Chapter 27

Thursday morning, Zaviya sat on the couch in her living room, tablet in hand. Alastair's face illuminated the screen, her warm smile making Zaviya's heart skip a beat despite the distance between them. The sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a soft glow on Zaviya's face, almost as if it were a reflection of the warmth that Alastair's presence always brought to her life.

"Hey, beautiful. How's my wife doing today?" Alastair's voice, though coming from a screen, felt as if it was right there beside Zaviya, comforting her.

Zaviya smirked playfully. "Missing you. Sweden's treating you well, huh? You look extra gorgeous with that winter backdrop."

Alastair chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Misis ko. The meetings are exhausting, though. I had to present twice yesterday, and both times I kept thinking, 'I wish Zaviya was here to make this more bearable.'"

Zaviya let out a soft laugh. "You know I'd be bored out of my mind during your presentations. I'd probably just stare at you and daydream."

"Exactly why I need you here," Alastair said, her voice dropping into a teasing tone. "Your daydreams make everything better. What about you? How's everything back home?"

Zaviya sighed, her smile faltering slightly. "The usual. Meetings, projects, the never-ending to-do list. But..."

Alastair leaned closer to the screen, her expression turning more serious. "But what, love? Is everything okay?"

Zaviya hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to express the nagging feeling that had been bothering her since the previous day. "I don't know. Something strange happened yesterday. I met someone... an old acquaintance, Olga. She asked me if we... if we remarried."

Alastair frowned slightly, her brows knitting together in concern. "Remarried? That's odd. Did she explain why she asked that?"

"No," Zaviya replied, shaking her head, though the unease in her chest hadn't gone away. "She just left in a hurry after that. It's been bugging me ever since."

"Hmm. That is strange," Alastair mused, her voice soft and reassuring. "But you know what? Don't let it worry you too much, okay? We'll figure it out together when I get back. For now, focus on being that amazing CEO that you are. I'll be home soon, and we can talk about it then."

Zaviya smiled faintly, her anxiety slightly eased by Alastair's comforting words. "You'll be back on Sunday night, right? I'm already counting down the days."

"I promise," Alastair said, her voice filled with sincerity. "I'm making sure everything's done on time. I miss you so much, Zav. I miss waking up beside you, the smell of your coffee, and you stealing all the blankets at night."

Zaviya giggled softly, a spark of playfulness returning to her. "I don't steal them; you just don't know how to share."

"Right," Alastair replied, her voice softening. "But seriously, it's been hard without you. The house feels empty."

"I know, love. Just a few more days. Let's plan something when I get back. I'll cook your favorite dinner, and we can have a movie night like old times," Alastair said, her tone full of promise.

Zaviya smiled, the thought of their time together giving her something to look forward to. "Deal. And then maybe a little dessert after?" she winked teasingly.

"Always, with you," Alastair laughed. "I love you, Misis ko."

"I love you more, Alastair," Zaviya replied, her voice tender. "Take care of yourself, okay? And text me whenever you're free."

"I will. And hey, don't forget to smile today, okay? I want you happy."

They exchanged one last look, both of them feeling the distance between them despite the warmth of their conversation. Zaviya set her tablet down, the conversation leaving her comforted but with a lingering unease that wouldn’t quite leave her mind.

She headed to the bathroom, turning on the shower. As the warm water cascaded over her body, her mind wandered back to her encounter with Olga the previous day. Olga's words echoed in her mind:

"Did you and Alastair remarry?"

Zaviya frowned, her hands scrubbing harder at her skin, as if she could wash away the confusion building up inside her.

"Why would she ask that?" Zaviya thought, the question swirling in her mind.

The water poured over her, but her thoughts remained clouded with confusion. It was as though the question Olga had posed was the key to something much bigger, something she couldn’t quite place. But then, as if summoned by her thoughts, her recent nightmares began to flash before her eyes. No longer were they merely dreams—they felt like memories, fragments of a story she couldn’t fully remember.

Each night, the same disturbing scene repeated itself: a pregnant woman, visibly distressed, arguing with someone whose face she couldn’t make out. The argument escalated, becoming heated, before the woman stormed out, driving recklessly through pouring rain. The sound of tires skidding followed by a sickening crash echoed in her mind, jolting her awake every time, breathless and teary-eyed.

"Who is she? Why can't I remember?" Zaviya wondered, her frustration mounting. The more she tried to piece it all together, the more the images and voices remained just out of reach, blurring into a fog she couldn’t cut through.

Stepping out of the shower, Zaviya wiped the fog from the mirror and stared at her reflection. Her brow furrowed in concentration, her face a mix of confusion and concern. She couldn't place these dreams, but they felt hauntingly real, like a story she once knew but had forgotten.

She dressed quickly, slipping into a sleek cream dress, though her mind remained occupied with the mysteries of the past and the day ahead. She arrived at her office, diving into a sea of back-to-back meetings, project proposals, and emails. But no matter how hard she tried to focus, Olga's words and her unsettling dreams clung to her like a shadow, refusing to let her escape.

"Focus, Zaviya. You have a lot to do today." She muttered to herself, though the unease lingered, refusing to be ignored.

As she works, her phone buzzes with a notification. It's a message from Alastair.

Text Message From Alastair: Hey love, just wanted to check in. How are you doing? I miss you. 😘

Zaviya's heart warms at the message. She quickly types a response.

Text Message From Zaviya: I miss you too. Just had a rough night with weird dreams. Can't wait to see you on Sunday. Take care my love. I love you. 😘

She hits send and goes back to her work, feeling a bit better knowing that Alastair is thinking of her.

Zaviya sat in the quiet of her penthouse, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside. The day had been long, the weight of her thoughts pressing heavily on her. But as her phone buzzed on the coffee table, a sense of anticipation washed over her. She picked it up and saw Alastair's name flashing on the screen. Alastair’s face appeared, tired yet smiling warmly, a soft glow in her eyes that never failed to bring a sense of peace to Zaviya’s heart.

"Hi, beautiful," Alastair’s voice came through, low and comforting, like a balm to the roughness of the day.

Zaviya smiled, feeling the familiar warmth in her chest. "Hi, love. I'm so glad to see you again. Haha, parang kaninang umaga magkausap lang tayo e."

Alastair chuckled softly, but there was a trace of longing in her tone. "I'm missing my wife big time. How was your day? Any more bad dreams?"

Zaviya’s smile faded slightly as her thoughts returned to the unsettling images that had haunted her mind throughout the day. She hesitated before answering, her voice quieter now. "Actually, yes. But talking to you makes everything better."

Alastair’s expression softened, concern etching her features. "Tell me about them. Maybe talking about it will help."

Zaviya took a breath, trying to push away the unease that had been gnawing at her. "It's always the same dream. A pregnant woman arguing, driving recklessly... it ends with an accident. I can't remember the details clearly, and it's driving me crazy."

Alastair’s brows furrowed, a hint of worry in her eyes. "That sounds really unsettling. But remember, it's just a dream. It doesn't mean anything will happen."

Zaviya nodded, but the doubt lingered, a nagging feeling she couldn’t shake. "I know, but it feels so real."

There was a pause before Alastair’s voice broke through, steady and soothing. "Just focus on the fact that I'm coming home soon. We'll talk more about it when I'm back. I'm sure everything will be okay."

Zaviya felt a wave of relief wash over her at Alastair’s words. It was as though the storm inside her had calmed, even just a little. She nodded, even though Alastair couldn’t see her. "Thanks, love. I can't wait to see you."

Alastair’s smile was warm, even through the phone. "Me too. Hang in there, okay? We're almost there."

They lingered on the line for a moment, the silence between them comfortable, filled with the unspoken connection they always seemed to have. Finally, after a few more exchanged words, Zaviya ended the call, her heart lighter than it had been all day.

With the comfort of Alastair’s support still lingering in her chest, Zaviya turned back to her work. The tension that had clouded her thoughts had cleared, and with renewed focus, she dove back into her tasks, the weight of her worries eased by the simple, but deep connection she shared with her wife. Alastair’s love had a way of making everything seem possible.

Later that afternoon, Zaviya found herself at a chic bistro with her friends. The clinking of coffee cups and the hum of conversation filled the air, but Zaviya seemed distant, lost in thoughts that were too heavy for the lively chatter around her. She absently stirred her drink, her mind somewhere far away. Her friends noticed her silence almost immediately.

Khali, always the perceptive one, nudged Zaviya, her voice full of concern. "Zavi, you've been zoning out. What's on your mind? Missing Alastair?"

Yevhen, who had a knack for reading Zaviya's moods, leaned forward with a teasing grin. "Yeah, when's she coming back from Sweden? We haven't seen you this quiet in ages."

Zaviya forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "She'll be back Sunday night. I'm okay, just... a lot on my mind."

Her friends exchanged curious looks, sensing that there was more beneath the surface. Zaviya hesitated for a moment, before she decided to share what had been bothering her.

"It's just... something strange happened yesterday," she finally confessed, her voice a little softer.

Reika, always the inquisitive one, raised an eyebrow. "Strange how?"

Zaviya hesitated, looking around at her friends, then took a deep breath. "Do any of you know Olga? I met her yesterday when my car wouldn’t start. She gave me a lift and... well, she asked me something strange."

"Olga?" Reika repeated, trying to place the name. "Can't say I've heard of her. Why? What did she say?"

Zaviya’s voice dropped to a whisper. "She asked if Alastair and I had remarried. I didn't get a chance to ask more because she got an urgent call and had to leave. But... the way she said it, like she knew something."

The table fell into silence as her friends exchanged puzzled glances. This was not a conversation they were used to hearing from Zaviya.

Oliana, ever the one to bring clarity to chaos, frowned. "Remarried? That's... bizarre. Did you ask her why?"

Zaviya shook her head. "I tried to, but before I could get any answers, she got a call and left. She didn’t explain anything. Just left me there with more questions."

Violet's brow furrowed in confusion. "That’s so odd. I don’t remember you ever mentioning Olga before."

Khali leaned back in her chair, thinking for a moment. "Maybe it’s just some kind of mix-up? Like, maybe she confused you with someone else?"

Zaviya shook her head, her frustration mounting. "No, she knew me. We met briefly in Thailand when Alastair and I were at the souvenir shop. It was clear she knew things about me and Alastair. But... some of the things she said, I don't remember at all."

Cass, always the one to get to the heart of things, looked concerned. "That's odd. If you don't remember remarrying, why would she ask that? And who is this woman, anyway?"

Oliana nodded in agreement. "Maybe she's mistaken? Or maybe she knows something you don’t. Have you talked to Alastair about it?"

Zaviya sighed, the weight of her thoughts pulling her down. "Yes, but she said we'll deal with it when she comes back. But it's been bothering me. And the dreams I’ve been having... I don’t know. I’m starting to think they’re connected."

Violet raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Dreams? What dreams?"

Zaviya hesitated for a moment, then shared the fragments of her dreams—the vivid images of a pregnant woman, the heated argument, the accident. The girls listened intently, their expressions growing more serious as the pieces started to fall into place.

Yevhen, ever the compassionate one, reached out and squeezed Zaviya’s hand. "Maybe there’s a connection between your dreams and what Olga said. Maybe your mind is trying to tell you something."

Reika nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, dreams can be weird like that. They bring up stuff from our subconscious, things we don’t even realize are there."

Khali's voice was gentle but firm. "But Zav, that’s intense. If it keeps happening, maybe you should talk to someone about these dreams. They sound like they’re trying to tell you something."

Cass agreed, her tone practical. "You should definitely try to talk to Olga again. Maybe she knows something that could help you understand what’s going on."

Oliana placed a comforting hand on Zaviya’s arm. "And if you need us, we’re here. We’ll help you figure this out, whatever it is."

Violet nodded with conviction. "Absolutely. You’re not alone in this, Zavi."

Zaviya nodded, feeling a flicker of comfort in the support of her friends, but the unease lingered. She couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever Olga knew, it had the potential to change everything. She needed answers, and she needed them soon.

As she sat there, sipping her coffee, Zaviya couldn't help but think to herself. I just hope Alastair comes back soon... and that Olga isn’t gone for good. I need to know the truth.

Her friends were right—she needed to find out who Olga really was and why she seemed to know so much about Zaviya and Alastair's past. As she mulled over everything, a sense of dread crept in. Whatever answers she found, she had a feeling they would change everything.

Later that night, the room is dimly lit by the moonlight streaming through the curtains. Zaviya lies in bed, tossing and turning. Her face is tense, her breathing rapid. Suddenly, she jolts awake, her eyes wide with panic.

"Not again..." she whispers to herself, trembling. "Why does it keep haunting me?"

She clutches her pillow tightly, trying to calm her racing heart. She glances at the clock beside her bed. It’s only 3:30 in the morning. The dream still lingers, vivid yet fragmented in her mind—a pregnant woman arguing with someone, driving recklessly in the rain, and then... an accident. She struggles to recall the faces and voices, but they remain frustratingly blurred.

"What does it mean? Why can't I remember their faces?" she mutters to herself, her voice filled with frustration.

Unable to shake the unease, Zaviya walks into the kitchen, her steps heavy and deliberate. The cold tiles beneath her feet feel foreign, and the dim light of the kitchen only makes everything feel more surreal. She flicks on the light and begins preparing a cup of coffee. Her movements are automatic, her mind too preoccupied with the unsettling dream to focus on much else.

"Bakit paulit-ulit ang panaginip ko na ‘to?" she murmurs, as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air.

As she waits for the coffee to brew, she stares into the empty mug, her thoughts adrift. After mixing her coffee, she steps into the garden, cradling the warm cup between her hands. The cool night air feels refreshing against her skin, and the soft rustle of leaves in the garden adds to the tranquility.

She sits on a bench, letting the stillness of the early morning envelop her, hoping to quiet the storm raging in her mind. The faint scent of flowers drifts through the air, but even the serenity of the night can’t bring peace to her thoughts.

"I should be happy. Alastair's coming back on Sunday…" she reflects quietly, as if the thought of her partner’s return should soothe her, but it doesn’t.

Zaviya takes a sip of her coffee, her gaze shifting toward the sky. Despite the peaceful surroundings, her mind continues to race, thoughts of her life with Alastair swirling through her head.

"Every moment with her feels magical... I wish it could last forever," she says softly, almost to herself, her voice tinged with longing.

The clock strikes 4:15 AM, and Zaviya sets her coffee mug aside. Her resolve hardens. It’s time to clear her head, to find a way to push the uncertainty away. She heads back inside, a plan beginning to form in her mind.

She enters the master bedroom and undresses quickly. The cool air of the room contrasts with the warmth of the shower as she steps under the stream, letting the water wash away the tension in her muscles. The sound of the water fills the room, its steady flow offering a brief respite from the chaos in her mind.

"A run will clear my mind," Zaviya mutters to herself, the thought of physical exertion providing a sense of control over her swirling emotions.

Dressed in her running attire, Zaviya ties her shoelaces in the grand entrance of their mansion. Her phone buzzes in her pocket, and she takes it out, snapping a few selfies. Her face, although tired, is bright with determination.

She sends the photos to Alastair, who is currently away on a business conference in Sweden, and her message is filled with warmth.

"Good morning, love! 🌞 Just getting my run in before the day starts. Wish you were here to join me. Miss you so much! Can't wait for you to be back on Sunday night. Love you! 💖"

She presses send and steps out of the house, greeted by their ever-friendly guard, Manong Ben.

"Good morning, ma'am Zaviya! Enjoy your run!"

"Good morning, Manong Ben! I will, thanks po!" she replies with a smile, waving goodbye as she heads off on her run.

The early morning mist still lingers in the village, and the quiet streets provide a peaceful backdrop for Zaviya’s steady pace. Her earphones are plugged in, blasting energetic music that helps drown out the persistent thoughts of the dream. She focuses on her breath, each stride clearing her mind a little more.

As the run continues, her thoughts drift to Alastair. The good times, the love they share—despite the recent unsettling dreams, she feels a renewed sense of clarity and purpose.

"I can’t wait for her to come home," Zaviya thinks, her heart swelling with affection. "We’ll face everything together."

As she finishes her run, Zaviya spots a familiar face ahead. Olga, also dressed in running gear, is jogging toward her. Their eyes meet, and they exchange surprised but warm smiles.

"Zaviya! Fancy meeting you here," Olga calls out, slowing her pace.

"Olga! What a coincidence," Zaviya replies, amused. "Are you running too? And you’re living in the same village as ours?"

Olga shrugs, a little sheepish. "Yes, I guess so, haha. Just trying to keep fit. Mind if I join you for a few laps?"

"Not at all. Let’s go!" Zaviya says, smiling as they begin to run together.

The two women chat amiably as they circle the village, the pace slow and easy. Eventually, they arrive at Zaviya and Alastair’s mansion.

"Wow, so you and Alastair are living here again?" Olga says, a hint of surprise in her voice. "This is quite a place. It’s so classy, typical Alastair."

Zaviya pauses mid-stride, confused by the tone in Olga's voice.

"Yes, we are. Why do you sound so surprised?" she asks, brow furrowed.

Olga hesitates, her expression unreadable. "Well, I... I just thought... Never mind. It’s nothing."

Zaviya stops and grabs Olga’s hand, her frustration and confusion evident on her face.

"Olga, tell me what’s going on. You clearly know something I don’t. You’ve mentioned something about us remarrying before, and now this... us living in this house. What’s going on?"

Olga looks concerned, her brows furrowing as she searches for the right words.

"If you really want to know," she says slowly, "come over to my house later. We can talk then. Here’s my address."

Olga hands Zaviya a small piece of paper with her address written on it.

"I’ve got to go now. See you later?" Olga adds quickly, before jogging off.

Before Zaviya can respond, Olga is already out of sight, leaving Zaviya standing there, bewildered. She calls after her, frustration mounting.

"Olga! Wait! What’s going on?"

But Olga doesn’t stop. Zaviya stands still for a moment, trying to piece together the cryptic encounter, feeling more confused than ever.

Zaviya entered the mansion, her mind swirling with the nagging thoughts that had been eating away at her ever since Olga’s cryptic message. She didn’t waste any time, heading straight for the bathroom to take a quick, refreshing shower. The water, as if to wash away the doubts clouding her mind, relaxed her for a moment. Once she was done, she slipped into a chic outfit—a simple pair of jeans paired with a white shirt that she knew would look effortlessly elegant.

As she finished adjusting her clothes, her phone buzzed with notifications, but she didn’t pay attention to them. Instead, her eyes focused on the call she had to make. With a sigh, she picked up her phone and dialed the number of her ever-reliable secretary, Jane.

“Jane, I need to reschedule all my meetings today,” Zaviya said, her voice calm but purposeful. “Something important has come up.”

“Understood, Ms. Zaviya. I’ll take care of it,” Jane replied without hesitation, her voice always professional.

Zaviya ended the call, her gaze lingering on the phone for a moment as if waiting for something—maybe an answer to the questions that gnawed at her. She grabbed her purse, checked the address Olga had given her, and made her way out of the mansion. It wasn’t too far to walk, and her mind needed the time to sort through the possibilities, the questions, and the looming uncertainty.

With every step she took, her thoughts were consumed by the worst-case scenarios. What if Alastair had a child with someone else? Or worse—what if she was already married to someone else? Could she have been hiding it all this time? The thought made her stomach twist uncomfortably. But then, her mind wandered to other questions—questions that didn’t necessarily concern her and Alastair. Could the things Olga knew be about someone else? Zaviya couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling that there were things about her past, things hidden away, that she still didn’t understand.

As she neared Olga’s house, a quaint and cozy residence nestled in a quieter part of the neighborhood, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. This was it—today, she would finally get some answers, whether she was ready for them or not.

She took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, her heart racing slightly as she waited. The door creaked open, and there stood Olga—surprised yet somehow relieved to see her.

“Zaviya!” Olga exclaimed, her eyes widening. “I wasn’t sure you’d come…”

Zaviya’s lips pressed into a thin line as she replied, her tone calm yet resolute. “I had to. You left me with so many questions.”

Without saying another word, Olga stepped aside to let Zaviya in. The moment Zaviya crossed the threshold, she felt a mix of emotions—curiosity, fear, anticipation—but one thing was clear: whatever happened now, it was time to face the truth.

“Come in,” Olga said softly, closing the door behind them. “Let’s talk.”

Zaviya stood in the middle of her room, utterly frozen, staring blankly at Olga. Her usually composed face was now pale, her eyes wide with shock, as if the words she'd just heard were too much to process. She could hardly make sense of the devastating news that Olga had just dropped on her, her mind racing in all directions. The weight of it was too much. She felt her knees buckle, and a wave of emotion rose within her chest, threatening to overtake her.

Tears spilled down her cheeks, uncontrollably, as she clutched her chest, trying to hold back the torrent of pain that surged within her. She had always prided herself on being strong, on keeping it all together. But now, in this moment, nothing felt right. It felt as though the ground had slipped from beneath her.

"I can't believe this..." Zaviya stammered, her voice trembling as she tried to process the reality of what was happening. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Olga's face contorted with regret, her expression filled with sorrow. "I wanted to, Zaviya," she whispered, her voice small, fragile. "But I... I didn't know how."

Zaviya shook her head, her mind reeling from the implications of Olga’s words. The truth had come at a time when she felt unprepared to face it, and it was unraveling everything she had thought she understood. Tears streamed down her face as her heart shattered, each beat a painful reminder of the weight of it all.

She backed away from Olga, her body trembling as the emotional overload became too much to bear. "I can't... I need to go," Zaviya whispered, her voice thick with pain, before she turned and almost stumbled toward the door.

Olga’s voice called after her, filled with worry. "Zaviya, I didn’t mean to—"

But Zaviya didn't stop. She opened the door hastily, stepping into the blinding afternoon sunlight, her heart pounding in her chest. The light stung her eyes, but she barely registered it. She wiped her tears away, but they just kept coming, a relentless cascade that mirrored the turmoil within her.

She began to walk, aimlessly, her mind spinning with thoughts she couldn't process. Every step felt heavier than the last, and her head throbbed with the pain of it all, as though her thoughts were too much to contain. As she moved through the streets, fragments of memories rushed past her—faces, conversations, moments of happiness, of laughter, of love, and, yes, of pain. They collided in her mind like shards of glass, making her feel dizzy, lost, and unmoored.

"Ano 'to... bakit ganito...?" Zaviya whispered, her voice barely audible as the reality of it all crashed down on her. "What did she just tell me? No, this can't be real... Why now? Why after all this time? It's too much... too much..."

She was choking on her own breath, her voice cracking as she tried to convince herself that none of it was true.

"Hindi totoo... Hindi ito pwedeng maging totoo..." Zaviya muttered under her breath, each word a desperate attempt to deny the crushing truth.

But even as she said the words, her body betrayed her. Panic gripped her heart, and her breath came in short, ragged gasps. "No... no, this can't be happening. Why now? Why me?"

Zaviya’s voice cracked again as she sank further into the emotional abyss. "How could this happen?"

She grabbed at her hair in a frenzied motion, her head shaking as if she could physically deny the reality of it all. Her tears flowed freely, each drop a testament to the pain she couldn’t escape. Life had always felt complicated, but this—this was a cruelty she hadn’t seen coming.

Leaning against the iron gate, she struggled to breathe, as if the air itself had become too thick to draw in. She felt as though she were suffocating, trapped in a maze of emotions she couldn’t escape. She was betrayed, cornered, utterly lost. Her world, which had once felt so controlled, had suddenly unraveled, leaving her adrift in a sea of confusion and grief.

Her vision blurred as the weight of the pain became too much to handle. She felt her knees give out, the ground rushing toward her, but just before she hit it, a pair of strong arms caught her. The shock of the embrace was almost enough to bring her back to reality.

"Irfan?" Zaviya's mind registered, but she barely had time to process it. She wasn't ready for him to be here, not like this, not now. The confusion in her thoughts seemed to scatter as her body went limp, her consciousness slipping away from her.

Irfan’s voice broke through the haze of her thoughts, urgent and full of concern. "Zaviya... Zaviya, can you hear me?"

But Zaviya’s head lolled against his shoulder as her body became heavier and her thoughts faded. She couldn’t stay awake any longer, the emotional exhaustion finally catching up with her.

Irfan shook her gently, his voice still frantic. "Zaviya, hey! Stay with me, please."

His arms tightened around her as he lifted her effortlessly, his athletic frame moving quickly but carefully. Despite the circumstances, there was a protective tenderness in the way he cradled her. Irfan’s sharp features were soft with concern as he brushed strands of hair from Zaviya’s face, his brow furrowed with worry.

"Irfan... What happened? Ano bang nangyayari sa'yo?" he muttered under his breath, his tone laced with fear.

Zaviya was unresponsive, her face pale, her eyes tightly shut, each breath shallow and unsteady. Irfan didn’t hesitate. He scooped her into his arms and hurried to his car, his mind racing as he drove to the nearest clinic, knowing the urgency of the situation.

The car ride felt endless, but finally, they arrived at the clinic. Irfan rushed in, Zaviya’s limp body still in his arms. He was met by the frantic staff, who quickly took over and placed Zaviya on a bed. Irfan stepped back, his hands running through his hair, a deep anxiety settling in his chest.

The nurse, a woman with a calm and steady demeanor, turned to him as she assessed the situation. "Sir, you did well to bring her in immediately. She just needs rest. It seems like she's under a lot of stress."

Irfan nodded absently, his gaze never leaving Zaviya as she lay unconscious, her body pale and still. He could only hope that the rest she needed would be enough to help her face whatever storm was brewing in her heart.

A few hours later, Zaviya slowly regained consciousness, her eyes fluttering open to the sight of Irfan sitting beside her. His expression was a mixture of relief and hesitation, his usual confidence replaced with a gentle uncertainty as if unsure of what to say.

"Hey... okay ka lang ba? Naalala mo na ba kung ano nangyari?" Irfan's voice was soft, almost tentative, as though he were afraid of startling her back into unconsciousness.

Zaviya sat up slowly, her hand instinctively reaching for her head. The headache had lessened, but there was an emotional weight pressing down on her chest. She looked at Irfan, her mind a haze as she struggled to gather her thoughts.

"Irfan... what happened?" Her voice came out quieter than she'd intended, almost ashamed.

Irfan let out a sigh of relief, though his expression remained serious. "You fainted outside someone's house. I was passing by and saw that you were about to collapse. Luckily, I caught you before you hit the ground. I couldn't just leave you there."

Zaviya blinked, her mind working to piece together the scattered fragments of the last few hours. The knowledge that Irfan had been there, catching her in her moment of weakness, settled heavily in her chest. Her emotions were a tangled mess, each thought fighting to break free, but she couldn't bring herself to make sense of any of it.

"Thank you for catching me... but please, don't tell anyone about this. I don't want anyone to know," she whispered, her voice trembling, even as her pride wanted to push the entire incident away.

Irfan’s face tightened with a mix of understanding and sadness. He nodded, his tone steady as he spoke. "Alright, I won't tell anyone. But, Zaviya, you need to take care of yourself. Whatever’s going on... you don’t have to go through it alone."

Before she could respond, a nurse entered, carrying a glass of water and some medicine. She handed them to Zaviya, urging her to take the pills for her headache. Zaviya’s gaze dropped, her thoughts too overwhelming to deal with, but she nodded silently and took the medicine. She didn’t have the energy to speak.

After a while, the nurse returned with papers in hand, ready to discharge her.

"Miss Porsild, you're free to go, but please rest and take care of yourself. The stress isn't good for you," the nurse said kindly, offering a soft smile.

Irfan, who had been quietly observing, asked if he could take her home. Zaviya, still too weak to protest, simply nodded. She stood shakily, feeling as though the world around her was pressing in. Irfan supported her gently as they walked out of the clinic, the setting sun casting a golden light on the village, the sky painted with hues of orange and pink. Zaviya felt a strange mixture of exhaustion and relief.

The drive home was silent. Zaviya stared out of the window, her mind drifting between moments that no longer made sense. Memories, snippets of conversations, fragments of emotions all began to collide in her mind. But she wasn’t ready to face them—not now, not yet.

Irfan, though concerned, respected her need for quiet. He stole a glance at her every now and then, but otherwise said nothing, keeping the air between them still, too thick with unspoken words to be broken.

When they reached her house, Irfan pulled up in front of the gate. “Zaviya, we’re here,” he said quietly.

Zaviya nodded without a word, feeling like she was walking in a fog. She opened the door and paused for a moment, as though something inside her wanted to speak, to express the gratitude, the confusion, the feelings that were all tangled inside. But she couldn’t. Instead, she just sighed.

"Thank you for today, Irfan. I... I didn’t expect you to be the one to catch me when I fell," she said softly, her voice wavering.

Irfan smiled faintly, a mixture of nostalgia and something deeper in his eyes. "I’ll always be there if you need me, Zaviya. Take care of yourself. And remember, you’re not alone."

Zaviya swallowed the lump in her throat. She met his eyes, her own filled with gratitude, though laced with sadness. "I’m sorry for everything... and thank you for still being here."

Irfan’s smile softened, and for a moment, Zaviya thought she saw something in his eyes—a longing, perhaps, or an echo of a past that never really went away. "Always, Zaviya. You know that. You know where to find me if you need anything. Again, take care of yourself, alright?"

Zaviya nodded and waved a quiet goodbye. Irfan did the same, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he turned and drove off. Zaviya stood at the gate, watching him leave, feeling a strange emptiness settle inside her. When she turned to walk toward the front door, the guard greeted her, and she gave him a brief nod before continuing on her way.

Inside the house, Zaviya made her way to the master bedroom. She felt like a shell of herself, empty and hollow as she collapsed onto the couch, finally allowing herself to break down. The pillow she grabbed felt like the only comfort she could hold onto as the tears started to fall. She buried her face in it, allowing the sobs to take over. The tears she had held back in the clinic returned in full force, uncontrollable and desperate.

"What am I supposed to do now?" she whispered to herself, the question hanging in the air, unanswered.

The sobs continued, louder now, echoing in the empty room as the weight of everything—the truth about Olga, the fragments of memories, the painful distance from Irfan, and the crushing loneliness—crashed over her. She couldn't make sense of any of it. She couldn’t escape the hurt, the betrayal, the secrets that seemed to be closing in on her.

"I just... I don’t know what to do..." she whispered again, through her tears.

Her body trembled as she sank further into despair. She sat on the edge of their king-sized bed, staring at the neatly made side that used to be Alastair's, untouched and painfully distant. The shadows from the dim lighting in the room seemed to stretch across the walls, mirroring the darkness in her heart.

Zaviya hugged her knees to her chest, letting the tears fall freely. The room felt suffocating, the air thick with the weight of all the things she couldn't share. She grabbed a pillow and held it tightly, pretending that it could shield her from the reality of the truth. But no matter how hard she squeezed, it didn’t stop the ache in her chest. Nothing could.

Her phone sat untouched on the nightstand, and after a long hesitation, she reached for it. Scrolling through her contacts, her thumb hovered over Alastair's name. But the thought of calling her, of admitting the vulnerability she was feeling, seemed impossible. She couldn’t bring herself to let Alastair see her this broken. Not now, not after everything.

With a frustrated sigh, Zaviya tossed the phone away, watching it bounce off the bed, the anger and confusion overwhelming her.

"I can’t trust anyone... not even her. This can’t be happening," she muttered to herself, almost as if the words could somehow change reality.

She stood up abruptly and began pacing the room, her hands wringing together nervously. The revelation from Olga still echoed in her mind, too heavy to bear, and yet she felt she had no one to share it with. She glanced at the clock—11:47 PM. Hours had passed, but her mind was still stuck in that moment, still reeling from the shock.

She collapsed back onto the bed, curling into a fetal position, the weight of it all pulling her under. The tears flowed even harder now, her sobs raw and desperate. She pulled the blankets over herself, as if they could protect her from everything that had happened, everything that was now out of her control.

"I thought I knew... I thought I could trust... but now, I don’t know anything," she whispered between sobs.

The room, once a safe haven, now felt like a prison, every shadow a reminder of the betrayal and confusion that consumed her. Her voice trembled with the pain she couldn’t suppress.

"I thought I knew... but I don’t," she whispered again, her body shaking with sobs that filled the empty room.

The minutes stretched into hours, but Zaviya knew sleep would never come tonight. All she could do was wait for the morning, hoping it would bring clarity, or at least the strength to face whatever came next. The darkness outside mirrored the turmoil in her heart, and in that silence, she felt truly alone.

---------------------------------Taaaaaaddddaaaaaaaaa update tayo. 🤘😘

Enjoy reading guys. Thanks for waiting for the updates. Comment yout thoughts 💭

#ABF 26