Chapter 2

I stood, smoothed the fabric of my dress, and walked toward the set. Thorne was already there, waiting under the warm wash of the key lights. The scene was styled like a cozy café — warm wooden tables, fairy lights overhead. Perfect for the ad's concept. Too perfect.

"Closer," the photographer said. "You're supposed to be lovers here."

My jaw tightened. I stepped forward, and his cologne reached me first... fresh cedar with a faint trace of something warm, something I remembered without wanting to.

His hand found my waist. My body stiffened, but the camera didn't care. His touch was light, practiced... almost tender.

"Eyes on each other," the photographer called.

I lifted my gaze. He was already looking at me and not with the detached professionalism I expected. His eyes softened, a faint smile ghosting his lips, like he was remembering something I'd worked so hard to forget.

Click.

The next pose had him leaning in, close enough for his breath to brush my cheek. I tilted my head slightly, hair grazing his jaw. Every camera click was a tug-of-war between my training and the treacherous beat of my heart. 

Pero hindi ako dapat magpa-apekto. Hindi na ako pweding mahulog sa presensya niya.

"Perfect, now the coffee shot," the photographer instructed.

A steaming cup was placed in my hands. Thorne stepped behind me, one arm curling loosely around my frame as he guided my hands toward the mug. His breath was warm against my ear.

"You're shaking," he whispered, low enough for no one else to hear.

I ignored him.

"Beautiful," the photographer said. "Now, last shot — forehead touch."

I froze. Bakit kasi kaylangan pang intimate? Inis! Paano ko iiwasan ang lalaking yan?

Before I could object, Thorne stepped forward, closing the space between us. His palm cupped the side of my face, calloused thumb brushing my cheek. Slowly, he lowered his forehead to mine.

The world went quiet. Just us, breathing the same air. His scent. His warmth. His heartbeat.

"Smile," the photographer urged.

I did. But it wasn't for the camera. It was the kind of smile you give when you're trying not to break.

And when his fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary, I knew he felt it too.

His palm was warm against my cheek, his forehead resting lightly against mine. The director called for the smile again, but all I could feel was the steady rhythm of his breathing — in, out, in.

Then, just barely above a whisper, Thorne spoke. "I never stopped."

My pulse stumbled. "Stopped what?" I managed, though my voice was almost too low to catch.

His lips curved faintly, but there was no humor in it. "You know."

Feeling naman nito alam ko lahat ng sinasabi niya. Kung sanang pinakinggan niya ako dati, hindi sana kami ganito ngayon! Hindi rin ako nahihirapan sa set up naming dalawa na pilit kong tinatago sa sarili ko! Tapos may pa ganiyan ganiyan siya ngayon? Kung suntukin ko kaya siya?

Before I could react, the photographer clapped. "Perfect! That's a wrap for this set."

The spell broke instantly. I stepped back, his hand falling from my face, the loss of contact leaving a strange, unwelcome ache. Crew members bustled between us, moving props and adjusting lights for the next scene.

I turned away, busying myself with a bottle of water, pretending to check my lipstick in the mirror they'd wheeled over. Anything to keep my hands from trembling.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him watching me. Not the casual glance of a co-worker. No... he was studying me, the way someone does when they're memorizing details.

"Miss Cortez," the assistant called, clipboard in hand. "Fitting for the second look is ready."

I nodded, walking toward the wardrobe area without sparing him another glance. But even with my back turned, I could still feel it. The weight of his gaze, and the echo of his voice saying words I wasn't ready to hear.

No, Thorne. You don't get to look at me like that. You don't get to act surprised like you didn't play a part in my downfall. Like you didn't leave me when I needed you most.

Seven years ago, I was begging for someone—anyone to believe me. Isang tao lang sana. Pero kahit ikaw... iniwan mo ko. Tinanggap mo agad ang kwento ng iba. Tinanggap mong ako ang mali. And now, we're here. In the same room, working the same campaign like nothing happened.

Fine. Let's play your game, Mr. Silva. But this time, I make the rules.

I'm no longer the girl you once left behind.

I don't need your apology, I'm not here to chase love, and I sure as hell didn't come back for you.

This time, I'm the one holding the power and all you can do is stand there and watch me rise.