The boardroom smelled like polished wood and overpriced cologne.
A long table, twelve men, two women, all in suits na parang sinukat sa ego nila. And at the head of it all—Calix. Leaning back, arms crossed, like he owned the place. Which, technically, he did.
I sat beside him, expression blank, legs crossed under my tailored cream pantsuit. Prada heels. Chanel silence.
"Moving forward with the PR rollout," one of the execs said, "your visibility as a couple is crucial. Your last presscon went viral. Even international media picked it up."
"Good," I said flatly. "Let's feed the illusion while the market's hungry."
Laughter.
I wasn't joking.
Calix glanced at me, amused. "Aurora means we're aligned. We'll show up when needed. Smile when needed."
I tilted my head. "Kiss when needed, babe."
A few gasped.
Someone choked on coffee. One old man actually clapped.
I smiled sweetly, like i wasn't dead inside.
After the meeting, Calix walked me to the elevator. For optics. For show. For the vultures watching through glass.
"You're not coming to the shoot later?" he asked.
"Nope. May sarili akong buhay."
He nodded, like he didn't care.
But i knew him too well.
His jaw ticked—barely. Just enough.
Hindi na ako nag-effort magpaliwanag. I didn't owe anyone anything, least of all him. My head was pounding from the fluorescent lighting and the stale tension that had built up during that boardroom ambush.
Breathe, Aurora. Just breathe.
My phone buzzed.
3:30PM – Dressage Training – Equestrian Park.
From: Louis
Perfect. I had just enough time to change. Not because i wanted to impress anyone, but because training was the only place i could still breathe without needing permission.
And besides, I thought as u pressed the elevator button for the basement, I look good when i'm pissed.
-
The air was clearer here. Less talk, more grit. Ang layo sa BGC boardroom kung saan puro branding, marketing, expansion—puro business speak na parang hindi ako tao, kundi project.
Here, no one cared if i was Aurora Zobel.
The supposed It Girl.
The one who "threw it all away."
Coach Inigo greeted me with his usual monotone.
"Late ka."
"Don't start," I mumbled, shrugging off my blazer. Suot ko na sa loob ang sports bra and jodhpurs, so konting ayos lang, ready to ride.
He caught the blazer mid-air as I tossed it to the bench. "Dressage tayo today. You're rusty."
I gave him a flat look. "I'm not rusty. I'm busy."
He tilted his head. "Sige. Let's see kung mas busy ka kaysa kay Solstice."
Challenge accepted.
He walked away toward the stable, and moments later, Solstice emerged—all sleek black fury and attitude. Hanoverian. High-blood. High-maintenance. High-speed. He snorted like he could smell my anxiety from meters away.
"Don't start with me either," I muttered under my breath as i mounted him. He resisted for a second before giving in.
Smart boy.
The first few minutes were rough.
My legs tensed, my heels refused to drop, and Solstice kept flicking his tail like he was judging my posture.
Which he probably was.
Shoulder-in.
Half-pass.
Transitions.
Piaffe.
Passage.
Coach barked commands while sipping his damn iced Americano like this was just another Tuesday.
I was sweating within ten minutes, but i didn't stop. Not once.
Not even when my mind kept drifting.
To Calix.
To that stupid woman in his condo.
To the way his eyes lingered yesterday like he still had a right to be affected.
Get out of my head.
"Aurora!" Coach shouted. "Eyes up. Focus!"
Snap.
Solstice faltered beneath me.
I cursed under my breath and corrected my posture, breath ragged.
"Again," I said.
And this time, I meant it.
My arms were noodles. My thighs felt like cement. Pawis na pawis ako and my hair clung to my nape like second skin.
But God, I felt alive.
Coach Inigo didn't go easy on me today. Good. I didn't want easy. I wanted to burn.
I needed to burn.
After the final cool-down lap, I hopped off and led Solstice back to the stable myself. Wala nang groom. Wala nang yayamaning arte.
Just me, my horse, and the sound of leather reins against calloused palms.
I unbuckled his bridle and gently patted his neck.
"You're the only man i trust," I whispered.
He snorted and bumped my shoulder with his nose.
"Not now," I chuckled. "I'm already bruised."
-
I wasn't supposed to go out.
But my car drove itself to BGC, like it had a mind of its own. Or maybe, deep down, I just wanted silence that didn't echo back my own name.
My heels struck the pavement like declarations.
Four inches of authority, slicing through noise, neon, and night.
I chose the darkest booth.
Far from the windows.
Far from the noise.
Low light.
No company.
One glass of neat scotch. No ice.
I didn't want it diluted. I wanted it sharp. Wanted it to bite.
My lipstick was blood red, not cherry.
My dress was black, tailored to precision. Long sleeves. High neckline. Covered everywhere but whispered power with every move.
Not sexy.
Not sweet.
Just dangerous.
I lifted the glass to my lips. One sip.
The burn traced down my throat like memory. Or maybe muscle memory. I couldn't tell anymore.
I stared at the drink, watching the amber shift and catch light. My face reflected in it looked... calm.
Always calm.
Then—
a sound.
A laugh.
Not mine. Never mine.
I didn't move. I didn't react.
But my eyes shifted. Once. Sharp. Like a flick of a blade.
Calix Montemayor.
Of course.
Wearing arrogance like cologne. Navy blue shirt. Sleeves rolled. That same smug look that made people want to either kiss him or slap him. Usually both.
He was lounging with a woman.
No—a girl.
Red silk. Cheap perfume. Too much teeth.
Her laugh sliced through the bar again. Loud. Empty. Eager.
I blinked slowly.
Turned back to my drink.
Took another sip.
I didn't care.
Not even close.
They all thought i would.
Calix let her lean into him.
Let her touch his chest like she belonged there.
Like any of this meant something.
How… elementary.
I raised my hand and gestured for the bartender.
"Another," I said, tone flat.
"Same drink?" he asked, politely.
"Same mistake," I replied.
He gave a weak chuckle. I didn't.
My phone buzzed.
Louis [8:22PM]
U okay?
Me:
Define okay.
Louis:
…Noted.
At least Louis understood not to push.
My eyes drifted back to the VIP area. Calix was offering the girl a drink now. Whispering something close to her ear. She looked like she might melt.
I watched in silence.
Not out of emotion.
Out of principle.
He always played the part.
Always made a scene.
He wanted to be watched.
Applauded.
Admired.
I never signed up to be part of his stage.
A man approached me. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Mid-30s. Confident enough to assume he could interrupt me.
"Mind if i sit?" he asked.
I didn't blink. "I mind."
He gave a half-smile. "Got it."
He left. Good. I didn't like repeating myself.
I finished my drink in one slow pull.
Placed the glass down like a final decision.
Then stood.
Quietly.
Calmly.
No drama.
No flounce.
No spectacle.
Just a woman leaving.
As i passed the VIP section, I didn't even glance toward him. Didn't need to. I already knew what i'd find.
More of the same.
And if he did see me—really see me—it wouldn't matter.
I wasn't the girl who got hurt.
Wasn't the wife who cried.
Wasn't the woman left wondering why.
I was Aurora Montemayor.
In name only.
And i never needed anyone to miss me.
Because absence isn't the point.
Oblivion is.
And that's where i'm taking him.