Manila looked the same, but she wasn't. When the bus rolled back into the city, she stepped off with quiet resolve. The noise, the heat, the endless motion—it no longer felt overwhelming. It simply existed.
She took a deep breath, hailed a taxi, and gave the driver her condo address. The ride was uneventful. Manila's streets were still the same—full of life and distractions. But inside her, something had changed. Something heavy had finally lifted.
When she arrived, her condo greeted her with silence. She left her suitcase by the door and walked straight to the bathroom. The warm water from the shower flowed down her back, washing away the past few days. But even that comfort couldn't compare to the calm she had found in Baguio. There was something about that city—the cool air, the quiet, the unfamiliar streets—that allowed her to breathe. Its silence felt more like home than anything Troy had ever offered her.
She had just finished drying her hair and was preparing a simple lunch when a knock interrupted her thoughts. She opened the door and found Danica standing there, arms crossed, her eyes scanning her from head to toe.
"God, Max," Danica said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "You disappeared."
She let her in and closed the door. "I needed to breathe. I'm sorry."
Danica placed her bag on the counter and turned to face her. "Are you okay?"
"I am now," she said simply.
Danica raised a brow. "So… you turned off your phone, ran off somewhere, and came back looking like someone walking around without a soul?"
A faint smile tugged at her lips. "You always know how to exaggerate."
Danica didn't smile back. "It's not funny, Max. I was worried sick. Even your mom kept calling me, asking if you were with me. Marco thought I was hiding you. We even argued because of you." She rubbed her temples like the stress had finally caught up.
She looked down, guilt creeping in. "I'm sorry," she said gently. "I'll be home tonight. For dinner."
Danica's expression softened. She stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. "Just don't ever do that again without telling me. Promise?"
"I promise," she whispered. "I just needed to go somewhere where he didn't exist."
Danica nodded slightly while still holding her. She smiled faintly. Danica wasn't just her best friend; she had always been more than that. Even before marrying her brother, she had been like a real sister to her.
That evening, she stood in front of the Dela Fuentes mansion, her designer bag in hand and heart slightly steadier than it had been in days. The grand house looked unchanged, bathed in the warm amber glow of the porch lights.
Above the entrance, carved into the stone archway, were the words: La gracia en todas las cosas. Grace in all things. The phrase had been passed down from their great-grandmother—a woman of Spanish descent whose elegance and quiet strength had become a legacy in their family.
The door opened before she could even ring the bell.
"Señorita," the housekeeper greeted with a warm smile.
"Hi. Are Mom and Dad home?"
Her mother appeared instantly, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Honey, where have you been? We were so worried. Your phone was off."
"I'm okay, Mom. I just needed a little time alone."
Her father followed shortly, chuckling. "Next time, leave a note at least. Your mom was about to call the police."
They all laughed softly, and she felt something inside her ease. It was comforting—being with people who cared without needing explanations.
Their dinner was warm, not just in temperature, but in atmosphere. Kare-kare, adobo, and a bottle of her favorite red wine filled the table. The conversations flowed effortlessly. Her mom chatted about her new obsession with indoor plants. Her dad shared stories from their recent business trip to Singapore. And Marco mentioned landing another major client.
Midway through dinner, her mom looked at her thoughtfully. "Honey, your dad and I are going to Europe next month. It's our anniversary trip. You and Marco are welcome to join us."
"I can't, Mom. I've decided to patch things up with my wife," her brother said casually.
She nearly choked on her drink. If Danica had been there, she was sure her best friend would be blushing all over.
She cleared her throat and turned to her parents, trying to act casual. "I'll think about it," she replied, sending her brother a teasing smile.
At this point, she was sure things between Danica and Marco were finally falling into place. After years of quiet longing, her best friend would finally be happy. And that thought alone made her heart lighter.
"No pressure," her dad added. "Just let us know."
Later that night, they moved to the lanai to enjoy tea. The maid brought out the tray while her father stepped away to take a call. Marco had already left earlier due to an urgent matter at work, leaving her alone with her mom.
"You look different," her mother said gently, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
She smiled. "Better or worse?"
Her mother studied her. "Stronger."
There was something in her mother's eyes—a quiet knowing. Like she understood, even without the full story.
"I know you don't like talking about things," her mother said softly. "But you don't have to carry everything alone. I'm here. Always."
She nodded and leaned over to hug her. For a long time, she had kept everything to herself, believing that love meant holding on, no matter how painful. She had given Troy her time, her loyalty, her heart—without asking for anything in return. And now, the cost of that was finally clear.
But she didn't regret it. She had loved him with all she had. And now, it was time to love herself too.
Later, when the house had gone quiet, she sat outside on the veranda wrapped in a thick blanket. The air was cool. The faint hum of the city made everything feel still. Her tea had gone cold, but she didn't mind.
Her phone buzzed beside her.
From Troy:
I passed by your place. You weren't there.
She stared at the message, then quietly locked her phone.
You had your chance. That was the last.
She looked up at the stars. They looked exactly the same; calm and distant, even though everything inside her had changed.
Tomorrow, she'd return to work.
She was done breaking. This time, she'd rise and not for anyone else but herself."