The Morning After the Night

Masakit.

Iyon agad ang unang naramdaman ni Aly pagkadilat ng kanyang mga mata.

Parang pinupukpok ang loob ng ulo niya.

Hindi simpleng hangover.

Kundi isang mabigat, pumipintig na sakit na para bang may naglaro ng martilyo sa kanyang sentido buong gabi.

“Argh…” mahina niyang daing habang sapo ang ulo.

Ang paligid ay hindi pamilyar.

Masyadong tahimik.

Masyadong elegante.

Masyadong malamig.

Dahan-dahan niyang iminulat ang mata niya nang mas maayos.

At doon siya natigilan.

Isang buong wall ng salamin ang bumungad sa kanya floor-to-ceiling glass windows na tanaw ang buong lungsod.

Gabi pa rin sa labas.

O madaling araw?

Hindi niya alam.

Ang alam lang niya hindi ito ang villa.

Hindi rin ito hotel.

Hindi ito kahit anong lugar na kilala niya.

“Where… am I?” paos niyang bulong.

Umupo siya nang marahan.

At doon niya napansin ang isa pang mas nakakagulat.

Isang malaking kama.

Black silk sheets.

Minimalist luxury design.

At siya

nakahiga sa gitna nito na parang hindi bagay sa lugar.

“Wait…” Napatingin siya sa sarili niya.

At doon siya tuluyang nanlamig.

Isang oversized white shirt ang suot niya.

Lalaki ang shirt.

Malaki.

Hanggang hita niya ang haba.

Napakagat siya ng labi.

“Anong… suot ko?”

Hinila niya nang kaunti ang laylayan.

At doon siya natigilan nang tuluyan.

Wala siyang suot na shorts.

At higit sa lahat

wala rin siyang panty.

“…What the hell.”

Napaupo siya nang tuwid, biglang gising ang buong sistema niya.

“NO—no no no no—”

Hinawakan niya ang sarili, sinusubukang alalahanin kung may nangyari.

Kung may sakit.

Kung may bakas.

Kung may kahit ano.

Pero wala.

Walang kirot.

Walang sakit.

Walang senyales.

Huminto siya.

Napakurap.

“…Huh?”

Then slowly, as if processing reality in slow motion

“Wait. Wait. Wait.”

She checked again.

Wala.

Her breathing steadied slightly.

Napahawak siya sa dibdib niya.

Hindi siya ginagalaw.

Hindi siya masakit.

At ang pinakaimportanteng bagay

“Virgin pa rin ako…” she whispered, half in disbelief, half in relief.

Napahilamos siya ng mukha.

“Thank God.”

Pero kasabay ng relief

dumating ang mas malaking problema.

Kung wala namang nangyari…

Bakit siya nandito?

At sino ang may-ari ng shirt na suot niya?

Bigla siyang napatingin sa paligid.

Sa bedside table may isang basong tubig.

May gamot.

At isang cellphone na hindi kanya.

Black.

Expensive.

Na para bang hindi basta-basta mabibili sa normal na mundo.

Kinabahan siya.

“Okay… calm down Aly. Think.”

Pero mas lalo lang gumulo ang isip niya.

Isang bagay ang napansin niya.

Sa kaliwang kamay niya.

Something cold.

Something heavy.

Something wrong.

She slowly lifted her hand.

At doon niya nakita iyon.

Isang diamond ring.

Hindi maliit.

Hindi simple.

Hindi cheap.

Kundi isang bagay na kumikislap sa liwanag ng silid na parang may sariling presensya.

“Ano ‘to…” bulong niya.

Pinikit niya ang mata.

Hinawakan ang singsing.

Real.

Solid.

Expensive.

“Hindi ito… costume jewelry.”

Her heart started beating faster.

“Bakit may singsing ako?”

isang flash.

Isang imahe.

Madilim na elevator.

Mga ilaw ng lungsod.

Isang lalaki.

Mabigat na titig.

Mga halik.

Mainit.

Delikado.

“Ugh…” Napahawak siya sa ulo.

“Hindi… hindi ko maalala nang maayos…”

Sunod-sunod na imahe.

Buhat siya.

Tawa niya.

Isang lalaking nagsasabing claiming.

At isang boses

“You won’t survive me.”

Napahigpit ang hawak niya sa bedsheet.

“Oh my God…”

Bigla siyang napatayo.

Pero agad ding napahawak sa kama dahil sa hilo.

“Okay, okay, okay… focus. Breathe.”

Lumapit siya sa salamin.

At doon niya nakita ang sarili niya.

Gusot ang buhok.

Namumula ang labi.

Mukhang… lasing.

At pagod.

Pero hindi wasak.

Hindi nasaktan.

Which only made everything more confusing.

“Anong nangyari kagabi…” mariin niyang tanong sa sarili.

CLACK.

May tunog ng pinto.

Natigilan siya.

Nanigas.

Slowly, bumukas ang malaking pinto ng penthouse bedroom.

At pumasok taong kilalang-kilala ng buong mundo

Si Damon Mondragon.

Naka-black shirt.

Sleeves rolled up.

Parang walang nangyaring kaguluhan kagabi.

Calm.

Controlled.

Dangerously composed.

Tumigil siya sa pinto.

At tumingin sa kanya.

Diretso.

“You’re awake.”

Aly froze.

“…You.”

Damon stepped inside.

Hindi nagmamadali.

Parang siya ang may-ari ng buong mundo.

Which, honestly, he probably was.

“Nasaan ako?” she asked sharply.

“My penthouse.”

“Bakit ako nandito?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he looked at her.

From her messy hair.

To his shirt on her body.

To the ring on her finger.

“Ang dami mong tanong sa umaga.”

“Mr Mondragon.” Lumalim ang boses niya. “Answer me.”

He walked closer.

Slow steps.

Measured.

Then stopped a few feet away.

“You don’t remember anything?”

Her chest tightened.

“I remember… some things.”

“Like what?”

She hesitated.

“T-the…Kissing.”

His eyes darkened slightly.

“Good.”

“GOOD?!” Napaangat ang boses niya. “What do you mean good?!”

Damon tilted his head.

“You’re still alive. That’s good enough for me.”

Napaatras siya.

“Wait. Wait. Wait. Stop talking like that.”

He watched her carefully.

Then calmly said

“You’re my wife now.” Ms Alysandra Reyes

Silence.

Aly blinked.

Once.

Twice.

“…Excuse me?”

Damon didn’t move.

“You signed the contract.”

Her stomach dropped.

“What contract?”

“The marriage contract.”

Napahawak siya sa dibdib niya.

“That’s impossible.”

“It’s very real.”

“No. No no no—” Napailing siya. “I don’t even remember signing anything.”

“You were drunk.”

“So?! That doesn’t make it valid!”

Damon’s gaze sharpened.

“In my world, it does.”

Her breath hitched.

“Your world?!”

He stepped closer again.

This time, she didn’t move back.

“Last night,” he said quietly, “you kissed me in public, clung to me, and told me you liked dangerous things.”

Her face flushed.

“I was DRUNK.”

“And you said ‘don’t stop’.”

She froze.

“…I—”

“You said it twice.”

Her mind went blank.

“No… I wouldn’t…”

Damon leaned slightly closer.

“You did.”

Silence again.

Heavy.

Suffocating.

Aly swallowed hard.

Then whispered

“…That doesn’t mean I agreed to marriage.”

Damon reached into his pocket.

And pulled out a folded document.

Black seal.

Official stamp.

Legal papers.

“Then read this.”

He handed it to her.

With shaking hands, she took it.

As she opened it

her world shifted.

Names.

Signatures.

Witnesses.

Date.

And at the bottom

her signature.

Clear.

Real.

“I… I didn’t…” she whispered.

Damon watched her carefully.

“You did.”

Her hands trembled.

“This is fake.”

“It’s not.”

“I would never—”

“You did when you were drunk enough not to remember.”

Her breathing quickened.

“This is insane.”

Damon stepped closer until he was right in front of her.

“You asked me not to stop last night.”

Her eyes snapped up.

“That was not consent to marriage!”

He studied her face.

Then calmly said

“You kissed me first.”

“I was drunk!”

“And I didn’t stop you.”

A heavy silence fell between them.

Aly felt something crack inside her chest.

Confusion.

Fear.

Anger.

And something worse

the feeling that she couldn’t tell what was real anymore.

“…Why me?” she finally asked, voice smaller now.

Damon didn’t hesitate.

“Because you’re the only one who doesn’t look at me like a monster.”

She blinked.

“…What?”

His eyes softened just slightly.

“Everyone else either fears me or wants something from me.”

He leaned closer.

“But you…” he paused. “…you looked at me like I was just a man.”

Her breath caught.

“That’s not an excuse to trap me in a marriage.”

Damon’s jaw tightened.

“I didn’t trap you.”

“You signed it without me knowing!”

“You were there.”

Her voice cracked.

“I was DRUNK.”

“And still you chose me,” he said quietly.

Silence.

Aly stepped back.

“No. No. I didn’t choose anything.”

Damon watched her.

And for the first time

there was something unreadable in his eyes.

Not anger.

Not dominance.

Something deeper.

Possession mixed with restraint.

“You’re scared,” he said softly.

“I should be!”

He didn’t deny it.

Instead, he said

“You’ll understand soon.”

“I don’t want to understand!”

Damon looked at her for a long moment.

Then stepped back.

“Eat something.”

“What?”

“You didn’t eat last night.”

“I don’t care about food right now!”

He turned slightly.

“Your body does.”

Aly clenched her fists.

“This is kidnapping.”

“No.”

“This is forced marriage.”

His voice dropped.

“You’re still free to walk out that door.”

She froze.

Damon met her eyes.

“But if you do…”

A pause.

“…you won’t be safe outside it.”

Silence.

Aly stared at him.

“Are you threatening me?”

“No.”

“Then what is that supposed to mean?”

Damon didn’t answer immediately.

Then calmly said

“It means you married a man the world fears.”

Her stomach dropped again.

“And now,” he added, “the world will know you exist.”

A cold chill ran through her.

“…What did you do to me?”

Damon turned slightly toward the door.

“I made you mine.”

And just like that

he walked out.

Leaving Aly alone in a room too big, too expensive, and suddenly too dangerous.

She looked down at her hand again.

At the ring.

At the contract.

At her reflection in the glass wall.

And whispered shakily

“…What have I gotten myself into?”