4. WHFL

That night, the sky hung with gray clouds, and the streets were deserted, lit only by the dim city lights. Aurora returned home late, her steps weary and her body sluggish. The work that had begun lightly suddenly piled up mercilessly. Several important documents were unceremoniously thrown onto her desk early in the morning. Deadlines were accelerated for no apparent reason, and all eyes seemed to glare at her sarcastically.

Not only had Rafael treated her coldly since the last incident, but all of her coworkers had begun to express the same disdain. Sneering looks, whispers in the corners of the room, even contradictory instructions were deliberately given just to set her up.

Her once neutral boss had now started reprimanding her for little things like the coffee not being hot enough, the report copy being a minute late, or her sitting posture being unprofessional. Aurora felt as if she was being slowly exiled, pushed to the edge of a precipice that she could only withstand with the remnants of her pride and will to survive.

Arriving at Rafael's house, which was now also her residence, Aurora opened the door carefully. There was no sound. The house was quiet, cold, almost unfriendly. She placed her bag on the dining table and sat for a moment without turning on the light, letting the darkness envelop her body.

Her mind was in turmoil. Everything felt cramped. At work, she was a burden. At home, she was just an unwanted shadow of the past. Aurora knew that her position was like a thorn in everyone's side. No one truly wanted her to exist. She was merely a tool left behind by her father, dragged into a game she never chose. But even more painfully, not a single hand was extended to help.

Her tears flowed slowly, not from weakness, but from being tired of having to remain strong alone.

Suddenly, the door to the study opened loudly. Rafael emerged with firm steps, his face dark. His gaze was fixed on Aurora.

"Great," Rafael quipped coldly, "You come home late, the house is a mess, and I haven't eaten dinner yet. Do you consider this house your own now, Aurora? To the point where you feel free to neglect your duties?"

His words stabbed like a knife. Aurora, who had been enduring hard days for the past two weeks, her body torn apart by work and social pressure, could only look down.

She was tongue-tied. She wanted to defend herself but knew there was no point. Slowly, with a tired tone, Aurora rose from the chair.

"I'll prepare dinner," she muttered. But his steps were immediately halted.

"Where's your uniform, Aurora?" Rafael asked harshly. "Have you forgotten the rules of this house?" Aurora stared at him, her body stiffening.

Her face hardened to contain the anger boiling inside her chest. Her breath was held.

"Why?" she asked sharply, her voice breaking at the end of the sentence. "Why do I have to wear that disgusting uniform all the time? Are you content to see me humiliated like this?"

Rafael did not budge. "Because that's your place in this house. A servant. Don't get too comfortable with pity," he retorted, cold and cruel. The words were like a hard whip that hit Aurora's pride.

She looked at Rafael, full of hurt; her eyes began to tear up, but there was nothing else she could hold back.

Her buried anger finally overflowed. "No, I'm not the one who's comfortable! It's you who has no feelings!"

she shouted in a trembling voice. "You treat me like property, not a human being. I'm tired, Rafael. I didn't come here to be a slave! I came here because I had no choice!"

Rafael, inflamed with emotion, quickened his pace and stood right in front of Aurora. "If you don't like being treated like this," he snapped, voice low but shaking the room, "then go find your father!"

Aurora was startled. Her body stiffened. She looked at Rafael, who was staring at her with eyes full of anger that had been pent up for too long.

"All of this happened because of Edgar Marvelo!" Rafael clenched his jaw tightly. "Because of that cowardly man! So why are you blaming me?!"

Aurora fell silent. Her eyes widened, her chest rising and falling rapidly with feelings that struggled between hurt and anger.

"Hate your father!" shouted Rafael again, his voice now cracking. "Bring him before me if you want to be free of all this! Don't beg for understanding from someone you never even gave an answer to!"

The two stared at each other with eyes full of embers. However, behind Rafael's anger lay a wound that began to reveal itself-a sense of betrayal, abandonment, and being stabbed by the person he trusted the most.

Aurora's body trembled. "You think I don't want to find him?" Aurora's reply quivered with deep emotion. "You think I'm not already devastated enough by his actions? You're not the only one who feels betrayed, Rafael."

But Rafael no longer answered. He simply stared at Aurora for a moment, his chest heaving with the next explosion now trapped in his throat. His gaze began to dull, yet still held an ember that had not been extinguished.

Aurora turned her face away, her tears falling once more, but this time silently. She hurried to her room, closing the door softly but firmly.

Rafael remained standing in place, clenching his hands tightly at his sides, trying to contain the storm raging within his chest. Yet, his body could no longer bear the weight.

The world suddenly spun rapidly. His vision blurred, the walls of the house seemed to tremble, and the sound of his heartbeat thudded in his ears like war drums. Then everything went dark. Rafael's body collapsed, hitting the floor hard.

His hand, which accidentally brushed against the small table, nudged the vase of flowers atop it until it shattered against the floor, breaking the silence with a shocking loud sound.

Aurora, who was sitting in the corner of her room with puffy eyes and a tight chest, immediately jumped up in shock. Without thinking, she opened the door and ran outside.

"Rafael?!"

Aurora's gaze fell on Rafael's large body lying motionless on the floor, surrounded by broken glass and scattered flowers. Her body trembled as she approached, kneeling in panic and trying to wake Rafael. But there was no response. Aurora's heart immediately pounded hard. Her hand checked for a pulse in Rafael's neck. There was none. Not even his breathing could be felt.

"A-hell! Rafael!"

Trembling, she grabbed her cell phone and dialed the emergency number while starting CPR, just as she had learned years ago in college. Her hands pushed on Rafael's chest with great intensity, tears filling her eyes.

"Please, don't die, Rafael. Hang on!" she said repeatedly while adjusting the pressure and count of artificial breaths.

"The ambulance is on its way," said the voice on the other end of the line. But time seemed to move too slowly. Every second felt like a knife slicing through Aurora's hopes. Her tears flowed, but her hands remained strong, trying to revive the man she hated, yet now... there was the fear of losing him.

A few minutes later, ambulance sirens could be heard in the distance. Medics rushed in, immediately taking over rescue measures and checking Rafael's condition with medical instruments. Aurora held her breath when one of the paramedics signaled that a heartbeat had been detected, albeit a very weak one.

They quickly carried Rafael into the ambulance, while Aurora climbed in, her hands still shaking and her face wet with tears. All the way to the hospital, Aurora clasped Rafael's cold hand, hoping that his warm body would soon return.

*_*