Lahat ng Kabanata ng Your Lips to Mine #6: Skybound Hearts: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

Trust had always been a strange thing to me. I didn’t know how to define it. I didn’t know how to build it or even if I could, because it had never been something that came easily. Growing up, I learned to guard my heart. I didn’t want to let anyone in too close—didn’t want anyone to see the cracks, the parts of me that were always left unhealed. I guess it made sense that I had built my life this way, always wary, always holding something back. I’d seen too many people disappoint me, and I couldn’t afford to be vulnerable again. But with Adrian, everything felt different. It wasn’t like I’d set out to trust him—at least, not in the way I had with others in the past. It was more like he had chipped away at all those walls I’d built around myself, slowly, patiently. I had never expected to let someone in the way I had let him. And what surprised me even more was that it didn’t feel like a loss of control. For the first time, it felt like I was sharing a part of myself with someone who

The sound of waves crashing against the shore greeted me as I stepped out of the car and took my first look at the secluded beach resort Adrian had brought me to. It was breathtaking, the kind of place that seemed pulled straight from a postcard. A long stretch of golden sand hugged the turquoise water, and palm trees swayed gently in the breeze. The sun was low on the horizon, casting warm orange and pink hues over the sea. For a moment, I forgot to breathe. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Adrian’s voice pulled me from my trance. He stood beside me, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, but there was a softness in his eyes as he looked at me, not the view. “It’s perfect,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. He smiled, the kind of smile that seemed to reach deep into his soul. “Come on. Let me show you where we’re staying.” The cottage was perched on a small hill overlooking the beach, secluded enough to feel like the rest of the world didn’t exist. Inside, it was cozy and

I woke up to the harsh, cold buzz of my phone in the dark. It was far too early for anyone to be awake, but when I saw the notification, my stomach plummeted. "Adrian Blackwell and Isla Martinez Announce Hiatus Amidst Media Frenzy" The words blurred in front of my eyes, and for a moment, I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. There it was, in black and white, the news I had been dreading. Adrian had made a public statement. He said that we were taking a “hiatus,” giving our relationship the space it needed due to the relentless pressure from the media. I stared at the words. They didn’t make sense. He had done this—he had chosen to publicly put this wedge between us. The “mutual decision” sounded like a shield, something to protect both of us from the fallout. But I could see it for what it was: Adrian stepping back, thinking this was what was best, trying to protect me from the mess. But in reality, it felt like a betrayal. I kept staring at the phone, unable to stop reading the art

The city felt colder that evening, even with my coat wrapped tightly around me. My breath came out in little puffs as I walked down the familiar streets. I didn’t know why I was doing this—why I had answered Adrian’s message after all this time. Maybe I wanted closure. Maybe I wanted to see him one last time before I could finally let go. Or maybe I was still hopelessly in love with him, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself otherwise. I clutched my bag a little tighter as I stepped into the building and rode the elevator up to the rooftop. The hum of the elevator seemed louder than usual, or maybe it was just the pounding of my heart echoing in my ears. When the doors opened, I was greeted by the crisp night air and a view that always took my breath away—the city skyline stretching endlessly, shimmering like a sea of stars. And there he was. Adrian Blackwell. Standing near the edge, his tall frame silhouetted against the lights. His hands were in his pockets, and he turned

The world didn’t change overnight. The paparazzi didn’t suddenly pack up their cameras, and the tabloids didn’t stop spinning their stories. But something inside me shifted—a quiet, almost imperceptible change that grew with time. It started the morning Adrian and I sat at his dining table, his hand over mine, as we mapped out a plan to take control of our lives. “We can’t keep letting them dictate how we live,” he had said, his voice steady but filled with determination. “I’m done giving them that power.” For the first time in months, I felt like we were on the same page. I wasn’t just Adrian Blackwell’s girlfriend, and he wasn’t just the tech mogul everyone wanted a piece of. We were two people, trying to make a relationship work in a world that seemed determined to tear it apart. The first step was setting boundaries. Adrian hired a new PR team, one that specialized in handling high-profile relationships with care and discretion. They worked behind the scenes, subtly redire