Goodbye tiara

chapter 1

The fluorescent lights of the hospital cafeteria hummed, a monotonous soundtrack to Tiara's quiet rebellion. She sat alone, a lukewarm cup of coffee untouched before her, a worn notebook open in its place. Inside, a list was taking shape, scrawled in her shaky handwriting.

- Learn to surf.

- See the fireflies in Donsol.

- Eat kinalas until I burst.

- Tell Adrian it's over.

- Forgive them.

- Dance in the rain.

It was a haphazard collection of dreams, big and small, a desperate attempt to cram a lifetime of missed experiences into a handful of weeks. Some were simple pleasures, like savoring the spicy Bicolano noodle soup she'd always denied herself, too afraid of gaining weight to meet her fiancé's exacting standards. Others were bolder, terrifying even, like ending her engagement to Adrian, a decision that would undoubtedly unleash her parents' wrath.

The fireflies in Donsol. She'd always wanted to see them, those tiny beacons of light dancing in the night, a spectacle she'd only read about in books. Growing up in Camarines Sur, she'd been so close, yet so far, her life dictated by social obligations and her family's expectations.

A bitter smile touched her lips. It was ironic, wasn't it? It took a death sentence to finally grant her freedom.

She glanced at her watch. Visiting hours were almost over. Her mother would be here soon, armed with platitudes and a carefully constructed mask of concern. Tiara braced herself. She hadn't told them yet. The doctor had advised her to wait, to process the news herself before burdening her family. But Tiara knew she couldn't delay it much longer.

Taking a deep breath, she added another item to her list:

- Tell them.

A shadow fell across the table. "Tiara? What are you doing here all alone?" Her mother's voice dripped with a practiced sweetness that never quite reached her eyes.

"Just thinking," Tiara replied, closing the notebook.

Her mother scrutinized her, her gaze sharp and assessing. "You look pale. Are you taking your vitamins?"

"Yes, Mama."

"Good. Adrian will be here later. He's been so worried."

Tiara's stomach clenched. Worried about the inheritance, no doubt. "I need to talk to you and Papa," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

Her mother frowned. "Can't it wait? We have dinner plans with the Alcantaras."

"No, Mama. It can't."

The hum of the fluorescent lights seemed to grow louder, the sterile scent of the hospital more suffocating. Tiara knew this was it, the moment of truth. She was about to shatter the carefully constructed facade of her life, and she had no idea what would be left in its wake.