"Will you be my Mrs. Angela Marie Adriano–dela Fuente?"
Before Angela could reply, Andres cut in: "At last—you finally asked! Your speech was so long we were getting bored over here!"
Clark's dad burst out laughing at that comment—as serious as the moment was, everyone smiled.
Eyes brimming, Angela nodded while staring at Clark, who was on the verge of tears himself.
"No, baby—don't just nod. Say it, please. I want to hear it," Clark whispered, his voice trembling.
"Of course, baby. Yes—I want to be your Mrs. dela Fuente!" Angela answered, whole-heartedly.
In one quick motion Clark stood, slid the ring onto her finger, kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, then her lips, and pulled her into an embrace—not too tight, not too loose, just enough for them both to feel the warmth of their love.
"Thank you, baby. Thank you for making me happy. I love you so much," Clark murmured as Angela held him close.
Naturally, the ever-playful Andres couldn't stay quiet.
"Gel, lend me my best friend for a sec—just want to congratulate him, promise!" he called, drawing more laughter.
Angela chuckled too, and only then noticed several guests she hadn't seen right away.
She hurried over to her aunt and uncle—Dylan's parents—who were also in tears watching her. They hugged her warmly.
They didn't have to say it; Angela could feel their sadness and wistfulness—that her own parents hadn't lived to see this moment. Yet in her heart she knew they were there: Mom, Dad, and Gelo—with Gelo's child—watching, supporting, happy for her.
Then came an even bigger surprise.
Kitty appeared, husband Lance and their child in tow. Angela frowned in surprise—she had no idea Kitty was back.
Clark knew, though; the couple were his accomplices. They had helped arrange temporary lodging for Kitty's family. They'd first gone to Orange County to visit Angela's family's graves before coming to San Francisco. Clark had picked them up at the airport and explained the proposal plan. Kitty decided to delay her appearance for maximum surprise—and, perfectly, Lance had arrived that same day.
"Congratulations! You truly deserve it!" Kitty cried, hugging Angela.
"Thank you! I didn't know you were here!"
"It's called a surprise, duh!" the two laughed, just like old times.
"Come on, love, greet your Aunt Gel," Kitty said to her child.
Lance offered his congratulations next, then Kitty turned to Clark.
The evening was joyous—full of laughter, stories, and teasing, especially from Andres and Clark's dad. It grew even more special with warm congratulations from Clark's mother and her current husband. Angela's relatives and Kitty and Lance's family mingled in cheerful conversation. For a moment, everything felt whole.
While everyone clapped for Angela and Clark, a heart was quietly breaking elsewhere in San Francisco…
Elle stood alone, staring into the distance, a glass of wine in hand.
"How am I going to tell them?" she whispered—meaning her parents.
She was alone now. Aries had had to return to Australia for his chemical-engineering work; he was based there temporarily. Their plan was simple: if he managed to move to Canada, she'd live there too and step away from the fashion world for a while, making the most of her time with Aries.
She had thought she was ready to face her parents—but with her flight to the Philippines leaving tomorrow, her chest tightened.
Her parents were in La Union overseeing construction on a new resort. Tourism had boomed in La Union also known as Elyu, so they'd decided to sell their Hawaii resort and settle in the Philippines. Her mother wanted to be near her own parents—Elle's grandparents—and no longer live abroad.
But that wasn't what unsettled Elle.
She'd braced herself: she knew her family would be furious, might even hate her. She also didn't know when she could face Angela—certainly not yet.
Everything came rushing back. In wanting so desperately to be with Aries, to keep him, she'd used Angela.
Angela, who'd done nothing wrong. Angela, whom she still couldn't face.
And Darius—who, painful as it was, would deal with the divorce through their lawyers.
Darius, who had done nothing but understand her and support her dreams, especially her career.
Only now did Elle feel the full weight of it all. Darius was furious at her for what she'd done to the woman who had once been part of his life. She'd never foreseen this outcome. Back then she'd thought only of herself—her own happiness.
Now… now she tasted regret.
She wished she'd never gone through with it, wished she'd been honest with Darius, wished she hadn't hurt anyone else.
She remembered how she convinced herself to marry Darius:
"Baby girl, no matter how much you love someone, if he isn't meant for you there's nothing you can do—except accept the one who's here now, who loves you and is ready to marry you,"
her older cousin—an LGBTQ+ designer in Paris and the reason she pursued modeling—had advised.
"It's been years and you know nothing about that other guy—no idea where he is, if he'll keep his promises. He hasn't shown up, girl," the cousin insisted.
That was when she was in Paris, preparing for a photoshoot and collecting her gown for the upcoming wedding to Darius; she and her cousin were to fly home together for it.
So many "if only" thoughts… yet she knew none of it could be taken back.
Elle felt the sting of truth in her chest, a bitterness she couldn't spit out. There was no way back, no erasing the damage she'd caused.
All she could do now was face—and accept—the consequences and repercussions of her actions.