His Shattered Vows

Kai’s POV

I woke up early, the quiet of the house still heavy with sleep, to make breakfast for my husband. The morning light crept through the window, casting a soft glow across the kitchen as I prepared the simple meal of eggs and sausage.

At 23, I never imagined my life would be like this. My marriage to Isaias Gabriel Lopez, or Isaias as I liked to call him, was arranged by our families. But even though it started that way, I knew we genuinely loved each other. We’d been friends for years, even dated in high school, before life took us down different paths. He left for the United States to further his education, while I stayed behind, waiting for the day we’d be together.

I set the table and waited, hoping today would be better than the last few days. But as always, the tension lingered.

“Kai?!” His voice, sharp and suddenly awake, made me jump.

“Oh, you’re up already,” I said softly, trying to greet him with a smile.

“What are you smiling for?” He snapped, the irritation clear in his tone. His words cut through the air, leaving a chill.

I bit my lip, my gaze dropping to the floor, avoiding his eyes. I could feel the knot in my stomach tightening.

“I made you some eggs and sausage,” I said, hoping he’d soften.

“I don’t want it,” he replied coldly, brushing past me to the bathroom without another glance.

I hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Is there something else you want to eat? I can cook something else for you.”

He turned to face me, his eyes hollow, as he continued brushing his teeth. It was as if he wasn’t even looking at me.

“Cut the crap, Kai!” His voice was rough, angry. “You know what I want.”

I felt a wave of frustration rise within me. “What do you want me to cook then?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Just forget it. I’ll never eat here,” he said, his words biting. He rinsed his mouth and walked past me, his shoulder brushing mine with no care. He didn’t even acknowledge my presence, as if I was invisible.

The silence that followed felt suffocating. I could hear my own heartbeat in my chest as I stood frozen, my arm still stinging from where he had gripped it earlier. I exhaled slowly, trying to push down the tears threatening to spill. This wasn’t the first time he’d shouted at me. It seemed to happen more and more lately. Another day, another argument.

We’ve been living together for over a year now, and things have only gotten worse. At first, he would simply ignore me, retreating into silence. I didn’t like it, but I could handle it. But lately, his attitude has shifted. The quiet treatment has turned into shouting, and now his actions are physically hurting me, though I still try to understand him.

I know he doesn’t love me like he once did. He used to be my high school sweetheart, the one I thought I’d be with forever. But everything changed when he went to college in the United States.

We both knew the long-distance relationship wouldn’t last. I could see the distance between us growing. I was overwhelmed with my studies and the pressure of trying to make everything work. So, I ended it. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I hurt him, and I knew it. And I can’t blame him for finding someone else in the States, someone who treated him better than I did. But even now, the thought of her makes me feel guilty. I don’t know much about her—just that he really loved her. It hurts to know I came between them, and I still carry that guilt.

After he graduated and returned home, he married me. An arranged marriage. Even in this modern world, some things stay the same. I don’t know if I was the one he wanted, or if I was just the one he ended up with. Either way, this is my life now. My heart is supposed to belong to him, but it feels like it’s caught between the past we once had and the man I barely recognize now.

But no matter how much he pushes me away, I can’t bring myself to break up with him. After all those years apart, he’s still the man I loved, and I always will. There’s a part of me that believes, deep down, that if we could somehow go back to the way things were, everything would be alright again.

He walked downstairs in his office uniform, looking just as sharp as always. I instinctively moved toward him, reaching out to fix his tie, but before I could touch it, he quickly slapped my hand away. I stepped back, hurt by the sharpness of his response, and just stood there, watching him do it himself.

He was always so handsome—tall, about 6′2, with broad shoulders and a body that looked like it belonged in a magazine. His black hair was always neat, his nose sharp, and those lips... I couldn’t deny how attractive he was. But it wasn’t just his looks that had me so lost in thought. It was the memories of the old him—the version of Isaias who smiled, the one who laughed with me and told me everything would be okay. Now, I barely saw him smile. Not at me, anyway. I would catch glimpses of it when he was around others, but never when it came to me.

“Stop staring at me,” he said, his voice flat.

I blinked, feeling my face flush. “Should I bring you lunch later?” I asked, trying to hold onto the connection we once had, even if it was just a small gesture.

“Nah,” was all he said before he grabbed his things and headed towards the door. He didn’t even spare me a second glance before slamming it shut behind him.

I followed him, my heart heavy, trailing behind him into the garage.

“Take care,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. But he didn’t respond. He just started the car and sped off without looking back, as if he was running away from me, running away from everything.

The tears started to fall then, slowly at first, then all at once, as I watched him drive away. I wished with all my heart that I could just leave—leave him, leave this life. But I couldn’t. Not when our families had invested so much in this marriage. They believed that because we had a past, it would be enough to hold us together. They didn’t see what I saw—how broken things had become between us.

I knew I couldn’t go on pretending anymore. I loved him so much, but I couldn’t be the only one happy in this marriage. I couldn’t keep watching him suffer, knowing that he felt trapped. He was still so young, so full of dreams, and I could see how much he longed for freedom, for a life he wasn’t getting with me.

I promised myself, with every ounce of courage I could muster, that I would talk to my parents. I would tell them everything, even if it meant hurting them. I couldn’t keep living this lie, pretending that everything was fine. If I had to, I would leave him for good. It would destroy me, but it was the only way for him to find the happiness he deserved.

I picked up my phone and called my best friend, Mori.

“Hey, you called so early today. What happened? Did he do something to you? I swear, I’ll punch that guy,” Mori said, her voice full of concern. I couldn’t help but laugh—she was always so protective of me.

“You’re exaggerating, babe. You’re way too overprotective,” I told her, trying to keep things light.

“Because you don’t know how to protect yourself,” she replied, teasing me a bit.

I sighed, feeling drained. “Can I come over there?”

“Of course! Just give me 10 minutes. Me and my husband are gonna have a quick sesh—just kidding! Come on, eat breakfast here,” she said, making me laugh.

I’ve been friends with Mori and her husband Em for a long time. They were like family to me, always there when I needed them. I was so lucky to have them, especially since they were the only real friends I had.

As I hung up, I felt a little better knowing I could talk to Mori. Maybe being around her would help me clear my head.

I spent the whole day at their house, trying to drink away the sadness I couldn’t shake. I needed to let it all out. I cried so hard in front of her, overwhelmed by everything and not knowing how much longer I could keep going in this marriage.

It was really late when I finally left. Mori was passed out on the couch, and her husband drove me home because I was in no state to walk by myself. I felt dizzy, probably from drinking too much. We both had low alcohol tolerance, but tequila was our thing, even though it never ended well.

“Thanks a lot, Em. Please take care of my best friend. Don’t cheat on her, or I’ll hunt you down. I know where you live!” I slurred, getting out of his car. He laughed at me, clearly amused.

“Yes, ma’am! Give us a call if anything happens,” he said with a grin.

I smiled back and made my way inside. He drove off after making sure I was safely in the house. The lights were off when I entered, but then they suddenly flickered on, and there he was—my husband—standing in front of me, staring at me with a mix of confusion and anger.

I felt my stomach drop.

“Oh, here we go again,” I thought to myself, bracing for whatever came next.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I hadn’t expected him to be awake, let alone standing there. The way he looked at me, eyes narrowed, his jaw tense—it was like everything inside him was ready to snap. I felt a lump form in my throat as I opened my mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry, please...” My voice came out softer than I intended, and I could hear the crack in it as I bit my lower lip, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill.

“Where the hell did you go?” He snapped, his tone sharp. “Do you know how late it is? It’s almost 2 AM!”

His words stung, but there was something else too. A hint of concern? Or maybe frustration? It was hard to tell. But he sounded angry, and I couldn’t figure out if it was because he truly cared, or if it was something else entirely.

“I—I just went to have a little drink with Mori. It wasn’t—”

“A little drink?” He cut me off, his voice rising with every word. “You look wasted! What if something happened to you?”

I stopped, stunned for a moment. Wait, is he actually worried about me? My heart skipped a beat. Was he angry because he cared? Did he actually care?

But then the moment passed, and his cold tone returned. “Don’t get the wrong idea,” he said, his eyes not softening in the slightest. “Your parents will kill me if something happens to you. Now, go to your room and fucking change.”

His words hit me like a ton of bricks. There it was—his concern wasn’t about me, but about how my actions would affect his image in front of my parents. Of course, I thought bitterly, he doesn’t care about me. He just cares about saving face.

He turned his back on me without a second glance and walked away, heading upstairs without another word. I stood there, frozen, the weight of everything crashing down on me.

I took a shaky breath, wiping away the stray tear that had slipped down my cheek, before heading to my room, feeling the emptiness of it all. This was the man I married. This was the man I still loved.

But sometimes, love wasn’t enough. Sometimes, it just hurt too much.

The next day...

I woke up with a jolt, my heart racing as I glanced at the clock. Oh my God, it’s late! I scrambled out of bed, barely able to focus with my dizziness still lingering from the night before. My head was pounding, and the room felt like it was spinning, but I pushed through it. I needed to get to the kitchen—I had to make breakfast, as usual.

I rushed toward the kitchen, only to stop in my tracks when I saw him. Rafa. He was standing by the stove, stirring something in a pot. Isaias... cooking?

“Isaias—” I started, unsure of what to say, feeling the surprise in my voice. I hadn’t seen him cook in... well, ever. He wasn’t someone who cared about food or even acknowledged the meals I made, but here he was, focused on something in the pot.

He looked at me for a brief moment, and I noticed the flicker of something in his eyes—embarrassment, maybe? It was hard to tell. He looked away quickly and muttered, “I’m hungry. It’s my kitchen, too.”

His voice was emotionless, as if he was simply stating a fact. There was no warmth, no affection. Just a coldness I’d grown accustomed to. He turned back to his cooking, as if I wasn’t even there.

I stood frozen, processing what was happening. I was still half asleep and feeling terrible from the night before. My stomach growled loudly, reminding me that I was starving, but my head felt like it was going to explode. I swear, I’ll never drink again, I thought to myself, vowing to never make that mistake again.

I glanced over at the calendar on the wall, the date catching my eye. Sunday. Wait, it’s Sunday today. He didn’t have work today, I remembered. But that didn’t mean much. Rafa always went out on Sundays. He never stayed at home. He preferred to avoid me, like he always did. But today was different. He was here. In the kitchen. Cooking.

I watched as he continued, his movements steady and familiar. It wasn’t anything fancy, just simple soup, but the fact that he was making something for the both of us caught me off guard. Soup for breakfast.

I stood there, unsure if I should offer to cook, but before I could say anything, Isaias spoke again.

“Uh, are you done? I’m gonna cook—”

He didn’t even let me finish before he snapped, his voice cold as ever, “I left you some there. Eat it. I’m gonna eat upstairs.”

I felt a twinge in my chest. Upstairs? He was going to eat alone? Without even offering to share the table with me? His words stung, but there was something about them that caught my attention—he had made sure there was some left for me. That small action sent a ripple through my heart.

I looked down at the counter, where a bowl of soup was waiting for me. For a second, I was speechless. I wanted to say something, to ask him why, but the words didn’t come. All I could do was watch him leave, his back to me as he rushed up the stairs, disappearing from my sight.

A quiet smile slowly formed on my lips, but it wasn’t the kind of smile I expected. It wasn’t one of happiness or relief. It was bittersweet. I felt a lump in my throat, and before I could stop myself, my eyes welled up with tears. Why is he doing this to me?

I wiped my eyes quickly, but it was no use. The tears kept coming. It hurt, but at the same time, something deep inside me was grateful for his small gesture. I walked over to the dining table, the one we never used together, and sat down by myself. This was the table I had hoped we’d share a meal at, but it never happened. I stared at the bowl of soup in front of me. He had made it for me. He had thought of me for once.

I picked up my spoon and tasted the soup, the warmth filling my mouth. It was good, surprisingly good. And in that moment, I broke down. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I ate alone, surrounded by the silence of the house. The soup he made for me, the fact that he had cooked at all, made my heart ache. Why was he doing this now? After all this time, why show this small act of kindness?

Did he still care? I asked myself, but I knew deep down that even if he did, it was complicated. He wasn’t the same person I once knew. And maybe I wasn’t either.

I ate in silence, my heart heavy with so many questions I didn’t have answers to. But for a moment, just a brief moment, I let myself feel the tenderness of what he had done, no matter how small. And I cried, for the past, for the present, and for the future that seemed so uncertain.

The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow through the window, and yet he hadn’t left his room since breakfast. I was busy cooking dinner when the doorbell rang, breaking the quiet. I started to walk toward the door, but then I saw him—he came rushing down the stairs in his pajamas, like he was running a race. I couldn’t help but watch him for a second, though I quickly turned away, making sure he didn’t catch me smiling at how cute he looked.

He got to the door and opened it, revealing an older man standing outside. The two of them walked into the dining area, where they began talking in low voices. I was still in the kitchen, so I could see them through the doorway, and I noticed the serious tone in their conversation. I couldn’t help but overhear a bit of what they were saying.

The old man was holding a few pictures—photographs that looked like they had been taken without permission. I could see the face of a woman in one of them. She was beautiful, and I couldn’t help but wonder who she was. Why did this man have pictures of her? My curiosity grew when I saw my husband holding one of the photos, staring at it with a serious expression.

“I don’t think she’s married,” the old man said, his voice firm.

Who was he talking about? And why would my husband care whether or not she was married? Then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit me.

Could that woman... be his ex-girlfriend from the States?

It had been two weeks since I discovered that he was looking for his ex-girlfriend, and in those two weeks, something had changed in him. He had been acting strangely... kind. It wasn’t the typical warmth I used to get from him, but it was different—gentler, almost like he was trying to make up for something. I didn’t know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Was he being kind because he was in a good mood? Maybe because his ex was still single? Or was he being this way because he wanted me to help him by letting him go? The thought of him wanting to leave me for her kept running through my mind, and I couldn’t shake it.

It felt like I was on the edge of something, and I wasn’t sure whether it was a cliff I was about to fall off or a new chapter we could turn to. My thoughts were tormenting me, and I couldn’t stop worrying.

“I want to talk to you,” he said, stepping through the door after work.

I froze for a moment, trying to read his expression. He wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look upset either. It was an odd mix of calmness and seriousness that I couldn’t quite decipher.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice shaky as I reached for his coat and bag, taking them from him absentmindedly. For the past couple of weeks, we had been behaving more like a married couple—not overly affectionate, but not distant either. It wasn’t the love we once had, but there was a quiet sense of progress.

“Let’s talk about it at dinner,” he replied.

My heart skipped a beat. Dinner? He wanted to sit down and eat with me? For the past two weeks, he had only eaten the food I cooked for him but always alone, never with me. My stomach twisted with nerves. I tried to push down the rising panic, but it was hard. What was going on in his mind?

“S-sure,” I stammered. “I made steak. I’ll get it ready.”

I turned away quickly, my hands trembling as I began to move around the kitchen. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from racing. Was he about to tell me something big? Was this the moment where everything changed? I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was about to learn something that would either break me or rebuild everything we had.

I set the table carefully, making sure everything was perfect. I even lit a candle, though I wasn’t sure why. I couldn’t help but try to create a perfect scene, as if the meal would somehow soften the blow of whatever was coming. When I finally went downstairs to wait for him, I saw him again, his damp hair still clinging to his forehead. He looked so... handsome. His features were sharp, his jawline defined. There was something about the way the light from the hallway hit his face that made him look almost angelic—like he could have been a model if he wanted. I didn’t know how to feel about it.

“I hope you’ll like it,” I said, offering a small smile, though it didn’t feel like it reached my eyes. The weight of the moment pressed down on me.

I placed the food on his plate, and when he saw it, his eyes widened slightly in surprise. I immediately dropped the knife and fork in my nervousness, terrified that I had gone overboard, that I had done too much.

“Are you okay? Why are you so nervous?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

I shook my head quickly, trying to clear the fog in my brain. “I’m fine,” I murmured, though I knew I wasn’t. I sat down, trying to make myself eat, but the food felt like it was stuck in my throat.

Minutes passed in silence, and then, as if it was the most casual thing in the world, he spoke again, his voice calm, but serious.

“I want to ask for a big favor.”

I froze. My hands shook uncontrollably as I looked at him. What was this? My mind raced, but I couldn’t find the words.

“What is it?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“I want a divorce, Kai.”

The words hit me like a slap across the face. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt tight, like a weight had settled there. My heart was pounding in my ears. I didn’t know what to say. I could barely move, as if the air had been sucked out of the room. His gaze was steady, unwavering, and I couldn’t look away.

“I know I haven’t been a great husband to you. I thought you’d break up with me, but you didn’t. And now I’m trying my best to be nicer. I hope you’ll grant my favor,” he continued, his voice soft but firm.

I felt the tears start to well up in my eyes, but I quickly blinked them back. I couldn’t cry in front of him, not like this. Not now. The knot in my throat made it impossible to speak, but my mouth opened and closed as if I were trying to say something—anything—but no words came out.

“I... I don’t know,” I finally whispered, my voice trembling.

“Yes, you do,” he insisted. “You know exactly what I’m asking.”

“I can’t,” I choked out.

His expression shifted, and I saw the anger begin to creep into his eyes. The tension in the room grew unbearable, thickening the air between us.

“What do you want, then?” His voice was sharp, his frustration bubbling to the surface. I could see it in the tightness of his jaw and the way his fists clenched.

“Not now,” I managed, shaking my head. My chest felt tight, like I was suffocating under the weight of the decision he was asking me to make.

“Then when!? What the hell, Kai!? What’s wrong with you!? A few years ago, you left me, and now you’re acting like you want me so bad! What the hell is wrong with you?” His voice cracked as he snapped, his anger spilling out all at once. He stood up, slamming his hands on the table so hard the plates rattled. I jumped, the sound of his fury making my heart race even faster.

Tears began to pour down my cheeks as I looked up at him. I couldn’t explain it. I didn’t even know why I couldn’t just let go. I felt a confusing mix of anger and love swirling inside me.

“I—I don’t know,” I sobbed, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. I couldn’t control the emotions, couldn’t make sense of them. Part of me wanted to let him go. Part of me wanted him to stay, but I hated myself for feeling that way. I hated that I couldn’t be stronger, that I couldn’t just let go of the past.

“What is wrong with you, Kai!? Why won’t you just let go of me!?” he shouted, his voice becoming more frantic. The anger was still there, but now it felt like desperation too. He slammed his fist on the table again, and I couldn’t hold back my sobs.

I just sat there, broken. My love for him was tangled up with all the hurt, and I couldn’t find a way out. I didn’t know what to do anymore.

Isaias’ POV

I couldn’t finish my dinner with Kai. The food, the atmosphere, it all felt so empty. My mind was clouded with thoughts of her—the selfish decisions she had made. It hurt, seeing her cry. Part of me wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but then I remembered—she never thought of me when she left for another guy all those years ago. How could she be so selfish? How could she not realize the pain I went through when she walked away from me without a second thought?

In the time since, I had built a life for myself. I met someone new in the States, someone who made me feel wanted, cared for. It was everything I thought I’d lost. And yet, here I was, stuck in this arranged marriage mess. It wasn’t my choice, and it never felt like my choice. I never asked for any of this. I never asked for this woman, who had broken me before, to come back into my life like nothing had happened.

I couldn’t stay in this house anymore. The weight of it all was crushing me. I wasn’t going to pretend anymore. I wasn’t going to let my life be dictated by my parents or hers. I didn’t care how they would react when they found out. I couldn’t keep going like this.

I had loved her more than anything. More than anyone. I had poured everything I had into trying to make this work, and she chose to break my heart when I needed her the most. I couldn’t be with someone who had broken me so completely.

So, I made up my mind. I was moving out. I wasn’t going to stay in this empty, painful place. This wasn’t where I belonged anymore. And I couldn’t let her continue to hold me back. I needed to let go, even if it was the hardest thing I had ever done.

Kai’s POV

A year had passed since we separated, but we still hadn’t finalized the divorce. It felt like we were stuck in limbo, a situation where time had passed, yet nothing had really changed. I still carried his last name. I still wore it like a weight around my neck, reminding me of everything I’d lost and everything I couldn’t quite let go of. Our parents had agreed to the separation, but here we were—still legally married. It felt like a cruel joke, as if we were nothing more than a business transaction to them, a piece of paperwork they could handle without thinking of the emotional toll it took on us.

But maybe it was fine. Maybe it was better this way. Slowly, over the past year, I had begun to heal, little by little. It wasn’t easy, but I was doing better. I had found ways to move forward. I still lived in our house—the house that used to be ours. I made some changes. My old room, I turned into a mini library. I filled it with books I had wanted to read for years but never had the time for. There was something comforting about getting lost in the pages of a good book, and it helped me forget, even if just for a little while, the pain that still lingered.

I slept upstairs now, where I could find some semblance of peace.

Despite everything, I still couldn’t completely escape him. Technically, we were still married, and that meant I still heard things about him. I still saw him from time to time, though I kept my distance.

I wasn’t sure what I expected from him anymore. I couldn’t keep living in the past. I had to keep moving forward, even if that meant doing it alone.

Isaias’ POV

“You know I can’t do that, right?” I said, holding her hand tightly, trying to calm the situation, but it was slipping away from me.

“Oh my god, Gabriel!” she screamed, her voice raw with anger. “I came back to you because I wanted to be married to you, but not like this! Not when I’m living like your fucking mistress!” Her words hit me hard, and she started throwing her clothes into her suitcase, each item a reminder of how broken everything had become.

I couldn’t let her leave. I couldn’t just stand there and watch her walk away. I moved closer, wrapping my arms around her from behind, holding her tightly. “Don’t leave me, please,” I whispered, my voice pleading. My heart was racing, desperate for her to stay.

She pulled away from me, spinning around to face me. Her eyes were burning with anger, and I could see no softness, no trace of the woman I loved. “Get a fucking divorce,” she demanded, her voice sharp and unforgiving.

I froze, the words cutting deeper than I ever expected. “That’s it? You’re just going to leave me?” I asked, my chest tightening as a wave of panic and disbelief washed over me. I couldn’t believe it. All of it—it felt like she was giving up on me without even a second thought.

“You’re married, for God’s sake!” she shot back, her words laced with contempt. “Call me when you’re not a married man anymore. Don’t ever come to my house again.” Her voice shook with fury, and she turned to storm out.

I watched helplessly as she closed the door behind her, the sound echoing in my mind, ringing in my ears. She was gone. Just like that. She left because of this damn marriage—the one thing I couldn’t change.

The anger started to build, a fire that rushed through me like I had been set aflame. How could she leave so easily? How could she walk away like I was nothing? It was all because of this stupid piece of paper. All of it, this pain, this heartache, was because of a damn contract. I felt like my world was collapsing, and the only thing I could do was stand there, seething with rage and confusion. She was gone, and I had no idea how to get her back.

Kai’s POV

The loud banging on the door echoed through the house, sending a jolt of panic through me. I hesitated for a moment, unsure whether I should open it, but then I decided it was better to check before things got worse. I grabbed my laptop and quickly checked the CCTV in front of my house. My heart sank when I saw him—Isaias—looking completely wasted, banging on the door like he was out of control.

Good Lord, I couldn’t just let him make a scene, especially with the neighbors so close. I rushed downstairs, my mind racing, and quickly opened the door.

The smell of alcohol hit me immediately. Rafa never drank—at least not unless something was really wrong. What could have happened? And why was he here? I was the last person he would want to talk to, wasn’t I?

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice trembling with nerves.

He stared at me for a long moment, his face blank, before he finally stepped forward and walked right past me into the house without saying a word. Panic set in. What was happening?

“What are you doing? You can’t be here!” I shouted, my voice rising higher than I intended. It was the first time I had ever shouted at him—not just shouting, but with real anger. The words caught him off guard, and he stopped in his tracks, turning to face me with an expression that was a mix of shock and exhaustion.

“We’re married, aren’t we?” he asked quietly, his eyes searching mine.

“Only on paper,” I snapped back. I couldn’t let him get away with this. “So, get out.” I stepped forward, trying to push him out of the door, but he was too tall, too strong. I couldn’t even budge him an inch.

“Then divorce me. And I won’t come here anymore,” he muttered, his voice soft but filled with frustration.

I felt my heart tighten. “You know we can’t do that. We had a deal already. Please, stop and leave!” My anger flared up again, and I shouted the words at him, trying to force him to understand that this was over.

But he snapped. “Come on, Kai! She left me just earlier today because we’re still married! And we can’t even get a fuckingdivorce? What the hell!?” His words hit me like a punch to the gut.

It hurt. It hurt so much. He really loved her that much. That much.

“Please, I’m trying to live peacefully here, Isaias,” I said, my voice breaking, but I tried to stay firm. “Don’t ever bother me again. Just get the hell out of my house.” I pushed again, but this time, I felt exhausted—not just physically, but emotionally.

“Okay, fine,” he muttered quickly, turning to leave. But then, just as I thought he was finally leaving, I saw him fumble around in his pockets and pull out his car keys. It hit me like a ton of bricks—he was planning to drive drunk. My heart raced with panic. Was he really going to drive in this state?

I felt a wave of frustration wash over me, but my conscience wouldn’t let me just leave him like that. I couldn’t let him make a mistake that could cost him everything—especially if he was too drunk to even walk straight.

I grabbed my purse and locked the door behind me before rushing outside. I was practically running as I caught up to him, and before he could even get into his car, I grabbed his arm. “What the hell are you doing right now?”

He stopped and stared at me for a moment, clearly confused by my sudden appearance. “I’m fine, Kai. Just let me go.”

“No,” I snapped. “I can’t let you drive like this. I’m driving you home.”

I didn’t give him a chance to argue. I pushed past him and slid into the driver’s seat. He stood there for a moment, still looking bewildered, but then he walked around to the passenger side and climbed in without another word.

We drove in silence. The weight of everything hung between us, thick and suffocating. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to focus on the road ahead while my mind was all over the place.

After a while, I finally asked, “Where do you live? Your address?”

He mumbled the information, and I followed his directions. But as we turned down a street, confusion hit me. This wasn’t right. I thought Isaias lived in a high-rise condominium, but now we were driving through a quiet place. The streets were unfamiliar, and the houses looked nothing like the upscale building I thought he had called home.

“Wait... this isn’t where you live,” I said, glancing at him. He didn’t respond, and his silence only made me more uneasy. Why had he given me the wrong address? Or was there something he wasn’t telling me?

I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. Something wasn’t right, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what it was.

“It’s Sienna’s,” Isaias muttered, and my heart sank. I knew it.

“Give me your real address because I am not driving you to your ex-girlfriend’s house right now,” I said, my anger flaring. How could he be so careless? So obsessed with her? I felt a bitter sting of jealousy and frustration.

“Just leave me here. Go home,” he responded, his voice flat, almost defeated. It hurt me to hear it, but at the same time, I couldn’t stop the rage building up inside. Why was he chasing her so badly? What was it about this woman that he couldn’t let go?

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I stared at him in disbelief for a moment, before feeling like everything was too much. Without another word, I threw the car door open and got out. The anger and confusion swirled in my chest, and I walked away, leaving him standing there.

I should’ve just left him earlier, I thought. I shouldn’t have insisted on driving him home. As I walked down the street, my mind raced. How was I even going to get home now?

Just then, I spotted a house with a porch light still on. Maybe I could ask someone for directions or information about public transportation. As I walked toward the house, something about the woman standing there looked familiar. She was holding a bag of groceries and looked like she was just about to go inside when I interrupted her.

“Yes?” she asked, her expression a little confused.

“Uh, where could I take public transportation from here?” I asked politely, trying to hide how off-balance I was feeling.

She smiled, and I noticed how pretty she was. “Oh, you can’t take any from here. It’s too late. Try taking a Grab,” she suggested, then her attention shifted when a guy rushed up to her, offering to help with the groceries.

He was handsome, too. Great. A power couple, no doubt.

“Oh, who’s this?” the man asked her, glancing at me with a warm smile.

“Uh, I don’t know, she’s lost,” she replied with a smile, clearly more concerned with helping me than with her own plans.

“Well, it’s late. Where do you live? We can drive you home,” he said. He was so kind and polite, but I didn’t feel comfortable accepting a ride from strangers. I was just too cautious, not knowing them at all.

As I looked at the woman’s face again, something clicked. I suddenly realized who she was. Sienna. The same Sienna Isaias had been chasing all this time, the one who had just broken up with him. Oh my God.

“Wait... are you two married?” I blurted out before I could stop myself. I knew it was an inappropriate question, but I needed to know the truth. Too many questions were swirling in my mind, and I was desperate for answers.

“Woah, chill there, lady. I just got back from Spain,” he muttered.

“Oh, I wish,” she laughed lightly, her voice warm, “but he hasn’t proposed yet. But we’ve been together for four years.” She smiled at him, and I felt a wave of dread wash over me.

Four years? I could barely process the weight of that statement when suddenly, I felt someone rush into me.

I turned, and there he was—Isaias. He came out of nowhere!

Oh my god, this can’t be happening right now! My heart was racing as I watched the scene unfold in front of me. Isaias was trembling with rage, his face flushed, and I could see his fists clenching. He was barely holding himself back, and it was terrifying.

“This is why you broke up with me earlier? Because you’ve been with him for three years already? Since we were together in the States? Really?!” His voice was dangerously low, and the anger in it made me feel like I could explode. I quickly stepped forward, grabbing his arm in an attempt to calm him down. His body was rigid, like a coiled spring, ready to snap. I was terrified that he was about to lash out at someone.

Sienna’s boyfriend looked confused, his brow furrowing. “Who are you?” he demanded, glancing between us. “And what are you talking about?”

“I don’t know them,” Sienna said quickly, her voice shaking. “Let’s just go inside, please. Lady, bring your boyfriend home.”

Her anxiety was evident as she tugged on her boyfriend’s arm, trying to pull him away. But Isaias wasn’t having it. He held Sienna’s arm tightly, and in a split second, her boyfriend grabbed Isaias by the collar, his face twisted with anger. Isaias was taller, but the two men were built similarly. I could feel the tension in the air, and I had no idea how to stop them from fighting.

“Stop it! Please, don’t make a scene here!” Sienna hissed, her voice trembling with panic. Her eyes flickered to me, and for the first time, there was something sharp in her gaze. “Bring him home.”

I was frozen, my heart pounding. What was happening? What was going on between Isaias and Sienna? Why was she so desperate to hide something?

Then, Isaias did something that made my stomach churn. He pulled out his phone and showed her boyfriend a series of pictures—intimate photos of Sienna and him together, sprawled out in bed, looking far too close. My heart sank, my breath catching in my throat. The air between us felt suffocating, and I wasn’t sure what was worse: the images on his phone or the realization that Sienna had been lying this whole time.

The guy’s face twisted with rage. “What the hell?!” He shoved Sienna away from him and lunged at Isaias, throwing a punch. Rafa dodged it expertly, and before I knew it, he had countered, landing a punch to the guy’s jaw. The man crumpled to the ground, groaning in pain.

“I am the one who should be punching you!” Isaias shouted, his voice full of bitterness. “We were together before you even had her!”

I stood there, watching in disbelief, unable to move. Sienna rushed forward, her face pale as she knelt beside her boyfriend, checking on him. I could feel my legs shaking as Isaias grabbed my hand, pulling me away from the scene.

We walked in silence, the only sound being the quick steps of us moving away from the chaos. My mind was racing. Kaye had been lying to both of us, living a double life. And Isaias... he had been caught in the middle of it all. He was silent, his grip tight around my hand, but his body was rigid with anger. His eyes were dark, like a storm had settled in them.

He didn’t speak as we got into his car, and I didn’t either. I just watched him, stunned by everything that had happened in such a short time. Sieanna was a cheater, and Isaias—he was hurt, no matter how much he tried to mask it.

I could feel the tension in the air, thick with emotions neither of us knew how to process. He started the car, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. I didn’t want to say anything. What could I say? I wasn’t sure if I could even understand what was going through his mind right now.

As we drove, I kept glancing at him, trying to read his face. He was furious, but there was also something else in his eyes—betrayal, pain, confusion. He was seething, and I didn’t know if he was angry at Sienna or at himself, or both.

But one thing was for sure. I couldn’t just walk away from him. Not now. Not after everything that had happened.

It was late into the night, and Isaias and I were sitting on the couch in my living room, drinks scattered around us. The mood had shifted, and I couldn’t tell if the heartbreak in the air was because I was watching him spiral over how much he loved her or because he was finally discovering the truth about her betrayal. Neither felt any less painful.

We’d been laughing for hours, talking about the most random, silly things—old college memories, embarrassing moments from our childhoods, and ridiculous things we’d done. The kind of talk that was supposed to make you forget about everything for a while. But somewhere between a joke and another sip of wine, the atmosphere changed. Isaias’ expression shifted from carefree to something I couldn’t quite place. His eyes narrowed, and I felt the tension building.

“I’ve never confronted you about this, but why didn’t you just tell me that you found someone else? I know long-distance relationships can be hard, but—” He started, his voice quieter now, but before he could finish, I cut him off, completely confused.

“What did you just say?” I asked, my voice laced with confusion and suspicion.

“You cheated on me, and I hated you for that,” he said, his tone heavy, serious.

My heart skipped a beat. Betrayed him?

I stared at him, trying to process his words. Since when did I betray him?

“Was I not enough? Why does this always happen to me? Why do women always end up betraying me?” His words were slurred, and the alcohol was starting to take its toll on him. “Was I not attractive enough? Was I bad in bed? Tell me, what did I do wrong?”

I sat there in shock, not knowing how to respond. His face was a mix of frustration and hurt, but I had no idea where this was coming from. The last thing I wanted was to get into something so serious, so out of nowhere, especially after we had just been laughing moments ago.

“Isaias, I never cheated on you,” I said firmly, trying to keep my voice steady.

But he wasn’t listening. He gave me a cold, almost amused look, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, you did. Your best friend told me and even showed me pictures.”

The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. Best friend? What the fuck?

My hands started to shake, and a cold chill crept up my spine. What was he talking about? He pulled his phone out of his pocket, swiping through it until he opened a conversation on Messenger. He showed me the screen, and I froze. It was a conversation between him and someone I didn’t recognize at first. But as I looked closer, I saw pictures—pictures of me.

Wait... is that Sinclair?

I blinked in disbelief. The world around me seemed to slow down as I processed what he was showing me. My mind was reeling. Sinclair? My classmate? My friend? The guy who had been nothing but kind to me? And why was my ex-friend involved in this mess?

I burst out laughing—loud, unrestrained laughter. I couldn’t help it. It was so ridiculous, so far from the truth that all I could do was laugh.

Isaias stared at me, furious now. “What’s so funny?” His voice was tight with anger.

“Sinclair is gay!” I said between laughs. “You don’t know him. He’s just a classmate. And the other person? That’s an ex-friend of mine—someone who stabbed me in the back during our first year of college.” I shook my head, still trying to make sense of it all. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“Why would I? Someone who cheats always denies it,” he snapped.

My laughter died down, replaced by a cold, sinking feeling in my stomach. “So all this time, you thought I betrayed you? You’ve been holding onto this because of some made-up story from my old ex-friend?” My voice cracked as the weight of it all settled in. The idea that Rafa had suffered so much because of a lie made my blood boil.

“Wait—why didn’t you come to me sooner? Why didn’t you ask me about it?” I demanded, my anger rising now. “Instead of believing something that wasn’t even true?”

“I was too hurt to talk to you about it,” he muttered, still angry, but his voice was shaky now. “I thought you’d just lie and deny it, anyway.”

I could feel my hands trembling, but I fought to stay calm. “So all this time, you’ve been holding on to this lie?” I asked, my voice growing louder. “Isaias, I never did anything to hurt you. I never betrayed you, and now I’m sitting here, suffering because of some twisted story from someone who wasn’t even my friend anymore.”

I could feel the heat rising in my chest. My heart was racing, and my mind was spinning. All of a sudden, I was angry—not just at Isaias for misunderstanding everything, but at that ex-friend of mine. I swear, the next time I see her, I’m going to slap her.

2 years later..

“Thank you for agreeing to this, mom and dad,” I said, my voice thick with emotion as I hugged them tightly. Tears welled up in my eyes, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to truly feel the weight lifting off my chest.

I had been holding onto so much—guilt, fear, anger—and now, standing there in their embrace, I felt a sense of freedom I hadn’t experienced in so long. My parents held me just as tightly, their hands gently rubbing my back as if reassuring me that everything was going to be okay.

“You don’t have to thank us, sweetheart,” my mom whispered softly. “We want you to be happy. We just want what’s best for you.”

I sniffled, wiping away a tear. “I never thought this day would come... but I can finally breathe. I’m free now.”

My dad stepped back slightly, looking at me with a mix of concern and pride. “We’ve always been here for you, no matter what. You don’t have to carry all of this on your own.”

I nodded, my heart aching but also full of gratitude. I never realized how much I needed their support until now. All the years of carrying this burden—of pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t—had finally come to an end. I was free to move forward, and I knew that, with their love behind me, I could face whatever came next.

Isaias’ POV

“Please take care of our daughter, Asia,” her mother said softly, her voice filled with both trust and concern. I could see the love in her eyes as she looked at me, the weight of the moment heavy on all of us.

“I promise.” I said, my voice steady, though my heart was pounding in my chest. “I’ve learned so much these past few years—about myself, about love, and about how to be the partner she deserves.”

Her father nodded, his gaze intense but approving. “We know you care for her. Just... don’t let her go this time. She’s been through a lot, and we want her to be safe and happy.”

I nodded in return, feeling the depth of their concern. “I will. I’m ready to spend the rest of my life with her.”

As I said those words, everything else seemed to fade away. All the struggles, all the fears, all the uncertainty—all of it was behind me now. The woman I loved was standing beside me, and today, I was marrying her.

Again.

The next chapter of our journey was about to begin, and I was determined to give her all the love and happiness she deserved. It wasn’t just a promise—it was a vow. One I would keep forever.

Kai’s POV

“I love you, Kaisia Lim,” he whispered softly in my ear, his breath warm against my skin.

I was free from the pain that had held me hostage for so long. The tears that welled up in my eyes weren’t from sorrow anymore—they were from relief.

Free.