I woke up with sunlight warming my skin.
As soon as I opened my eyes, confusion settled in. I was lying in a room I didn't recognize—somewhere completely unfamiliar.
Where am I?
How did I end up here?
I shook my head, forcing myself to remember what happened the night before. Then, one by one, the memories crashed back into me, and my eyes widened.
Shit.
I covered my mouth in shock.
"Did something happen between us?" I blurted out.
Charlene, you're so stupid.
So weak.
I grabbed my hair and lightly slapped my cheek. I couldn't understand why I let everything happen. He was drunk—but I wasn't. I was fully conscious, yet I didn't even try to stop him.
Damn it.
What am I supposed to do now?
And how did I really get here?
I looked down at the clothes I was wearing. They weren't what I had on last night. I hugged myself as a realization hit me—he must have changed my clothes.
Damn it.
My chest felt tight with anxiety. I couldn't shake the feeling that this was my fault. I was the one thinking clearly. I was the one who should have stopped everything.
A knock on the door made me sit up abruptly.
Is that Kerill?
What should I do? This is so embarrassing.
"Are you awake, Ma'am Charlene?"
It was Saviel's voice. How did he know I was here? Did Kerill tell him what happened?
"I'm coming in, ma'am," he said as he turned the lock.
He greeted me with a smile.
"Looks like you slept well," he joked.
I couldn't respond. I was still too nervous.
"I brought your breakfast," he added, setting the tray on the table. "Boss said you should be taken care of and fed properly."
Kerill said that?
Why?
"Looks like you've leveled up, ma'am," Saviel teased. "You're already staying in the boss's room."
This is his room?
"Ma'am? Ma'am Charlene?"
I snapped out of my daze when he waved his hand in front of my face. I hadn't realized how long I'd been spacing out.
"Where is he?" I asked absentmindedly.
"Huh? Who, ma'am?"
"Kerill. Where is he?"
"He already left for work. Please eat before the food gets cold."
So I did.
After eating, I stayed inside Kerill's room. I walked around, taking everything in. The room was enormous—big enough to fit ten people. It was even larger than my room downstairs.
It was located on the third floor, the only room on that level.
Despite its size, there was little inside. Mostly books, and framed photos of his children. There were barely any personal belongings.
Near the large window overlooking the back of the mansion was his desk. The view outside was beautiful.
As I approached it, one of the drawers slid open accidentally. I thought it was locked, but it wasn't.
Inside was a picture frame, placed face down.
I picked it up—and froze.
It was a photo of him and Monica.
Monica was holding a younger Lily. The twins stood beside her, their faces still soft with innocence. Kerill stood behind them, carrying Ericka on his shoulders.
They looked happy.
The kind of happiness you wish would never end.
I traced the photo with my fingers.
Why does this hurt?
A thought suddenly stopped me.
Could it be… that I'm starting to feel something for Kerill?
I shook my head immediately. No. That's impossible. We haven't known each other for long. We're not even that close. How could I fall for him?
Impossible.
I returned the photo frame and moved toward the mini library. Business books. All of them. Boring.
Then something caught my eye.
A photo album with a brown leather cover.
I opened it—and gasped.
It was filled with photos of him and Monica. Stickers. Handwritten notes in permanent marker. It felt like a journal.
An old one. The photos were already fading.
That's when I realized—it was their memory journal.
There were photos from their high school days. On every picture of Monica, the words "My wife" were written.
I could feel how deeply he loved her. Through Monica, I saw a side of Kerill I never expected—a man who made photo albums, complete with cheesy designs and captions.
Every page was overflowing with love.
I kept turning the pages—monthsaries, anniversaries, their wedding, until the day Ericka was born.
At the very end was a small red pouch.
I opened it.
Two rings.
Wedding rings.
"What do you think you're doing with my personal things?!"
The door flew open. Startled, I dropped one of the rings. It rolled across the floor, but I didn't even try to retrieve it.
He stormed toward me, furious.
"Get out," he said sharply.
"I didn't mean to—"
"I said, get out!"
He grabbed my arm roughly and dragged me toward the door.
"Ouch! Let go! You're hurting me!" I cried, trying to pull away.
His grip was too tight—almost crushing.
"I said you're hurting me!"
He finally released me near the doorway.
"Don't you know I have CCTV in my room?" he shouted. "I saw everything you did. I don't like anyone touching my things!"
"I was just looking. I wasn't stealing anything—"
"I don't like it. Now get out of my room!"
It felt like something stabbed straight through my chest.
Is that it?
After everything?
"Are you really just going to throw me away?" I asked, my voice shaking.
"Get out—"
"I can't do this, Kerill. This isn't what we agreed on. I'm struggling. I'm confused. I don't even understand why I'm hurting—why I feel jealous!"
His face hardened.
"I already told you, Charlene. No feelings allowed. Stop whatever you're feeling while it's still early."
"Then why did you kiss me? Why?"
"Because I saw Monica in you. I don't like you. I don't feel anything for you. Stop your drama and go back to your room—"
He didn't get to finish.
I slapped him.
"Don't worry," I said, my voice trembling. "I'll stop feeling this way. I'm sorry, sir. From now on, I'll just be professional at work."
I left him there.
I ran back to my room, my breathing uneven, tears finally spilling over.
I thought I didn't like him.
So why does it hurt this much?
Why does it feel like something inside me shattered?
It hurts.
So badly.