JANUARY 2026
LILLIAN
"My apologies for the delay."
Isaac's voice filled the space behind me, smooth and instantly recognizable. He was already offering a practiced explanation to Kuya Liam—something about an important meeting running over.
Then, his footsteps drifted toward me.
When he stopped at my side, the silence between us felt heavy, expanding until the air itself became suffocating. I kept my eyes fixed ahead, my hands tightly clasped, until he finally broke the tension.
"Long time no see," he said softly.
I turned my head, meeting his gaze for a fraction of a second, forcing a tight, awkward smile to my lips. "Yeah. Long time."
"Shall we?" He offered his left arm, his posture impeccably formal.
When our cue arrived, we stepped forward onto the aisle together. The rhythm of our steps was terrifyingly familiar.
"Smile..."
I felt the warm brush of his breath against my ear as he leaned down, his voice a low whisper meant for me alone. A beat later, the photographer's shutter clicked, capturing our shared smile as we walked down the aisle.
Without realizing, I tightened my grip on his arm. He looked at me again.
In response, his right hand moved, gently covering my fingers where they clung to his arm. It was meant to be a gesture of comfort, but it didn't help. If anything, the warmth of his palm only made my heart beat erratically against my ribs.
When we reached the altar, my thoughts shattered. We parted ways. I moved to the left row, taking my place among the bridesmaids, while Isaac stepped to the right to join the groomsmen. Standing directly opposite each other, we waited for the bride and groom.
I took a deep, steadying breath.
Liam walked down the aisle first. Then when he reached the altar, the master of ceremonies announced the bride.
The heavy wooden doors swung open, and the crowd rose in a wave of rustling fabric, pulling out their phones. The room fell perfectly still, save for the swelling, elegant notes of Canon in D played by a live piano and violin.
Cassie looked breathtaking. The gown I had spent almost a month designing for her fell perfectly, the fabric moving like liquid light as she walked. The moment Liam caught sight of her, tears welled in his eyes. Beneath her veil, Cassie was already crying, too.
Watching them, a sudden, sharp ache bloomed in the center of my chest.
So this is what a real wedding looks like.
Two people deeply, irrevocably in love. A bride walked down the aisle toward the man she had chosen to build a life with, and a groom who looked like his entire world was standing in front of him.
My wedding with Isaac had been nothing like this. It had been an elaborate, beautiful lie—a meticulously staged facade of a devoted couple.
As Cassie neared the altar, my eyes inadvertently drifted back to Isaac. He was looking at me, his expression tight and unreadable. Sensing my gaze, he abruptly looked away, clearing his throat and offering a tight nod to Cassie as she finally reached Liam.
From the groomsmen's side, Tito Jojo stepped forward. As Cassie's guardian, he formally handed her over to Liam, followed by a warm greeting from Tito Lucian. I stepped forward to fix the train of Cassie's veil, ensuring it lay perfectly on the floor for the photographers.
The ceremony concluded beautifully, and we transitioned to the reception venue—a private, luxury resort in Batangas overlooking the open sea. I arrived with the rest of the bridal party, the salty ocean breeze filtering through the open-air pavilion.
By the time I entered the main hall, most of the guests were already settled. I was scanning the room for my table assignment when my gaze accidentally crossed paths with Jeremy. He was seated at one of the forward tables, a drink in hand. The moment our eyes met, his expression sharpened, his tracking gaze followed me as the bridal party filed in.
Uneasy, I quickly looked away, focusing back on the seating chart just as another bridesmaid shifted backward, her hand catching the rim of her glass.
A splash of wine drenched the front of my dress.
"Oh my gosh, Lillian! I am so, so sorry!" she gasped, her hands flew to her mouth.
"It's okay, really," I said quickly, trying to calm her down.
Luckily, it was white wine, so it didn't leave a glaring stain, but the light pink silk of my dress was completely soaked, clinging to my skin and rendering the fabric subtly translucent.
Excusing myself, I headed toward the quiet hallway leading to the restrooms to dry it off. I could feel eyes on my back as I left the hall—and I wasn't surprised when a figure stepped into my path before I could even reach the restroom door.
Jeremy must have followed me the second the drink spilled.
"What happened?" he asked, his brow furrowed as he pulled a clean handkerchief from his coat's pocket and offered it to me.
I hesitated for a second, but just out of respect I took it.
"Thank you. Just a minor spill," I replied, and took the cloth.
His expression remained tight with doubt. As I bent slightly to wring out the hem of the heavy fabric so I wouldn't trip, Jeremy reached out, his hand moved toward my waist to help.
"Don't," I said, my voice sharp as I stepped back before his fingers could touch the silk. "I can handle myself."
"Lillian, let me just—"
"Is everything okay here?"
The cool, commanding baritone cut through the space. Isaac walked into the hallway, his posture rigid.
Jeremy's expression instantly darkened. "Yeah, we're fine," he answered coldly, stepped slightly in front of me.
Isaac ignored him entirely, his eyes locked onto mine before dropping to the damp, sheer fabric of my dress.
His jaw tightened. "I'm asking her."
The air filled with immediate tension. Desperate to avoid a scene at Liam and Cassie's wedding, I stepped out from behind Jeremy. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just an accident with a drink."
Without a word, Isaac unbuttoned his suit coat, slipped it off his shoulders, and draped it gently over mine. The fabric was warm, smelling faintly of his familiar cologne, completely shielding my ruined dress from view.
"Liam and Cassie are looking for you," Isaac said, his voice softened slightly as he addressed me.
"Thank you..." I murmured, holding the lapels of his coat tightly around myself. "I'll go ahead."
"After you," he replied.
As I turned to walk away, I caught the intense, warning look Isaac shot Jeremy—a silent, territorial glare that made my pulse stutter before he turned to follow me back into the ballroom.
By the time I claimed my seat, the after-party was in full swing. There were games, laughter, and heartfelt speeches dedicated to the newlyweds. But as the hours wore on and the formal program ended, the high-energy celebration began to take its toll. The younger crowd swarmed the dance floor, and the older guests began to trickle out.
All my life, I had been forced to attend these kinds of high-society gatherings, yet I still found them entirely draining.
Holding a fresh glass of champagne, I escaped to the quiet terrace.
The balcony overlooked the sea, where the sky was bruised into deep purples and golds as the sun dipped below the horizon. I leaned against the railing, still enveloped in Isaac's coat, finally breathing in the silence.
"Do you mind if I join?"
I turned around. Isaac was standing a few feet away, holding a glass of his own.
"It's fine."
For a moment, silence engulfed us, only hearing the sound of the waves and cool breeze.
"This is better," he muttered, turning his eyes to the sunset. "The quiet." Then looked at me.
"I'd agree with that," I replied, a small, genuine smile touching my lips.
Realizing I was still wearing his coat, I began to slip it off to return it. As soon as the fabric left my shoulders, the cold ocean breeze hit my bare skin, making me shiver. I held it out to him anyway.
Isaac didn't take it. "Keep it on. The air is cold out here."
I hesitated, then nodded. "Okay...Thanks." I pulled it back over my shoulders,and leaned my forearms against the railing.
The sound of crashing waves filled the space between us, but my mind was entirely consumed by how surreal it felt to be standing beside him like this again.
Isaac stepped closer, the condensation on his glass caught the dying amber light.
"I'm sorry."
My fingers tightened against the concrete railing. I looked over at him.
"For what?"
"For dragging you into the contract." He didn't meet my eyes. He just watched the bubbles rise to the surface of his champagne.
A sudden, dry heat flared in my throat. I looked back out at the horizon. "You don't have to apologize," I whispered. "We both made our choices, Isaac. We both had our reasons."
He nodded slowly, his jaw locked as he took a sharp, quiet drink.
Silence pooled around us again. He traced the rim of his glass with his thumb, lost in thought.
Grasping for a distraction, I shifted my weight, my left hand tightening against the cool concrete of the balcony railing. It was only then, as the metal pressed into my skin, that a sudden, jarring realization hit me.
My eyes dropped to my left hand.
There, glittering faintly in the dim twilight, were the engagement ring and the wedding band Isaac had given me. My breath hitched. Because my ring finger had grown so entirely accustomed to their weight over the last three years, I hadn't even realized I was still wearing them even when I dressed for the wedding today.
A sudden wave of heat rushed to my face. I couldn't keep them anymore.
With my cold fingers, I anchored my hand and twisted the bands, sliding them slowly over my knuckle. Without the heavy platinum and diamonds, my finger suddenly felt bare.
I held them out in my open palm between us.
"You should have these back."
Isaac didn't move. He didn't even look down at my hand.
His profile remained perfectly rigid against the fading light, but the muscle in his jaw twitched violently.
"Keep them," he said, his voice entirely hollow.
"Isaac, they're—"
"I don't take back things I've already given, Lillian." He turned to face me fully, his eyes dark, unreadable, and blazing all at once. His knuckles were white around his glass. He let out a sharp, jagged breath. "Throw them into the sea. Melt them down for your next fashion collection. Do whatever you want with them. They're yours."
I looked down at the rings resting against my skin.
"Alright," I whispered, slowly closing my fist around them.
The heavy silence returned, suffocating.
"So... it's Ireland," he said suddenly.
The mention of the country made me blink.
"You chose Ireland," he repeated.
"Yeah," I replied, forcing a small, fragile smile. "Ireland."
His jaw tightened, and his Adam's apple rose and fell with a hard gulp. The hesitation in his eyes made it seem as though he was about to say something significant.
"Lillian..." He stopped. The sentence hung in the air, completely unfinished. He looked at me, a profound, heavy sadness settling over his features. "I...I guess this is goodbye, then."
I took a sip from my drink.
"I guess so."
A small, exhausted smile touched his lips.
"Then let's make tonight worth remembering."
His words felt incredibly fragile, yet laced with a strange kind of hope. For a reckless, fleeting second, my resolve wavered. I looked at him, letting my guard down entirely, and managed a bittersweet smile.
"Alright. Just for tonight."
The air seemed to shift after that, the heavy silence fractured.
Isaac stared down at his glass, a sudden, quiet huff escaped him. "Do you remember the second week in the apartment? When I tried to make pancakes?"
A surprise laugh caught in my throat, the sound light against the crashing waves. "You didn't make pancakes, Isaac. You created a toxic smoke cloud."
"The recipe said medium-high heat," he defended, though his shoulders relaxed, a genuine warmth reaching his eyes for the first time all day.
"I didn't realize your stove's idea of medium-high was volcanic. You set off the alarm at six in the morning! I came out of the bedroom thinking the building was collapsing, and you were standing there in a pristine white dress shirt, aggressively waving a dish towel at the ceiling."
"I managed to save two of them," he pointed out, his voice dropping to a softer, amused cadence.
"They were charred black, rock-solid discs. I used one as a coaster for a month."
"A highly functional, durable coaster," he murmured, his gaze drifting from the sea back to my face, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
Hearing him laugh—really laugh, without the rigid weight of the last three years pressing down on us—felt like stepping into a room I thought had been locked forever.
Once the ice broke, the memories kept coming, tumbling out between us like a dam had burst. We talked, not about what went wrong or what could've been, but about the little things we'd buried away. The coffee I accidentally spilled down the front of his custom suit exactly ten minutes before a high-stakes board meeting. The quiet, sleepless nights when we'd both end up sitting on opposite sides of the living room balcony, wrapped in blankets, pretending we were just watching the city lights rather than waiting for the other to speak.
I had forgotten how easy it could feel, to laugh with him, to let the sound of his voice fill the spaces inside me.
And as the sky deepened into twilight, I found myself smiling more than I had in months. Maybe even years.
I never knew we had so many memories that could make me feel this way again: warm, light... and painfully human. Memories that, for the first time, I didn't want to erase. Because somehow, against all reason, I realized there were still moments of us worth cherishing.
Even if they were about to end tonight.