All Chapters of WHEN DESIRE BECOMES A SIN : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Caleb’s POV Alas-siyete na ng gabi nang matapos ang meeting ko with the investors. Pagod ako, at ang tanging gusto ko lang ay makauwi… makausap si Lyra… at sa wakas, ipagtapat sa mga magulang namin ang totoo. Buong linggo ko 'yon pinag-isipan. Buong linggo ko pinaghandaan. Buong linggo ko pinakinggan ang takot ko at sa wakas, handa na ako. Kaya pag-uwi ko, derecho agad ako sa bahay. 8:30 PM nang makarating ako, medyo madilim na ang buong paligid. Nakabukas lang ang ilang ilaw sa sala, 'yung uri ng ambience na parang may kulang… parang may mali. Pagpasok ko pa lang sa pinto, tinawag ko agad si Manang Rosa. “Manang, si Dad? tanong ko habang niluluwagan ko ang necktie ko. Lumapit siya mula sa dining area, “Umalis sila, iho. May gala event daw na pupuntahan. pero kanina pa iyon baka mamaya lang nandito na sila.” Tumango ako. “Ganoon po ba? Sige po. Mamaya ko na sila kakausapin. Aakyat na muna ako—” Hindi pa man ako nakakahakbang, nagsalita ulit si Manang. “Ah, siya ng

Caleb’s POV A few moments later, I was already in the middle of the road, driving my newest car the one I hadn’t used alone during nighttime until now. Tahimik sa loob; ang tanging tunog lang ay ang makina at ang dumudulas na gulong sa kalsada. Hawak ko ang manibela nang mahigpit, pilit na humihinga nang malalim, pero hindi nakatulong. “Lyra, baby… nasaan ka?” bulong ko sa sarili ko, halos sa hangin na lang napupunta. Umiikot sa isip ko ang bawat detalye kaninang umaga, may dalang backpack, sumakay sa tricycle. Isa-isa kong pinapicture sa isip ang eksena, ngunit sa bawat pag-iisip, mas lumalala ang kaba. Baka may nangyari sa kanya habang naglalakad. Baka sumakit ulit ang puson niya. Baka… dugoin siya. Ang puso ko, parang tumitigil sa bawat segundo. Labindalawang oras na ang lumipas simula ng umalis siya. Labindalawang oras ng kawalan na halos pumatay sa katahimikan ng isip ko. “Lyra…” bulong ko, halos sumisigaw. “Baby… I will find you. I swear… I won’t let anything happen

Caleb’s POV Nine months turned into a year. One. Two. Three years passed. And I never found Lyra and my son. The world moved forward, but my life stayed frozen in the exact moment she disappeared. Every street I drove through, every corner I searched, every terminal I combed became nothing more than memories etched with frustration and hopelessness. Eventually, I stopped. Stopped chasing. Stopped calling. Stopped hiring investigators because even they, with all their resources, had nothing to show for years of searching. The longing I once carried that desperate, burning need to see her again, to hold her, to promise her everything would be okay Twisted into something darker. It wasn’t grief anymore. It was anger. Anger at the world. Anger at fate. Anger at myself. Anger for Lyra. I wanted to find her. I wanted to protect her. Protect our son. But no matter how far I drove, how many nights I didn’t sleep, how many cities I searched… the

Caleb’s POV The world didn’t just stop when I saw him It collapsed. My son. Lying there. Small. Still. Hooked up to machines that were breathing for him. My throat burned. My chest tightened so violently it felt like something inside me was tearing open. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Not him. Not my blood. I forced myself to take another step, but my knees almost buckled. Every instinct in me rebelled at the sight. My son shouldn’t look like this. He shouldn’t look… weak. He should be running. Laughing. Crying. Not fighting for his life on a cold hospital bed. A strangled sound escaped my throat before I could stop it. No. No, this wasn’t happening. I gripped the rail of the bed so hard my knuckles turned white As if holding onto metal could hold together what was left of my sanity. He had my curls. My jawline. My hands. And I had never held them. Not once. The pain punched through me so hard I had to look away. M

Caleb’s POV The private plane shuddered as it pushed against the wind, the world below shrinking into a blur of lights and darkness. Inside, everything felt too loud the blades, the machines, my own heartbeat. My son’s tiny chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths. Each one felt stolen. Each one felt like it could be the last. Lyra sat on the opposite side of the stretcher, her hands trembling as she gently adjusted the thin blanket over him. Tears slid down her cheeks silently she didn’t wipe them, didn’t speak, didn’t even breathe properly. She was shaking. But I couldn’t find space inside myself to feel anything for her. Not now. Not when all my fear was focused on the small, fragile life between us. “His saturation is dropping,” the flight medic announced suddenly. My head snapped toward the monitor. Numbers were falling too fast. “What the hell does that mean?” I demanded. “It means his oxygen level is decreasing he’s struggling to maintain—” “F