94

The week following the joint birthday party had been pure mayhem. Every entertainment outlet, talk show, and social media influencer was still buzzing over the performances. Clips of Rafaella performing "Folded" and kissing Lea were everywhere — dissected, meme'd, idolized.

But inside the De Torre villa, things had quieted down again.

For the first time in months, the family found themselves together for breakfast — just the four of them: Rafael, Lea, Ellie, and Liam.

It was Sunday morning. Sunlight filtered through the lace curtains of the dining room, painting the tablecloth with soft gold. The sound of plates clinking and coffee being poured was the only noise until Liam spoke up mid-bite of his pancake.

"Papa," he started, brows furrowed in deep thought. "Are you... famous again?"

Rafael paused mid-sip of his coffee, lowering the mug. "Define 'again,'" he said, suspiciously calm.

Ellie snorted, choking on her orange juice. "He's been famous since before you were born, Liam."

Lea tried to hide her laughter behind a napkin. "Your papa's trending again because of the birthday show."

Liam blinked. "You mean Rafaella?"

Rafael set his mug down and rubbed his temple. "I can't believe my child knows that name."

"You went viral, Papa," Liam said matter-of-factly. "Even my friends sent me clips. They said my papa was the prettiest woman they've ever seen."

Lea laughed so hard she nearly cried. Rafael groaned, leaning back on his chair. "I'm never living this down, am I?"

"Nope," Ellie said brightly. "Rafaella's here to stay."

Lea reached over, brushing his arm. "Well, she did good."

By early afternoon, Celeste and Alfonso De Torre arrived unannounced — as they always did after any family scandal, celebration, or chaos. Celeste swept into the villa wearing oversized sunglasses and pearls, her energy impossible to contain.

"Where's my daughter-in-law?" she called out dramatically from the foyer.

Lea came out of the lounge, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. "Good afternoon, Ma."

"Don't you 'Ma' me," Celeste teased. "You didn't tell me your husband was going to outshine Beyoncé!"

Rafael appeared from the hallway, visibly mortified. "Mama, please—"

Celeste grinned like a cat that caught the canary. "I always said you'd be a performer like your wife someday. I just didn't realize it'd involve heels."

Lea lost it. She leaned into Rafael's shoulder, laughing uncontrollably. Alfonso, on the other hand, looked proud.

"I saw the videos," Alfonso said, sipping the tea Neri handed him. "Good control. You didn't miss a beat."

"Thank you, Papa," Rafael said weakly, unsure if that was supposed to be praise.

Liam ran into the room at that moment, holding up a printed meme. "Papa, look! They put you next to Beyoncé!"

Rafael buried his face in his hands.

Later that evening, while Rafael was in his study, his phone buzzed with a video call. It was Boy Abunda.

"Boy," Rafael sighed, answering. "If this is about another interview—"

"Relax!" Boy laughed. "Not another interview. Just checking in. Kris and I are still recovering from your performances."

Rafael smiled faintly. "Tell her she's not getting me on her talk show again."

"Too late," Boy grinned. "She's already planning a Pride Month Special featuring you and the Divas."

"I'm straight," Rafael deadpanned.

Boy's grin widened. "You're an icon, and that's more powerful."

Before Rafael could respond, Lea's voice rang out in the background: "Boy! Tell him he's not straight anymore, he's versatile!"

Boy burst out laughing so hard that Rafael hung up.

That night, after dinner, they sat by the veranda. The crickets outside hummed as Lea leaned against Rafael's shoulder.

"You know," she said softly, "you've done a lot of wild things in your life. But that? That topped everything."

He looked at her, a smile playing at his lips. "You didn't hate it?"

Lea shook her head, eyes gleaming. "I adored it. Every bit. Because you didn't just perform — you showed the world how love can look like anything. A CEO in heels. A husband in sequins. You made it... beautiful."

He turned to face her fully, taking her hand. "You're the reason I can be all those things."

Lea's lips curved into a smile. "I'm not sure whether to thank you or blame myself."

Rafael chuckled, pulling her closer. "Thank yourself. Because without you, there's no me. Not this version."

She rested her forehead against his. "Then I'll keep loving every version that comes."

Before turning in for the night, Lea lingered by their window, staring at the stars. Rafael came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"You're thinking again," he murmured.

"Always," she whispered. "You've given me a life I never thought I'd have."

He smiled, kissing her temple. "And you gave me something I never thought I deserved."

"What's that?" she asked.

"Peace," he said. "Even when the world spins out of control, you make it feel like home."

Lea turned, cupping his face. "Then promise me one thing, Rafael."

"Anything."

"No matter what headlines, scandals, or performances come next — come home to me every time."

He smiled, eyes soft. "Always. Even if I'm wearing heels."

Lea laughed, leaning up to kiss him. "Then Rafaella can stay — but only if I get to pick her next costume."

"Deal," he said, pulling her close again.

And somewhere between laughter and quiet devotion, the De Torres — a family made of music, chaos, and love — found another moment of stillness that the world could never touch.