Lina's POV
Three days have passed since the night I can't fully remember, and Rio has become a ghost in his own penthouse. He leaves before I wake up and returns after I'm asleep, communicating only through Maria or Patricia when necessary. The few times I've caught glimpses of him, he's treated me with the cold politeness reserved for unwelcome strangers.
I throw myself into work with desperate intensity, taking meetings at all hours and expanding Salvacion Medical Marketing at a pace that has Isabella constantly updating my schedule. Diego has been a constant source of support, never mentioning that night beyond asking if I'm feeling better, but I can see the concern in his eyes every time he looks at me.
"Miss Salvacion," Isabella announces as she enters my office with her tablet, "you have a visitor downstairs. She doesn't have an appointment, but she insisted it's personal. A Ms. Jennie Park?"
The name means nothing to me, but something about it makes my chest tighten with unease.
"Send her up," I say, curiosity overriding caution.
The woman who enters my office five minutes later is petite and beautiful, with the kind of effortless elegance that comes from good breeding and expensive education. She's wearing a simple but perfectly tailored dress that probably costs more than most people's monthly salary, and her smile is warm but assessing.
"Miss Salvacion," she says, extending a manicured hand. "I'm Jennie Park. I believe you know my childhood friend, Emilio Kalinawan."
The way she says Rio's real name, with familiar affection, makes something cold settle in my stomach.
"Please, call me Lina. How can I help you, Ms. Park?"
"Jennie, please." She settles into the chair across from my desk with casual grace. "I just returned from Seoul—I've been completing my medical residency there for the past two years. Emilio and I have been friends since we were children, and I wanted to meet the woman who finally captured his heart."
She talks nice, but her dark eyes look like she's planning something, so I stay careful and watch closely.
"That's very kind of you," I reply carefully.
"You know, I was surprised when I heard about your engagement," Jennie says, talking like she's just chatting but also serious. "Emilio has always worked hard and kept his feelings to himself. I didn't think anyone could get close to him."
"He's... complicated," I agree, unsure where this conversation is heading.
Jennie laughs, a tinkling sound that somehow manages to be both musical and slightly condescending. "That's one word for it. But I suppose that's part of his appeal, isn't it? The challenge of taming Rio Kalinawan."
The way she talks about him, like she knows him better than anyone else in the world, makes my jaw clench despite myself.
"We understand each other," I say diplomatically.
"I'm sure you do." Jennie's smile doesn't reach her eyes. "Though I have to ask—how are you handling his... moods? Emilio has always had a tendency to push people away when he feels vulnerable. Especially women."
The observation is too accurate, too personal, and it hits closer to home than I care to admit.
"We work through our issues," I reply, but my voice sounds less confident than I'd like.
"Of course you do. And I suppose having your own successful company helps with the independence factor. Emilio has never been attracted to clingy women." She pauses, tilting her head with feigned curiosity. "Though I have to ask—doesn't it bother you that he's never actually said he loves you publicly? In all the interviews and articles I've read, he talks about respect and partnership, but never love."
The words hit like physical blows because they're true. In all our public appearances, all our carefully orchestrated romance, Rio has never once said he loves me where it could be recorded or quoted.
"Our relationship is private," I manage to say.
"Oh, absolutely. I didn't mean to pry." Jennie's smile is all innocence, but her eyes are sharp as knives. "I just worry about him sometimes. He's been through so much—losing his parents, building his empire from nothing, carrying the weight of his mother's memory. He needs someone who truly understands that burden."
She stands gracefully, smoothing down her dress. "Anyway, I should let you get back to work. I'm sure you're incredibly busy. Perhaps we could have lunch sometime? I'd love to hear more about your company."
"That would be... nice," I lie.
"Wonderful. And Lina?" She pauses at the door, her expression suddenly serious. "Take care of him. Emilio may seem invincible, but underneath all that armor, he's still the scared little boy who watched his mother die. He needs someone who won't give up on him.
After she leaves, I sit alone in my office, her words echoing in my head. Someone who won't give up on him when things get difficult. How can I keep fighting for someone who forgets what we had and acts like I'm a stranger in our own home?
Rio's POV
Patricia interrupts my review of cardiac algorithm data, knocking on my door with a worried look.
"Sir, there's someone here to see you. She says it's a surprise."
Before I can ask who it is, the door opens and Jennie Park walks in, smiling like she used to when I was a kid and made my childhood better.
"Surprise!" she says, throwing her arms around me in a hug that smells like jasmine and memories.
For the first time in days, I feel my face relax into something resembling genuine happiness. "Jennie. When did you get back from Seoul?"
"Last week. I wanted to surprise you." She pulls back to study my face with the keen eyes of someone who knows me too well. "You look terrible. When was the last time you slept?"
"I sleep."
"I mean real sleep, not those two-hour power naps you used to take in college when you were stressed." She settles into the chair across from my desk with the casual familiarity of someone who's known me since we were children. "So, tell me about this mysterious fiancée everyone's talking about."
Something cold settles in my chest at the mention of Lina. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything. How did you meet? When did you realize you were in love? Why didn't you tell me you were capable of falling for someone?"
The questions feel like needles under my skin. How can I explain that I don't know when I started falling for Lina, that I'm not even sure what love is supposed to feel like, that everything between us is so complicated I can't untangle truth from performance anymore?
"It's... new," I say, the same inadequate response I gave her before.
Jennie's expression grows serious. "Emilio, what's going on? I met your fiancée today, and while she's lovely, there's something... off about the way she talks about your relationship."
"You met Lina?" The words come out sharper than I intended.
"I wanted to introduce myself. But Rio, she seemed almost... distant when she talked about you. Like she was reciting lines instead of talking about the man she loves."
Because that's exactly what she was doing, I think bitterly. Because our entire relationship is an arrangement, a performance, a business transaction that got complicated by one night of drug-induced intimacy that she can't even remember.
"She's probably just being professional. Lina doesn't like to mix business with personal."
"Is that what this is about? Her business?" Jennie leans forward, her voice gentle but probing. "Rio, please tell me you didn't create some kind of arrangement with this woman. Please tell me this isn't another one of your calculated business decisions."
The accuracy of her observation makes me flinch. Jennie has always been able to see through me, even when I was trying to hide.
"It's complicated," I admit.
"Complicated how?"
I can't tell her the truth—that Lina was supposed to be a temporary solution to a business problem, that somewhere along the way I started falling for her, that I've made such a mess of everything I don't know how to fix it.
"She's... important to me," I say finally. "More important than I expected."
Jennie studies my face for a long moment, and I can see her processing what I'm not saying.
"Oh, Rio," she says softly. "You're in love with her."
"I don't know what love is."
"Yes, you do. You're just terrified of it." She reaches across the desk to squeeze my hand. "What happened? Why do you look like someone who's lost everything?"
The kindness in her voice, the genuine concern from someone who's known me since before I learned to build walls around my heart, nearly breaks me completely.
"I hurt her," I admit quietly. "I was trying to protect myself, and I hurt her instead."
"Then fix it."
"I don't know how."
Jennie is quiet for a moment, then looks more sure and says, "Maybe I can help. I'm staying in the city for some months while I decide what to do next. I can spend time with both of you and try to fix the distance between you."
The offer should feel like salvation, but something about it makes me uneasy. Maybe because Jennie represents the past, the safety of childhood friendship, while Lina represents something far more dangerous—a future I'm not sure I'm brave enough to reach for.
"That's not necessary—"
"It's already decided," Jennie says with the stubborn determination I remember from our youth. "You're my oldest friend, Rio. I'm not going to let you sabotage your own happiness out of fear."
As she leaves, promising to call soon about dinner plans, I realize I've made yet another mistake in a series of increasingly catastrophic errors in judgment.
Because the last thing my complicated, painful relationship with Lina needs is the introduction of the one person who knew me before I became the man capable of earning her love.
Lina's POV
That evening, I'm working late in my home office when I hear voices coming from the living room—Rio's voice, and a woman's laughter that I recognize from this afternoon. Jennie Park is here.
Curiosity overrides discretion, and I find myself moving quietly to where I can observe them without being seen. What I witness stops me cold.
Rio is sitting on the couch with Jennie curled up next to him, both of them looking through what appears to be a photo album. But it's not just their proximity that shocks me—it's Rio's face.
He's smiling. Really, genuinely smiling in a way I've never seen him smile. His entire demeanor is relaxed, open, almost boyish as Jennie points to pictures and tells stories that make him laugh—actually laugh—with a sound of pure joy.
"Remember this one?" Jennie says, pointing to what looks like a childhood photo. "You were so convinced you could climb that tree, and then you got stuck twenty feet up and cried until Lolo had to call the fire department."
"I was seven," Rio protests, but he's grinning. "And I wasn't crying. I was... strategically vocalizing for assistance."
Jennie throws back her head and laughs, the sound bright and musical, and Rio watches her with an expression of such fond affection that it makes my chest ache.
This is who he really is, I realize with devastating clarity. This warm, laughing, genuinely happy man exists—he just doesn't exist for me.
"I missed this," Jennie says softly, her head dropping to rest on Rio's shoulder with casual intimacy. "I missed you."
"I missed you too," he replies, and there's something in his voice I've never heard before—complete, unguarded honesty.
They look perfect together, I think with a stab of pain. Two beautiful people who've known each other their entire lives, who share history and inside jokes and the kind of comfortable intimacy that can't be faked or manufactured.
Everything I've been trying to build with Rio, Jennie already has effortlessly.
I retreat to my room before they can discover me watching, but the image is burned into my memory: Rio, genuinely happy for the first time since I've known him, with someone who isn't me.
Someone who will never be me.