THE WRONG BRIDE

CHAPTER FOUR – A House Built on Silence

Morning light spilled into the kitchen — golden, warm, soft. Pero kahit gano’n, malamig pa rin ang simoy ng hangin sa loob ng bahay.

Elara moved quietly, making breakfast like every morning — two cups of coffee, one black, one sweet. She placed both on the table, just in case.

But as always, only one cup was ever touched.

Alen entered the kitchen in his crisp white shirt; already buttoned up, watch in place. Every move was precise, mechanical — parang sanay na sanay na sa buhay na walang halong emosyon.

“Good morning,” she said, softly.

“Hmm.”

That was his reply. Not even a glance.

“I made you coffee,” she tried again.

“You don’t have to. I can manage. Hindi naman ako paralisado para pagsilbihan mo.”

He took his black coffee, walked to the door, and picked up his briefcase.

As he left, he added—

“You can redecorate the house if you want. Just don’t change my room.”

Then the door closed.

~~~

The silence that followed was almost cruel.

Elara sat down, staring at the untouched cup of coffee she made for herself — now cold, like everything else in her life.

Days blurred into routine. He’d go to work before sunrise, come home past midnight. No questions, no conversation, no warmth. Only the faint sound of doors opening and closing, like a rhythm that never changed.

~~~

One night, while waiting for him to come home, she fell asleep on the couch. When she woke up, the clock read 2:43 AM.

The lights were still on. She found him in his office — typing, his jaw clenched, his sleeves rolled up, papers scattered.

“You should rest,” she said gently. “You’ve been working all day.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he snapped voice sharp.

She flinched.

He sighed immediately after — but didn’t say sorry. He never did.

“I just… wanted to help.”

“Hindi ko kailangan.”

And that was it.

She stood there for a moment, and then quietly closed the door behind her — this time, careful not to make a sound.

~~~

In the days that followed, she learned how to live around his silence. How to speak softer. How to stop asking questions. At kung paano magmahal without expecting anything back.

But one morning, something shifted. He came downstairs earlier than usual. He looked at her — really looked, for the first time in weeks — and said,

“I’ll be out of town for a few days. Business trip.”

“Okay. Do you need anything packed?”

“No. Just… don’t wait up.”

She smiled faintly. “I always do.”

He paused — as if the words almost reached him.

But then he looked away.

“You don’t have to.”

~~~

That night, Elara wrote in her small journal:

He never raises his voice. He never touches me. But sometimes, I think the quiet between us hurts more than any fight ever could.