—the way Adrian looked at me after, the way his expression didn't break, didn't shift, didn't even hesitate.

Parang hindi siya nagulat.

Parang matagal na niyang hinintay marinig ‘yon.

And that was the part that unsettled me the most.

“Elara!”

I closed my eyes tightly for a second before pushing myself up, already bracing for the energy that always came with Mira's presence.

Right on cue, the door opened without a knock.

She walked in like she owned the space, holding two cups of coffee, her expression bright and completely unaware of the storm quietly building inside me.

“Good morning to the future Mrs. Del Rosario,” she greeted teasingly, setting one cup down in front of me.

The words landed heavier than they should have.

I didn't reach for the coffee.

“Don't call me that,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

Mira paused mid-motion, her brows pulling together slightly as she studied me more carefully.

“Why? Totoo naman,” she said, though her tone softened.

“That doesn't mean I want it,” I replied, finally looking at her.

There was a brief silence—one that felt unfamiliar between us. Mira wasn't someone who missed things easily. She noticed shifts, changes, small details people thought they could hide.

And right now she was noticing me.

“Elara…” she started, her voice gentler now. “What's wrong?”

The question hung in the air, heavier than expected.

What was wrong?

Was it the engagement? The pressure? Or the fact that the only thing I could clearly feel… wasn't meant for the person I was supposed to marry?

I hesitated.

How do you tell your best friend that the man she's excited about—the one she's already half-jokingly claiming is the same person you're trying so hard not to think about?

“I’m just tired,” I said finally, forcing a small, unconvincing smile.

Mira didn’t believe me.

It was obvious in the way her eyes lingered, in the way she tilted her head slightly as if trying to read between the lines I refused to say out loud.

But instead of pushing, she exhaled and leaned back.

“Fine,” she said, though her tone carried a quiet warning that this conversation wasn’t over. “Then let’s talk about something else.”

I already had a feeling I wouldn’t like whatever came next.

“I got invited to the Del Rosario estate today.”

My heart reacted before I could stop it—sharp, sudden, immediate.

“What?”

“Don Rafael wants both families to start bonding,” she said, rolling her eyes lightly. “Which means we’re going. Today.”

The word today echoed in my mind like a deadline I wasn’t ready for.

I swallowed slowly, trying to process it.

“Today?” I repeated, hoping I misheard.

She smiled, completely unaware of how that one word shifted everything inside me.

“Yes. Today.”

The Del Rosario estate didn’t welcome you. It assessed you.

From the moment we arrived, there was this unspoken pressure in the air—like the place itself was watching, judging, deciding whether you belonged there or not.

Everything was too perfect.

The kind of perfection that didn’t feel comforting—but controlled.

Calculated. Deliberate.

“This place is insane,” Mira whispered beside me, her eyes wide as she took everything in.

I barely heard her.

My focus was elsewhere—on the tightening in my chest, on the way my fingers curled slightly at my sides, on the quiet, creeping awareness that stepping inside meant facing something I wasn’t ready to confront.

“Relax,” Mira nudged me lightly, smiling. “Dito ka na titira soon.”

The words didn’t comfort me.

If anything, they made the weight in my chest settle deeper.

Before I could respond, the massive front doors opened. Lucas stepped out, his smile immediate and genuine the moment he saw me.

“You made it,” he said warmly, walking toward me.

“Hi,” I replied, returning the smile out of courtesy.

He looked happy. Sincerely, openly happy. And that made everything worse.

“Come in,” he said, gesturing inside. “Everyone’s waiting.”

Everyone.

The word echoed. Meaning—him.

I felt it before I saw him.

That subtle shift in the air.

That quiet tension threading through the space.

And then—there he was.

Adrian stood near the staircase, his posture relaxed but distant, his presence somehow stronger because he wasn’t trying to be noticed.

He didn’t need to be.

There was something about him that pulled attention naturally—not loudly, not obviously—but in a way that made you aware of him even when you didn’t want to be.

And then—he looked at me.

Just like that. No hesitation. No surprise. Like he already knew I would look back.

And I did. Of course, I did. And just like last night—everything else faded.

Not completely. Not enough for anyone else to notice. But enough for me to feel it.

That same pull. That same unspoken tension. That same dangerous awareness that something was already happening—even if neither of us was willing to say it.