Mag-log in“What, is the surprise still not over? Do you really have to do something every single day, huh?”
“Laura, watch your words! I am still your mother, you cannot talk to me like that!” There was a mix of frustration and pain in her voice—but who cares? “What’s wrong with our house that we have to move into your man’s place? We’ve lived here even before I was born, so why are you selling this house?! Do you really have no regard for the memories of Dad?!” I was furious—my voice was way too loud for a daughter speaking to her mother, but I fucking didn’t care! “Laura, we have to move on. Your father is not coming back, and it’s too painful for me to stay here surrounded by his memories. He may not have been a very faithful or good husband to me, but he was a perfect father to you.” “Yeah, that’s right! That’s freaking right! He was the perfect and best father to me, so don’t expect me to accept this ridiculous plan of yours, because there is no way in hell I ever will!” “Laura, I’m not asking you to replace your father! All I’m asking is for you to respect my decision!” “Emily, calm down. Don’t force the child. You have to understand her,” Edward said in a low, calm voice. “Let’s go, Laura. I’m very sorry about this. Calm down first.” Mom was still looking at me while he guided her out of the room. I sat down weakly at the edge of my bed. I can’t fucking take this anymore! I grabbed my large duffel bag and started packing my clothes. I won’t stay in this place, nor will I go with that fucking man my mom is about to marry. I packed a few clothes, my personal hygiene kit, accessories, uniforms, and other essentials. I hate that man, but I think he’s right—I need to calm down. And I can’t do that if I see them together every single day, acting all happy, like they hadn’t just lost a husband. Once I finished packing, I quickly changed into shorts, an oversized shirt, and sneakers, then rushed out of the room. I ran into a few of the house helpers, who stared at me wide-eyed as they cleaned. I found the two of them in the living room. They didn’t notice me immediately, so I was almost at the door when Mom called out. “Laura, where the hell are you going?!” she exclaimed. But I ignored her and walked out. “Come back here, Laura!” she shouted, but I didn’t listen. Thankfully, a taxi passed by right on time. I hailed it and got in, catching a glimpse of Mom running out the gate. Where else would I go? Obviously, to my cousin, who’s obsessed with her crush. Her house was about thirty minutes away from our subdivision. I didn’t bother calling ahead—I knew she’d be at home, probably rotting away. “Good afternoon, ma’am. Señorita is in her room,” a helper greeted me. I just nodded, still carrying my duffel bag. “Oh my god, you are so handsome—wait, what are you doing here? And why didn’t you give me a heads-up?!” my cousin scolded. “Fuck you, since when do I ever tell you when I’m coming over?” I rolled my eyes as she sat up from lying on her stomach. “I’ll stay here for a while. The guest room is empty, right? I don’t want to share a room with you.” “Wow, you’re so shameless! Get out of here and go to your own room before I slap you!” “What if I slap you first? Maybe then you’ll find what you’re looking for?” “Hehe, just kidding! Wait—” she glanced at my bag on the carpet. “Don’t tell me you ran away from home. I would never believe that!” “Then start believing, because yes, I did. If Dad were still alive, that would’ve been impossible—but not now.” She let out a sigh and sat beside me. “I mean, you’ve been acting like this for days, and you never told me why. I’m not a fucking fortune teller, nor do I have clairvoyance.” “Huh, well, you do look like a witch—okay, I’ll stop,” I said, laughing a little when she shot me a sharp glare. “Okay.” I forced myself to be serious again. “Okay, what?” She rested her chin on her hand, like she was about to listen to an old tale. “Mom said she’s going to remarry,” I muttered. “I mean, it’s just so disrespectful. It’s only been two years since Dad died, and she already wants to get married again. And the fuck—earlier this morning, the reason I decided to leave was because she just dropped the bomb that we’re moving into her new future husband’s house. What the fuck is that?! Am I just some display piece now? Is she starting a new life or something?” I felt my anger rising again, remembering the past few days. “Are you mad about the fact that your mom is remarrying, or do you feel like she’s neglecting you?” I froze and looked at her. “What?” “I mean, it’s not like your mom cheated with that guy. Your dad is gone, okay, we get that. But do you really want your mom to suffer for years, just grieving over someone who will never come back? Let’s be real here—she’s grieved enough. We all saw how hard she tried to be strong despite everything. I bet Aunt Emi really loved Uncle, but no matter what we do, he’s not coming back. Your mom endured so much for you because she didn’t want you to feel like you lost someone. But now, she’s trying to be happy again. Aren’t you glad she’s finally getting back on her feet? And it’s not like she’s neglecting you. In fact, she’s including you in her future plans. Why can’t you see that?” I couldn’t say anything right away. I hated to admit it, but Sue had a freaking point. “I feel like she’s betraying the vows they made at the altar.” “I don’t think she’s betraying your dad. I think she’s doing all of you a favor. I mean, I knew Uncle Freddie—he always wished for the best for both of you. So I think he would agree with your mom’s decision. And you? She’s doing you a favor by trying to create a new family that still includes you, rather than moving on without you.” I stared at her for a long time. She just shrugged, then went back to lying on her stomach, scrolling through her laptop again. “Give that man a chance. Who knows? He might actually bring you luck and happiness. You never know.” ——— “Feel at home, Laura. This is your home too, so don’t be shy. Your room is on the second floor, left side, second door.” I didn’t answer, too busy looking around. Just like my cousin advised, I decided to give Edward a chance to prove himself. It’s not like I’m accepting him, but I’m giving him a chance. It still feels heavy in my chest, but I’ll let it be for now. “Edward, thank you for accommodating us,” Mom said shyly as Edward took her bag. “This is your home too—” I didn’t let them finish and just headed straight to my room. The scent of lavender and citrus welcomed me as I opened the door. I looked around. The colors were neutral—white and brown—giving off a rustic beach vibe, exactly the kind of aesthetic I liked. It was relaxing. A queen-sized bed was in the center. To the right was a walk-in closet, across from it a fully equipped vanity table. Two couches sat near the glass door. I opened a door near the entrance—it was a bathroom. I sat at the edge of the bed, then flopped onto my back. One week after Sue’s advice, I thought about it carefully. Then I went home and told Mom I was giving Edward a chance. I saw the happiness in her eyes—something she hadn’t had in a long time. I sat up when I heard three soft knocks. Mom stood at the door, smiling radiantly. "Uh, dinner is ready downstairs, sweetheart. Can you join us? I’d like you to meet your Uncle Edward’s son. From what I know, he’s two years older than you." I simply nodded in response and straightened my clothes, which had wrinkled from lying on the bed. "Laura, thank you. You don’t know how happy I was when you said you’re giving Edward a chance. I promise you, he’s a good person." "I’m giving him a chance to prove himself to you, not to me. So watch and listen carefully—because you’re the one who’s going to be with him for a long time, not me." With that, we headed downstairs together and went straight to the dining area—just in time to see a freshly placed leche flan at the center of the table, right next to the main dishes. That’s my favorite! "Let’s eat. James should be here any moment now, so we can all start together," Edward said as he helped my mom into her seat. He was about to pull out a chair for me as well, but I quickly raised my hand to stop him. "I can manage," I muttered. He nodded and turned his attention back to my mom. "Dad, I’m home," a familiar voice came from behind me. "Oh, right on time! James, this is your Aunt Emily—the one I’ve told you about. And this is her daughter, Laura." "Yeah, nice to meet you, Aunt." I felt his presence beside me, prompting me to lift my gaze. And just like that, it felt as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been dumped over my head. Standing right in front of me—completely unfazed—was someone I never expected to see here. The only difference between us was that he had already masked his emotions with a fake smile. "Oh, what a fateful encounter. Nice to meet you, dear step-sister." I gritted my teeth. What the hell is happening? Why the hell was the insufferable Mr. Perfect—Cole Huntsman—standing right in front of me?!The campus was buzzing long before the first class even started.Whispers clung to the hallways like humidity—heavy, sticky, impossible to ignore. People were clustered in small groups, phones out, eyes wide, waiting for something. Or maybe someone.And then Michelle arrived.She stormed through the main gate with the kind of energy that made people instinctively step aside. Her hair was unbrushed, her eyes red, her uniform wrinkled as if she hadn’t slept at all. One hand clutched her bag; the other protectively hovered over her barely showing stomach.But what stood out wasn’t her appearance.It was the fury simmering under her skin.“WHERE IS SHE!?” she shouted, voice cracking through the courtyard.Heads turned. Conversations stopped. Even the security guard froze.Vienna and Jacob were at the benches nearby, both jolting to attention. Sue, who had been recording TikTok drafts with her friends, lowered her phone. Even professors who were on their way to class paused.Because everyo
Michelle had always believed she could control everything.Her image.Her relationships.Her future.But now—sitting alone in her tiny condominium room, lights dimmed, one hand resting on her swelling abdomen—control felt like a distant, mocking memory.The pregnancy test boxes lay scattered on the floor, remnants of the night she took six of them just to be sure.It wasn’t even denial.It was panic disguised as certainty.Edward promised her everything.“We’ll figure it out,” he told her.“Just keep quiet for now.”Except… he wasn’t answering her calls anymore.The messages she sent stayed marked as delivered.Never read.Never replied to.He used to call her sweetheart.Now it felt like he was pretending she didn’t exist.Michelle paced the living room, her bare feet brushing past the notes she scribbled everywhere—scribbles that grew more frantic by the day.“He’s just busy.”“He’s scared.”“He’ll come around.”“He has to come around.”Her breathing became uneven.Her reflection,
I woke up one morning to a sky that looked the same, but nothing felt right anymore. The colors seemed muted, like someone had sucked the vibrancy out of the world while I slept. My studio smelled faintly of turpentine and old paint, but today it smelled like betrayal. Every canvas, every brushstroke, every unfinished attempt at something beautiful—mocking me.I didn’t go to class. I didn’t answer my phone. I didn’t care if anyone noticed. Even Cole’s texts went unanswered, unread, left to pile up into the little guilt-weighted mountains he probably didn’t even realize were there.I stacked my canvases, one by one, on the floor. My hands shook, not from anger but from exhaustion—the kind that burrows into your bones and leaves nothing but raw, hollowed-out space where your joy used to live. I pulled a lighter from the kitchen drawer, a tiny flame licking the edges of the nearest canvas. The smell of burning oil paint hit me, choking, but I didn’t stop.They burned slowly at first, cur
Flashback — Five Years AgoThe house was silent, save for the faint tick of the grandfather clock in the corner. Emily stood by the kitchen counter, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug, though she didn’t drink. Across from her, Daniel lounged in the leather armchair, laughing at something on the evening news, completely unaware.It had taken months to get to this point. Months of careful planning, of observing, of waiting for the perfect moment to act. Emily’s face was calm, almost serene, but behind her eyes, a storm brewed. Every lie he had told, every betrayal, every vile act she had uncovered—the infidelity, the secret accounts, the dealings that chilled her to the bone—had led her here.She moved quietly, precise, almost invisible, carrying the small vial hidden in the folds of her coat. Daniel didn’t look up, too absorbed in his phone to notice the careful grace of her movements. Her hands trembled slightly—not from fear, but from the sheer weight of her resolve.“Dinner’s r
The morning air felt heavier than usual, like it was holding its breath just for us. I was standing in the foyer, coffee forgotten in my hand, when the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the street.“Mom?” I called, and before I could move, a black SUV screeched to a stop outside. People in suits were already crowding the sidewalk, cameras flashing like strobe lights in a nightmare I wasn’t ready to be part of.Emily stepped out of the car, face pale but defiant. I could see the strain in her posture, the way her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides. She tried to smile at the reporters, but it didn’t reach her eyes. I wanted to run to her, to tell her it would be okay, but my body froze as uniformed officers approached.“Mom…” I whispered, my voice cracking.“Laura,” she said softly, and there was a tightness in her throat that made my heart twist. “It’s nothing. Don’t…” She didn’t finish.The officers spoke quietly, formal and precise, and then she was being led away—hands
The morning air was crisp, carrying just a hint of fall, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the world didn’t feel like it was pressing down on me. I met Cole outside our usual coffee spot, and he was leaning against his car like he owned the world, hair slightly mussed from sleep, gym bag slung casually over one shoulder.“Finally,” he said, sliding into the bench across from me. “You actually made it on time today.”I rolled my eyes, though a grin tugged at my lips. “Don’t flatter yourself,” I muttered, pretending to sip my latte with nonchalance.“Uh-huh,” he said, smirking. “Says the girl who somehow always smiles like she’s won a million-dollar prize the second she sees me.”I snorted, shaking my head. “I win at pretending you’re not distracting.”We walked through the streets afterward, aimlessly but perfectly, letting the city guide us. The sunlight caught in his hair every time he laughed at some ridiculous joke I made, and I caught myself staring a little too lo







