All Chapters of Scent of a Forbidden Vow: Chapter 1 - Chapter 5

The night I got engaged, I realized something terrifying—you can agree to a future your heart has already rejected.Hindi ako umiiyak.Hindi rin ako galit.But there was this strange, suffocating stillness inside me—like I was watching my own life unfold from a distance, unable to stop it.“Smile, Elara.” My mother's voice came out soft, almost gentle—but I knew better. It wasn't a request. It never was.I looked at my reflection one last time.Perfect hair.Perfect dress.Perfect daughter.A girl carefully prepared for a life she didn't choose.“Handa ka na?” my father asked from behind me.Am I?The answer sat at the tip of my tongue, heavy and dangerous.No.But I swallowed it.“I'm ready,” I said instead.Because that's what I've always been taught to say.The moment I stepped into the hall, the scent hit me first.Sampaguita. White Roses. A hint of something foreign and expensive.It was beautiful.It was suffocating.And somehow, it felt like a warning.The guests were already

May mga bagay na hindi mo sinasabi—not because they aren’t real, and definitely not because they don’t matter, but because the moment you give them a voice, you lose the ability to control what comes after. Words have a way of making things permanent, of turning something you can still deny into something you’re forced to face.And right now, standing just a few steps away from Adrian Del Rosario, I could feel every unsaid word pressing in on us, filling the space between us with a tension that was too heavy to ignore but too dangerous to acknowledge.“You shouldn’t have said that.”His voice was low, controlled in a way that almost sounded effortless, but there was something underneath it—something restrained, something dangerously close to slipping through the cracks of his composure. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t even a disappointment. It was something far more complicated than that.I folded my arms slowly, more as a way to ground myself than to put up any kind of defense. I needed s

There’s a certain kind of guilt that doesn’t come from doing something wrong—but from knowing you’re about to.It lingers in the quiet moments, in the spaces between conversations, in the way your chest tightens even when everything around you looks perfectly fine.And the worst part? You still don’t stop.“Elara?”Lucas’ voice pulled me back before I could drift too far into my thoughts again.We were still in the garden, though most of the guests had already gone back inside. The lights cast a soft glow around us, making everything feel calmer than it actually was.“Hmm?” I responded, turning to him.He was looking at me—really looking this time. Not casually, not politely. There was something more intentional in the way his gaze lingered.“You’ve been quiet again,” he said gently.I let out a small breath. “I’m sorry.”“Hey,” he said quickly, stepping a little closer. “You don’t have to apologize for that.”His tone was soft—reassuring in a way that made something in my chest ache.