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Lahat ng Kabanata ng I was more than pretty: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

124 Kabanata

The Day everything changed

EVELYN’S POVThe last thing I heard was laughter.Not the warm kind. Not the kind that wraps around your heart like sunlight.No. This was the laugh of someone who’d won.Julian’s voice, smooth as aged whiskey, saying, “She never even saw it coming.”And Serena’s—my best friend—giggling like we were still sharing secrets over wine, not plotting my downfall while I was busy dying.I lay in the hospital bed, machines beeping like a countdown no one could stop. My body was weak, hollowed out by stress, by grief, by years of pretending I didn’t hear the whispers.“She’s pretty, but you can tell it’s not real.”“All that work done on her face… must’ve cost a fortune.”“I wonder what she looked like before?”They said I got plastic surgery to be loved.But they never asked why.They never saw the girl who was called “ugly” in high school.The one whose yearbook photo was edited with devil horns and shared in a group chat titled “Before & Horrible.”The one who wore oversized sweaters in summ

I recognized her

The mirror didn’t lie.That was the first thing I realized.No filter. No soft lighting. No contouring to sharpen my jaw. Just me — before.My skin was clearer than I remembered, but not perfect. A faint scar from childhood acne lingered near my hairline. My nose was broader, my chin less defined. My eyes — the same deep brown — were wide with shock, no eyeliner to sharpen their gaze.I touched my cheek.It felt so warm and real.I flinched when my fingers pressed into the softness of my jaw — the very feature Julian had once whispered was “a little too heavy for your face.”I used to hate it.I used to spend hours angling my head in selfies, tilting it just right so the world wouldn’t see what I saw: not enough.But now?Now I barely recognized the girl staring back.Not because she looked different.But because she looked alive.No shadows under her eyes from sleepless nights. No tightness around her mouth from years of biting back words. She still believed in love. In friendship. In

My old face

I didn’t hate my face at first.That came later.It started with a nickname."Potato Nose."I was thirteen. Seventh grade. Standing at my locker, trying to zip up my backpack when Jason Miller leaned against the locker next to mine, sniffed loudly, and said, “Smells like mashed potatoes in here.”Everyone laughed.I didn’t get it at first.Then I saw the doodle taped to my locker the next day.A lopsided face. Huge eyes. A nose like a bloated tuber. Below it, written in red marker:Evelyn – Ugly Since Birth.I peeled it off. Crumpled it. Threw it away.And told myself it didn’t matter.But it did.Because it wasn’t just Jason.It was the girls in the bathroom who’d go silent when I walked in.The boys who mimicked my walk — shoulders hunched, head down — during gym class.The teacher who said, “Evelyn, you’d be so pretty if you just smiled more,” like joy was a filter I could turn on.By freshman year of high school, I stopped looking in mirrors.Not because I was dramatic.Because it

I thought I lost it all

For so many hours, Evelyn lived inside her memories.She relived the laughter, the lies, the slow unraveling of her life — piece by piece, like a film playing in reverse.She remembered the hospital room.The divorce papers.Julian signing them without looking up.Serena posting a photo the same week: “Engaged to my soulmate 💍”She remembered her body failing.The doctor saying, “Your heart didn’t break. It just gave up.”And then — the impossible.She woke up ten years earlier.Same face.Same room.Same life — before the surgery, before the betrayal, before she became a ghost in her own story.At first, she thought she was dreaming.Or broken.But the longer she stayed, the more the truth settled in her bones.This wasn’t a dream.It was a second chance.And then, on the fourth morning, she stepped out of her room.The house was quiet.Sunlight slipped through the tall windows, painting golden lines across the marble floor. The scent of coffee and vanilla candles floated in the air

Untold lies of the heart

She went.Not because she wanted to.But because she needed to see.She needed to see the true meaning behind the message Serena sent.The café was exactly the kind of place Serena loved.Tucked in the heart of the city’s arts district, all marble floors and soft jazz, floor-to-ceiling windows that turned every patron into a performance.Designer clothes.Perfect hair.Laughter that sounded rehearsed.And when Evelyn walked in, the air shifted.Not dramatically.Not with gasps.But with glances.Sideways.Quick.Curious.She wasn’t dressed poorly.Her coat was tailored.Her boots, Italian leather.But her face?It was real.No contouring.No subtle lifts.Just her — before the surgery.And in a room full of polished perfection, that was enough to make her stand out.Not for her style.But for her lack of it — by their standards.She scanned the room.And there, in the center table near the window, sat Serena.Radiant.Surrounded.Already holding court.She wore a cream silk dress, her

The moment of heaviness

She left the café without looking back.The city air was cool, carrying the scent of autumn leaves and distant coffee.Cars hummed.People rushed.But Evelyn walked slowly.Not because she was lost.But because she was here.Present.No longer running from her face.No longer chasing approval.No longer pretending.She passed a boutique on the corner — glass walls, mannequins dressed in structured coats and bold silhouettes.The kind of place where fashion wasn’t worn — it was declared.And then she remembered.She had to shop here.For orientation.Not because she needed clothes.But because she needed to show up — not as the girl who changed her face to be loved.But as the woman who was finally learning to wear her truth.She pushed the door open.A soft chime rang.And like always, the room noticed her.Not with stares.But with glances.The kind that flicker — quick, curious — when someone doesn’t fit the mold.A woman in a silk jumpsuit tilted her head.A girl whispered to her fr

The Silence Between Us

The world seemed to still around them. The gentle hum of jazz playing through the boutique speakers faded into the distance. The murmur of customers, the soft rustle of fabric, even the clicking of hangers — all of it disappeared.There was only him.Julian Vale.Her fiancé. The man who once held her hand as if it were made of glass, who had kissed her fingertips and called her his forever. He was the man who had promised her love that would outlive every season, who had once slipped a diamond ring onto her finger and whispered, “You’re the only one I’ll ever love.”That same man had later whispered those very words to another woman — Serena — while Evelyn lay in a hospital bed, her heart monitor slowing, her soul crumbling beneath the weight of a love that had turned poisonous.And now, ten years before she married him, he was standing in front of her again.Julian’s eyes caught hers across the boutique — dark, searching, uncertain. For a moment, he didn’t move. Neither did she. It w

Your lie

She believed it now.Not as a dream.Not as a trick of memory.But as truth.This wasn’t a second chance.It was a rewrite.Every step she took, every word she spoke, every silence she allowed herself — it all carried a new kind of gravity. She wasn’t just shaping her future; she was undoing the past.As she walked down the sun-washed street, the thought struck her suddenly — sharp and insistent. There was something she needed to ask Julian. Something she should have asked years ago.Before she could stop herself, she turned back, her heels tapping against the pavement as she hurried toward the boutique.He was still there.Julian Vale — exactly where she’d left him, standing by the same display of satin dresses, his hand resting casually in his pocket. It was strange how time could move for everyone else and still hold someone in place.For a heartbeat, Evelyn simply watched him, questions crowding her chest.What was he really doing here?How could a man once engaged to her stand the

Coming in terms

I couldn’t stand being with the man I was suppose to call fiancé,Let alone husband in the nearest future.I needed some fresh air, air that wasn’t feeling like Julian’s presence.I needed to head back home.“I need to head back home Julian, it is getting quite late and mother might be bothered”“ I will live before you. See you later.”Those where my last words to him before I made my way out of the boutiqueThis time, I wasn’t going to turn back for any forgotten question like before.I didn’t look back as I walked out of the boutique.Didn’t pause.Didn’t hesitate.The city air hit me like a slap—cold, sharp, real. My heels clicked against the pavement, each step louder than Julian’s lies. One foot. Then the other. Just keep moving.But then his voice cut through the noise:“Evelyn.”I froze. Not because I wanted to.Because my body still remembered how to obey him.I turned slowly.He stood framed in the boutique’s glass door, sunlight catching the arrogance in his smile. Like he’d

The heart has so many secrets

The kitchen was still when I walked in, wrapped in the kind of silence that feels almost heavy. No staff. No music. Only the hum of the refrigerator and the faint sounds of the city drifting through the window.I turned on the tap and filled a glass of water. It was cold against my lips — clean, grounding, real.Then a thought cut through the calm.What if someone else takes my place?Not me.Another woman.Someone who says yes to Julian.Someone who wears his ring and believes his words.Wouldn’t she live the same story I did? The slow unraveling, the nights spent wondering what changed, the quiet tears behind a closed door? The hospital bed, the signature on divorce papers, the moment she realizes the man who promised forever never meant it?I set the glass down. My hands were steady, but my heart trembled. My thoughts weren’t on my own pain anymore — they were on hers. Whoever she might be.That was when the truth surfaced.I didn’t want to marry Julian.And I didn’t want to be repl

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