Bella's laughter echoed in the empty ballroom as she posed for another round of faux candid shots. The photographer clicked without heart, and the staff moved like ghosts — all aware something was off.
Then the door slammed open.
Vince.
He looked different — not disheveled, not angry, but resolute. Eyes sharp. Shoulders squared.
Bella's lips parted. "Vince..."
He held up a hand. "Don't. No more lies."
The entire room stilled.
"I know everything," Vince said. "You and Maverick. The deal. The pressure. This fake image of love."
Bella blinked, trying to summon her usual charm. "You're being dramatic. I love you, Vince. Maybe I made mistakes, but it was still real—"
"No, it wasn't." His voice cut through her performance. "Because I know what real feels like now."
Bella froze.
"I only ever felt that with her," Vince said.
Chloe sat alone on a bench outside the venue, the chill of dusk wrapping around her like warning. She had tried to avoid everything that day — the couple, the questions, even Denise. She just needed air. Distance.
And then Vince appeared, breathless.
"Chloe."
She didn't move.
"I ended it," he said simply.
She looked up slowly. "I know."
"I should've done it sooner. But I was too blind... too used to following what others expected."
She finally faced him. His eyes — tired, sincere — held no more hesitation.
"She never really wanted me," Vince continued. "She wanted a name. A life. A lie."
"And you?" Chloe asked softly. "What did you want?"
"You," he answered without pause. "Maybe I didn't know it at first. Maybe I was in denial. But I knew the moment I started looking for your face even when she was next to me. I knew when silence with you felt louder than conversations with anyone else."
Tears welled in her eyes. "You're just saying that kasi nasaktan ka."
"No, Chloe. I'm saying it because when the world turned upside down, you were the only thing that felt right."
She stood, shaken. "Vince... this is all too much. This isn't love. This is fallout. You're running from her. From the pain."
"No," he said firmly. "I'm walking toward something real."
"But I'm not part of the plan," she whispered.
"Exactly. That's why it's real."
She shook her head. "I can't... I don't want to be another impulsive choice."
"You're not," he said. "You were never a choice, Chloe. You were it."
Her heart screamed to believe him.
But her wounds whispered louder.
"I need time," she said, stepping back.
Vince didn't stop her. He simply nodded, eyes glinting with unshed tears. "I'll wait. However long it takes."
She turned and walked away.
Not because she didn't feel the same.
But because she did — and that terrified her more than anything.
Inside her apartment that night, Chloe curled on her bed, still in the clothes from earlier. She stared at the ceiling as Denise quietly entered the room, setting down a cup of tea.
"He told you?" Denise asked.
Chloe nodded.
"And?"
"I left."
Denise sighed. "Why?"
"Because it felt like a dream. And every dream I ever had... ended in abandonment."
"Chlo," Denise sat beside her, "you've spent your whole life building perfect moments for everyone else. Maybe it's time you start building one for you."
Chloe stared at her. "But what if I get it wrong?"
Denise smiled gently. "Then it's your story to rewrite."
Chloe's heart thudded painfully. The wedding planner in her knew when a union was doomed — and when something rare, something terrifyingly genuine, was fighting to bloom.
She had always planned with logic.
But this time?
This one needed her heart.
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