Chapter 1
The ink on the marriage certificate had dried three years ago, but to Samuel Belleza, it still felt like a fresh wound.
Standing in the kitchen of their pristine, minimalist penthouse, Samuel adjusted the cuffs of his apron. He was preparing Sinigang—Alzen’s favorite comfort food—though "comfort" was a word that rarely applied to their household. The steam from the pot fogged his glasses, momentarily hiding the world, a sensation Samuel often preferred.
He had loved Alzen Moleño since they were ten years old, back when the Moleño and Belleza families were just business rivals sharing a fence in a quiet suburb. While Alzen was out playing sports and breaking hearts, Samuel was the quiet boy in the library, tracing Alzen’s name in the margins of his notebooks.
When the families decided to merge their empires through marriage, Samuel felt like he had won a lottery he didn’t deserve. Alzen, however, felt like he had been handed a life sentence.
The front door clicked open. Samuel’s heart, traitorous as ever, skipped a beat.
"You're home early," Samuel said, stepping out of the kitchen with a practiced, gentle smile.
Alzen didn't look at him. He was busy unknotting his tie, his handsome face set in a mask of perpetual exhaustion. Alzen was striking—sharp jawline, eyes the color of obsidian, and a presence that demanded the air in the room.
"Meeting was canceled," Alzen replied shortly. He dropped his briefcase on the sofa. "I'm not hungry. Don't wait up."
Samuel’s smile didn't flicker, though his chest tightened. "I made the soup you like. Just a small bowl?"
Alzen finally turned, his gaze cold. "Samuel, I’m tired. I don't need a housewife; I need a quiet house. We’ve discussed this."
The "other person"—the ghost that lived in their marriage—didn't have a name Samuel was allowed to speak. He only knew that Alzen had someone else in his heart before the arrangement. A "villager" from a trip abroad, a free spirit Alzen claimed was his one true match.
"I understand," Samuel whispered.
He watched Alzen walk toward the master bedroom—the room they shared but where they never truly met. Samuel retreated to the kitchen. He sat at the small breakfast nook and ate the soup alone. It tasted like ash.
He looked at his phone. A notification popped up from his lawyer. Draft completed. Ready for your review.
Samuel stared at the words until they blurred. For years, he thought his love would be enough to fill the gaps in Alzen’s heart. He thought if he were kind enough, patient enough, and silent enough, Alzen would eventually see him.
But today, Samuel had realized something devastating: Alzen wasn't just missing someone else. He was actively resenting Samuel for being the person who was actually there.
I’m tired too, Alzen, Samuel thought, his fingers trembling as he tapped the notification. I'm tired of loving a statue.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, crumpled photograph from their wedding day. Samuel was beaming, looking at Alzen with stars in his eyes. Alzen was looking past the camera, searching for a ghost in the crowd.
Samuel placed the photo on the table and stood up. He didn't cry. He had no more tears left for a man who didn't want them. He walked to the guest room—the place he would start sleeping from tonight—and closed the door.
The silence in the penthouse was no longer peaceful. It was the sound of a countdown.
