로그인Arielle Santos 24 years old never imagined that her life would be written for her — even her love story. She was raised in a modest family, a dreamer who painted her hopes in colors only she could see. But one evening, her world collapsed when her parents revealed the truth: to save their family from bankruptcy, she had to marry the son of their business partner — Evan Monteverde, the 28 years old, cold and distant heir of one of the country’s most powerful companies. Evan didn’t believe in love. To him, emotions were distractions — weaknesses that could ruin a man. He had long promised himself never to trust feelings again after being betrayed by someone he once loved. So when his father announced his arranged marriage with a woman he barely knew, he didn’t protest for love’s sake — only to end the endless lectures about “duty” and “family legacy.” Their wedding day was perfect — at least in the eyes of the guests. But behind the veil and the smiles, two strangers stood at the altar, reciting vows they didn’t mean. The words “I do”echoed in the church, but neither of them truly did. After the ceremony, they made a deal — they would live together for one year, play their roles for the sake of appearances, and then quietly separate. No love. No expectations. Just peace. But peace was harder to keep than they thought.
더 보기◆◆◆◆◆
ルーベンス家の玄関前に、一台の馬車が滑らかに停まった。御者が手綱を引くと、木製の扉が開き、中から一人の少女が飛び降りる。
秋の始まりを告げる涼やかな風が彼女の金色の髪をそっと揺らし、木漏れ日が庭の石畳に淡い模様を描いていた。
ヴィオレットの娘、リリアーナである。
彼女は小さな靴で石畳を軽快に駆け抜け、玄関に立つ伯父アルフォンスの元へとまっすぐに走っていく。庭の端では、色づき始めた葉がちらほらと舞い、風に揺れるコスモスが秋の訪れを静かに告げていた。
「伯父様~!」
リリアーナの澄んだ声が庭に響く。アルフォンスはその声に振り向き、柔らかな笑みを浮かべた。
「リリアーナ、よく来たね」
その言葉に応えるように、リリアーナは両手を大きく広げて叫んだ。
「抱っこ! 抱っこ!」
アルフォンスは声を上げて笑い、軽やかに彼女を抱き上げる。その足元で、小さな枯葉が一枚、風に乗ってひらりと舞い上がった。
「もちろんだよ、リリアーナ姫」
「ふふっ、姫じゃないもん」
リリアーナは照れくさそうに笑いながら、伯父の首に小さな手を回した。その仕草はあまりにも自然で、子どもの純粋さと愛らしさに満ちていた。
「随分と大きくなったな。もっと頻繁に来てもらわないと、成長を見逃してしまいそうだ」
後ろから馬車を降りてきたヴィオレットは、二人のやり取りを見守りながら苦笑した。
「兄上、二週間前にも来たばかりですよ?」
アルフォンスは肩をすくめ、茶目っ気たっぷりに返す。
「それでも足りないさ。遠くないのだから、一週間ごとでも、いや、三日ごとにでも来てほしいくらいだ」
その冗談にヴィオレットは小さく笑ったが、リリアーナは真剣な顔で声を張り上げた。
「伯父様! 母上とばっかり話さないで。リリアーナの話を聞いて!」
「もちろん、ちゃんと聞いているよ。どうしたのかな?」
「リリアーナね、字をいっぱい書けるようになったよ!」
その無邪気な報告に、アルフォンスの目が優しく細められた。
「それは素晴らしいね。今度、私に手紙を書いてくれないかい?」
リリアーナは嬉しそうに頷く。
「いいよ! いっぱい書くね!」
それを見ていたヴィオレットが、娘の顔を覗き込みながら微笑む。
「私には手紙を書いてくれないの、リリアーナ?」
リリアーナは一瞬きょとんとしたが、すぐににっこり笑って答えた。
「母上にも書いてあげる!」
「それは楽しみね」
ヴィオレットは微笑みながら言い、屋敷の中へと足を向けた。
――
屋敷の玄関ホールでは、執事のクリスが深々と頭を下げて迎えた。
「おかえりなさいませ、お嬢様」
「ただいま、クリス」
ヴィオレットはわずかに表情を緩める。その微笑みは一瞬だけ続いたが、ホールの大理石に反射する柔らかな光が、彼女の影を淡く浮かび上がらせた。
――かつて夢見た夫婦の幸福。
その理想と現実との落差が、今も胸の奥に澱のように残っている。
アシュフォード家に嫁ぎ、信じた相手に裏切られた記憶は、過去になったはずなのに、ふとした拍子に疼き出す。
「はぁ…」
知らず、ため息が漏れた。
そのとき、小さな手がヴィオレットの頬に触れた。
「母上、つかれてる?」
「少しだけね。馬車の揺れがちょっと堪えたのかもしれないわ」
ヴィオレットは娘の頬にそっと触れ、柔らかな笑みを浮かべた。
「部屋で休んできてもいいかしら、リリアーナ?」
「いいよ~。リリアーナは伯父様にお手紙書くの! あとね、おやつも食べたい!」
アルフォンスはくすりと笑いながら応じる。
「リリアーナのために料理人が腕を振るっているよ。厨房に行ってみるか?」
「行く!」
リリアーナの声が弾む。アルフォンスは彼女を再び抱き上げ、そのまま厨房へと向かった。ヴィオレットはゆっくりと階段を上がりながら、背後から聞こえてくる二人の笑い声に耳を傾けた。
――この子がいるから、私は歩いていける。
そう思いながらも、胸の奥に沈む影は、まだ完全には消えてはいなかった。
窓の外では、色づき始めた葉が風に揺れ、陽光を受けて柔らかな輝きを放っていた。
その美しい光景に一瞬、心が和らぐ。
けれど――その光の下でも、過去の痛みはなお、彼女の心に影を落としていた。
◆◆◆◆◆
Tahimik ang bahay. After the family dinner na muntik nang maging disaster, halos maramdaman ni Arielle ang bigat ng bawat hakbang niya paakyat ng hagdan. Ang heels niya, tinanggal na niya halfway through the stairs — parang simbolo ng pagod, hindi lang sa katawan, kundi sa lahat ng nangyari. “Bakit ko ba pinilit ‘tong dinner na ‘to?” bulong niya sa sarili, habang pinupunasan ang luha sa sulok ng mata. Kanina lang, sa harap ng mga kamag-anak ni Evan, tinanong siya ng tita nito kung kailan daw sila magkakaanak. Napangiti lang siya, pilit. Pero nang marinig niya si Evan na sagutin ng, “We’re not really rushing things,” — sa tonong walang emosyon, parang business meeting lang — doon na siya natigilan. Narinig niya ang mga bulungan. “Akala ko ba they love each other that's why they married?” “Mukhang hindi sila close.” At doon na siya tuluyang nasaktan. Pagpasok niya sa kwarto, kinuha niya agad ‘yung clip sa buhok niya at tinapon sa vanity. She didn’t mean to cry — pero ayun, dumalo
“Some lies are told not to deceive the world—but to protect a heart n kkot ready to tell the truth.” A week had passed since “the rules” were made. The mansion had grown accustomed to silence—the kind that neither hurt nor healed, just *was*. Arielle kept herself busy with painting and reading; Evan drowned in work. They shared the same roof, the same meals, but not the same world. That peace—thin as glass—shattered one afternoon when a message arrived. Evan was in his office when his phone buzzed. A short text from his father: Father: Dinner. Tonight. Bring your wife. He sighed heavily and rubbed his temple. It wasn’t a request; it was a command. Meanwhile, Arielle was tending to the garden when the housekeeper approached her. “Ma’am, Mr. Evan would like to speak with you,” the woman said politely. Arielle wiped her hands on her apron and nodded. When she entered his office, Evan was standing by the window, his posture tense. “You called me?” she asked gently.
"Some promises are made to protect the heart, not to keep it." The following morning felt heavier than usual. The argument from the night before still lingered in the air — unspoken but sharp, like broken glass no one dared to touch. Arielle woke early again, her body moving on habit. She brewed coffee, made breakfast, and arranged the table for two — even though she knew he might not join her. She didn’t expect warmth, not even apology. She just wanted peace. She had almost finished buttering her toast when Evan entered the dining room. Still in his crisp white shirt, eyes unreadable. He didn’t greet her, and she didn’t force one out of him. He sat down across from her, silence stretching between them. After a long moment, he said flatly, “We need to talk.” Her heart tensed, but she met his gaze. “About last night?” “About everything.” He leaned back in his chair, voice low, controlled. “This… marriage. This arrangement. I think we need to set boundaries — rules.” She blinked
“Some people build walls to protect themselves — others build them just to see who cares enough to tear them down.” Three days had passed since the wedding, and the Monteverde mansion had returned to its usual quiet — the kind that didn’t comfort, only echoed. Arielle woke up early as she always did. The sun was soft through the curtains, painting golden streaks across the floor. For a moment, she almost forgot everything — the deal, the vows, the expectations. Almost. She tied her hair into a bun and made her way downstairs. The house staff greeted her politely, unsure of how to address her. “Good morning, Ma’am Arielle,” the maid said shyly. Arielle smiled, gentle and genuine. “Just call me Arielle. No need for formalities.” The maid hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, Ma’am— I mean, Arielle.” The young bride laughed softly. She moved toward the kitchen, curious. To her surprise, Evan was already there — sleeves rolled up, phone in hand, speaking in a low, commanding ton
“Sometimes silence says more than any vow ever could.” The Monteverde mansion glowed softly under the night sky. Every light was on, every servant alert — as if the house itself was holding its breath for its new occupants. The newlyweds arrived past midnight. The reception was over, the guests
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