Amarra's POV
I woke up the next morning feeling more rested than I had in years. It was as if the weight of everything I’d been carrying had finally lifted, even if just a little. The bed was soft, the room quiet and warm, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a sense of peace. It was strange, almost foreign, like this was my first taste of what it meant to live life on my own terms—not because Mamang demanded it, but because I chose it.
As I stretched in the cozy bed, I marveled at the newfound sense of peace that filled the room. The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow that made the space feel even more tranquil. It was a welcome change from the constant tension and suffocation I’d felt back home.
I reached for the phone to call the hotel staff. I requested breakfast in bed, wanting to prolong the comfort of the soft sheets and the cocoon of warmth. Not long after, there was a gentle knock on the door, and a staff member entered, bringing in a tray laden with a beautifully arranged breakfast. There was a steaming cup of coffee, fresh fruit, warm pastries, and a small bouquet of flowers on the side. The hospitality was impeccable, a stark contrast to the chaos and control I had left behind.
As I sat in bed, savoring each bite of my breakfast, I realized I was still wearing the same casual clothes from yesterday—a nightgown, of all things. I chuckled to myself, realizing how out of place I must have looked to the staff, but it didn’t matter. For the first time, I wasn’t worried about appearances or what others might think. I was just... me.
As I ate, I began to plan my day. I would need to buy clothes and other essentials since I hadn’t brought anything with me. I had left in such a rush that I hadn’t even considered what I might need for an extended stay. But now, with a clear mind, I could start thinking ahead. I was planning to stay here for a while, away from the suffocating grip of my family and everything they represented.
The thought of exploring the city, of wandering through shops and picking out things for myself, brought a small smile to my lips. It felt like a new beginning, a fresh start where I could finally be in control of my own life. For once, I didn’t feel rushed or pressured. I had all the time in the world, and it felt good—better than I could have imagined. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I had the freedom to decide what I wanted, without anyone else’s influence. This was my chance to start fresh, to figure out who I was and what I truly wanted. And I wasn’t going to waste it.
After finishing my breakfast, I decided to check my phone. I had been avoiding it, but I knew I needed to handle a few things. I quickly sent a message to Hazel, instructing her to take care of my business while I was away. Her previous messages were numerous, likely filled with questions and updates, but I didn't bother reading them. I simply told her she was in charge for the time being, then shut off my phone as it started ringing again. Wayne’s name flashed across the screen, and I noticed he had called over 500 times. My heart clenched momentarily, but I forced myself to ignore it. My family—parents included—had also tried to reach me, but I was done. I wasn’t going to be sucked back into that suffocating world, not today.
“I guess it’s time to leave,” I muttered to myself as I stood up, brushing away any lingering doubts.
I called the hotel staff, and when a young woman arrived, I made a gentle request for her to buy me some clothes. It was a bit of an imposition, I knew, but I had no other option. To my relief, she didn’t hesitate and returned shortly with a selection of warm, stylish Canadian attire. I thanked her profusely, slipping her a generous tip as a sign of my appreciation. She smiled gratefully, the kindness in her eyes making me feel a little less alone in this foreign land.
I took the clothes to the bathroom, turning on the shower to let the steam fill the room. The hot water was like a balm, washing away the remnants of stress and worry clinging to my skin. For those few moments, I let myself relax completely, the water’s warmth soothing my tense muscles and my tangled thoughts. After my bath, I dried off and dressed in the clothes she had bought—a cozy sweater, jeans, and a thick coat. They were simple, practical, and perfect for the chilly Canadian weather.
Stepping outside the bathroom, I felt more grounded, more in control. I took one last look around the hotel room, making sure I had everything before heading out the door. The city awaited me, a place where I could finally breathe and perhaps begin to find myself again.
As I walked out of the hotel room, the crisp air hit my face, invigorating me. I had no particular destination in mind, but that didn’t matter. I was free, and for the first time in what felt like forever, that freedom didn’t terrify me—it thrilled me.
Kaelan's POV
“Have you found her yet?” Mamang’s voice cracked with worry as she paced the room, her fingers trembling as she bit her nails. She was the formidable head of this family, a woman whose love and affection for Amarra had always been intense—perhaps too intense. Seeing her now, so fraught with anxiety, made my heart ache. It was hard to witness someone so strong unraveling.
“Not yet, Mang,” I replied, watching her pace back and forth like a caged animal. She hadn’t slept much, if at all. Her usual commanding presence was replaced by a desperate fragility that was almost unbearable to see.
“Oh no, where could she have gone?” she muttered to herself, her voice thick with fear.
“I’ll keep trying to locate her, Mang. I promise,” I reassured her, though my own frustration was mounting. Where could Amarra have possibly gone? Why was she making this so difficult?
Before I could get another word out, Isabella stormed into the room, her face flushed with anger. “Wow, the ‘ex’ is trying so hard to find my sister. Don’t you have any shame, Kaelan? Or did you ever plan on telling me the truth? Do I look like a fool to you?”
Isabella’s words stung, and I could see the betrayal in her eyes. She already knew Amarra was my ex, but I wasn’t sure what her sister, Seraphina, had told her. Everything had spiraled out of control so quickly, and I hadn’t had a moment to explain anything properly.
“I wasn’t trying to fool you, Isabella,” I began, my voice low and pleading. “You knew I had an ex before we started dating. I was trying to move on, to forget about her…”
“Yes, you told me that,” she snapped, cutting me off. “But you never mentioned it was with my sister! Do you know how foolish I feel? I even asked you to help her, to take her to her room, without knowing anything! Was it fun for you, Kaelan? Was it fun to fool me like this?”
Her words were laced with pain and anger, and I could see her struggling to hold back tears. I felt a deep sense of guilt tightening around my chest.
“I… I’m sorry, Isabella,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I was shocked too when I realized you and Amarra were sisters. I thought she was an only child. I had no idea, and when I found out… I didn’t have the courage to tell you. I was scared, and I know that was wrong.”
Isabella scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You lost the courage? That’s your excuse? You’ve been lying to me this whole time, Kaelan. And now, you’re out here, desperately trying to find her. Do you still have feelings for her?”
Her question cut through the air like a blade, sharp and unforgiving. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. The weight of the question bore down on me, and the silence that followed was suffocating. I felt trapped, unable to escape the truth that was rapidly closing in on me. The truth was, I didn’t know what I felt anymore. All I knew was that I needed to find Amarra—before it was too late, for everyone’s sake.
Isabella’s eyes narrowed, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. “Now what? You can’t even answer a simple question? You’re pathetic, Kaelan.” Her voice, once filled with affection, was now laced with bitterness, each word a stab to my already bruised conscience.
I could only stare at her, my mind a blank slate. I wanted to speak, to offer some kind of explanation, but everything I tried to say got tangled in the web of lies and half-truths I had spun. My throat felt tight, and the room seemed to close in on me, every second of silence adding to the mounting tension.
And then, I noticed Mamang. She had stopped pacing, her body frozen mid-step as if she had suddenly been turned to stone. Slowly, she turned to face me, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. The color drained from her face, and her usually strong and commanding presence seemed to wither in front of me.
“Amarra… was your ex?” she whispered, the words barely escaping her lips. The strength she usually exuded had vanished, replaced by a shaky uncertainty that was entirely foreign to me. Her hands trembled slightly, and for the first time, I saw the formidable Mamang looking vulnerable, fragile even.
The realization seemed to hit her like a tidal wave, crashing down with an unforgiving force. Her shoulders slumped, and her eyes darted between Isabella and me, as if searching for some sign that this was all just a terrible mistake, a nightmare she would soon wake up from. But the cold, hard truth hung heavy in the air, and there was no escaping it.
Mamang’s reaction mirrored Isabella’s, but it was laced with a different kind of pain—a deeper, more personal wound. For her, this wasn’t just about a betrayal of trust; it was about Amarra, the niece she had fiercely protected and favored above all others. The one she had poured so much of herself into, only to discover this tangled web of lies and hidden truths.
The room grew colder, the air thick with tension as Mamang struggled to process this new reality. Her gaze, which had once been so easy to meet, was now hard and piercing. I could see the storm of emotions swirling behind her eyes—anger, confusion, fear. She was trying to reconcile how this could have happened under her watch, how she could have missed something so significant.
The silence that followed was oppressive, the weight of the truth pressing down on all of us. I could see the pain and disbelief etched into Mamang’s features, a stark contrast to the strong, unyielding woman she had always been. In that moment, I realized just how much my actions had shattered the fragile equilibrium of this family.