Chapter 6
1645 Words
It was Monday, and for the first time in years, I didn’t go to school. Today was supposed to be the day they discussed the wedding plans—my wedding with Veronica Yuw. The thought alone made my chest feel heavy. Veronica hadn’t spoken to me for two days. No calls. No messages. Not even a glance when we crossed paths. Maybe she was angry. Or maybe she simply didn’t care. I didn’t know which one hurt more. What confused me the most was why I felt this way at all. I wasn’t the one who wanted this marriage. I wasn’t the one who agreed to it.
So why did it sting?
I sat quietly in the hotel lounge, watching her from afar. She was standing beside our event planner, laughing—really laughing. The kind that reached her eyes. The planner leaned closer, lightly hitting Veronica’s arm in a playful way, as if they shared something private. It irritated me.
No, it bothered me more than that. My fingers curled into fists as I looked away, forcing myself to breathe. I had no right to feel this. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t even be here. I didn’t know anyone in this place, and yet she didn’t bother to check on me even once. Not a word. Not a look. I might as well have been invisible.
At this point, I could start talking to the chairs.
“Ms. Ymor?” I looked up. The event planner was smiling politely at me now, her hand still resting comfortably on Veronica’s arm. For a brief second, a ridiculous thought crossed my mind. They should just get married instead.
“Are you okay?” Veronica asked. “She’s been calling you for a while.”
“Yes,” I replied flatly as I stood up. “I’m leaving. You can go back to flirting.” The words came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t take them back. I turned around and walked straight out of the hotel.
“Zyhra!” I heard her call my name, but I refused to stop. I walked faster, my heart pounding for reasons I didn’t understand. I just wanted to get away—from the place, from the people, from her.
I didn’t know Veronica was athletic, but she caught up to me easily. Her hand wrapped around my arm, firm but not rough. “Are you jealous?” she asked calmly.
I laughed dryly. “Me? Jealous? Why would I be?”
“You sound jealous.”
“I’m not,” I snapped. “I just gave you time to enjoy flirting with her. Maybe that way you won’t force me to marry you.”
She laughed softly, and somehow, that made everything worse.
“Do you really think I’m forcing you?” she said. “You’re free to choose, Zyhra. You could’ve left anytime. Two days have already passed.” Her words hit harder than I expected.
She was right.
I could have left.
Especially during those two days when she didn’t talk to me at all. And yet, I stayed. I didn’t understand why. The thought of her alone in that massive penthouse—surrounded by glass walls and silence—made something twist painfully in my chest.
But I still wanted to leave.
“Fine,” I muttered. “Then take me home.”
She didn’t hesitate. “Deal.”
The drive back to my village was quiet. The city lights blurred past the window as my thoughts spiraled. Part of me felt relieved, convinced this meant the wedding wouldn’t happen anymore. But another part of me felt unbearably sad—and I couldn’t explain why.
When the car stopped, I stared at my house. From inside the car, I could see my bedroom window. God, I missed my room.
“We’re here,” she said softly. I heard it then—the sadness she tried to hide beneath her calm voice.
“Yeah. Thank you,” I replied, and I meant it.
She hesitated. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“Sure.”
“May I have… a kiss?” I froze. I wanted to say no. I should have said no. But my heart betrayed me. I wanted it too. I wanted to feel her lips on mine—just once.
“Never mind,” she said quickly. “Go inside.” I don’t know who moved first.
All I knew was that inside her car, her lips were suddenly against mine. Everything else disappeared. Her lips touched mine,
They were warm—unhurried, almost careful, as if she were giving me time to pull away. I didn’t. Instead, I found myself leaning in, my breath uneven, my thoughts slipping out of reach. She kissed me softly at first, like a question she wasn’t sure I wanted to answer.
Then her lips moved again, slower, deeper—no rush, no demand—just a quiet insistence that made my chest tighten. I could feel her hesitation melt into certainty, and when her hand lifted slightly, resting at my side, my body responded before my mind could catch up.
I tasted nothing sweet or sharp—only her. Warm, familiar in a way that didn’t make sense, like something I’d been missing without realizing it. The kiss wasn’t desperate or hurried; it lingered, steady and grounding, as if she was trying to remember me. When I finally pulled back to breathe, my heart was racing.
I didn’t want it to end.
But she did.
She leaned away first, her forehead briefly resting against mine,
I gasped for air as her hands moved hesitantly, searching without urgency. There was desire in her eyes—raw and honest—but beneath it, I saw something else.
—Sadness.
“Thank you, Zyhra,” she whispered. “Until next time.”
“Yeah…” I murmured. I stepped out of the car, dazed. I didn’t even realize she had already driven away.
Her kiss lingered on my lips. That sweetness—strawberry mixed with menthol—followed me into the house. Tess asked why I was home early. I told her I’d explain tomorrow. Dad only looked at me. Veronica must’ve already spoken to him.
Veronica Yuw. What did you do to me?
The next day, I went back to school, and the rumors were already everywhere. Apparently, I was marrying one of the richest women in the Philippines. The whispers were endless. The questions were exhausting.
I wondered how she was.
Maybe she was kissing someone else already.
The thought irritated me more than it should have.
So others would get to taste her kiss too?
“Hey,” Abcde said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You’ve been quiet for a while. Are you okay?” We were sitting by the soccer field, the late afternoon air finally cooling. I watched the grass sway under the soft wind, my mind still tangled somewhere else.
“By the way,” I said, forcing my voice steady, “don’t continue the plan this Saturday. The wedding’s not happening.”
He turned to me, surprised. “Really? What happened?”
“You’re such a gossip,” I muttered.
He laughed lightly, then studied me more carefully. “You don’t look relieved.”
“I don’t know what I feel,” I admitted. There was a brief silence between us—comfortable, familiar. He shifted closer, not touching, just near enough that I could feel his presence.
“Zyhra,” he said softly, “if this is about you trying to figure things out… you don’t have to explain.” I looked at him then—really looked at him. Someone safe. Someone who made sense. Someone I should be able to feel something for.
“Abcde,” I said quietly, “I don’t want to confuse you.”
He smiled faintly. “Too late for that.” Before I could overthink it, before my courage disappeared, he leaned in and we kissed.
It was gentle. Brief. Careful.
His lips were warm, familiar, and soft—but my heart stayed still. There was no rush, no spark, no pull that made me want to stay. The kiss felt like punctuation at the end of a sentence I had already finished writing.
I pulled away first. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He searched my face for a moment, then nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I figured.”
I stood up, feeling strangely lighter—and that’s when I saw her.
Veronica.
She stood a few steps away, having witnessed everything. Her expression was unreadable, calm but distant.
Without saying a word to Abcde, I walked toward her.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I came to tell you something,” she replied. “The wedding—it won’t happen.” My heart skipped.
“So that’s it?” She nodded.
“I wanted you to hear it from me.”
I swallowed. “You could’ve sent a message.”
“I wanted to see you,” she said simply.
There it was again—that quiet pull I couldn’t explain.
“If you ever change your mind,” she added, her voice soft but steady, “you know where to find me.”
Veronica had seen the kiss.
The realization hit me all at once, sharp and cold. I didn’t know what she thought of it—if it hurt her, if it disappointed her, or if she simply accepted it the way she accepted everything else about me. The uncertainty settled heavily in my chest, louder than guilt.
She turned and walked away.
I stood there, stunned.
She didn’t force me.
She never did.
And somehow, that scared me more than anything else.
- Writer
