Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

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Thailand? Again?

Iceland? Cute but nah.

Japan? Can be considered.

Amsterdam? For tulips, sure.

“Yangyang, kailan ka ba mag-aasawa?” Aiah’s aunt asked while slicing fruits at the long dining table.

Aiah only laughed at the question. Honestly, she didn’t know the answer either. Her mind kept drifting back to that one adorable drunk woman from that night. 

The woman had clung to her while rambling about her sad and controlled life, cheeks flushed red, words slow and messy, yet her eyes carried a sadness that Aiah couldn’t forget.

“Kami ba eh may aabutan pang apo sa’yo?” her father asked. “Hindi sa pinipressure ka namin anak ha? Tumatanda na rin kami. Gusto ko man lang masilayan na may makakasama ka sa pagtanda mo.”

Aiah simply listened, letting the words pass through one ear and out the other. She was already used to conversations like this. Instead of thinking about marriage, she was busy searching for another side quest or new trails to book for the next few weeks.

Her brand business was doing well. She was earning more than enough and had saved a lot over the years. She had all the time in the world to travel, try new things, chase adventures, and live freely without anyone holding her back.

No marriage.

No children.

“Saan nanaman ang punta mo?” one cousin asked after noticing how focused she was on her screen.

Aiah only smiled at them.

The huge old traditional house remained loud from every corner. Children were running around the living room while older relatives laughed together near the terrace. Some of her aunts stayed busy in the kitchen, filling the entire house with noise and warmth. 

Most of their family had chosen to live together under one roof, including Aiah herself. She’d rather live in a crowded home full of voices than stay alone in an empty house with nobody to come home to.

She had no reason to slow down.

She had no reason at all to settle down.

Initially, that’s what Aiah thought.

For some reason, every person she dated always ended things with the same excuse.

“This won’t work. I want someone I can settle down with.”

That was always the line.

Honestly, it sounded cliché to her at this point. Aiah could give them that kind of life if she truly wanted to. She had the money, the stability, and the freedom to build a future with someone. The problem was that liking them never felt enough for her to jump into a lifetime beside them.

She liked dating her exes. 

She genuinely did.

Still, deep inside, she never really saw a future waiting for both of them at the end of the road. She tried to force herself to see it.

God, she wanted to.

She wanted to settle down too. She wanted to experience the quiet comfort of loving someone for years and waking up beside the same person every morning. Yet no matter how hard she tried, that feeling never stayed long enough inside her chest.

Maybe it was obvious. Maybe her former partners saw it long before she did.

Aiah was restless, carefree, and sometimes reckless without meaning to be.

Sometimes she forgot she had someone waiting for her replies and updates.

Sometimes an entire day would pass before she remembered she was supposed to call and check on them.

Sometimes she simply wasn’t interested in intimacy at all. Not even a little.

At first, she would feel excited. She was interested and curious about someone new. Then the moment things started becoming serious, something inside her slowly pulled away.

Without realizing it, she would create distance.

She’d grow colder and quieter.

Harder to reach.

Little by little, she would push people away until they finally reached their limit and walked out of her life first. Yet despite all of that, Aiah still wanted marriage. She wanted a life she could finally pause for and enjoy without constantly searching for the next adventure.

The slow seconds of sunsets.

The soft glow of sunrise spilling across the bed.

The quiet intimacy of shared breaths between kisses.

Aiah wanted all of it. She just didn’t know how to hold onto it. She didn’t know if she was even meant to have it in this lifetime.

Part of her believed love like that was only for hopeless romantics. It was for people brave enough to run after one person and choose them over and over again without fear.

It was for people lucky enough to find someone capable of slowing their world down. 

Or maybe even stopping it completely.

But then for the first time…

Aiah’s world slowed down. 

No, it literally stopped. 

The moment she saw her again, everything did. It was true in the strangest, most magical way possible.

She couldn’t move. She flinched slightly at the closeness, at the sheer failure of her mind to process that this woman was standing right in front of her now, moving, breathing. 

Heavily breathing, if she was being honest. 

Aiah couldn’t believe what her eyes were showing her at that moment. All she could do was breathe, slow and steady, as she quietly tried to pull herself back, not wanting to assume anything, not wanting to reach for something that wasn’t hers to hold. But then the woman who’d lived inside her head for months spoke.

“Hello,” she started, still catching her breath, not bothering to wipe the small beads of sweat gathered on her forehead. 

Aiah swore to God she wanted to reach into her pocket, pull out her handkerchief, and wipe it herself.

She didn’t. 

She couldn’t.

Moving anything unnecessary felt like it would shatter something, break the edges of a dream too beautiful to survive contact with the real world.

“Hi…?” Aiah answered, and the nervousness running through her veins bled into that single syllable. She could only hope the cracks weren’t showing on her face.

The woman stood there, still. She stared at her, holding her gaze with a quiet certainty, like she was always meant to do that. Like she was destined to own it.

Memories of drunken nights rushed into Aiah’s mind without permission. Her brain replayed every moment, every scene from that reckless night, and it did it right here, in the middle of a crowded airport, with this woman standing inches away. She couldn’t stop it. She didn’t get a say in any of it.

This woman.

“I…uhmm.” 

A small pause. 

A breath. 

“My name is Mikha Lim.” 

The shakiness in her voice gave away everything she tried to hold together.

“Mikha Lim,” Aiah repeated.

It wasn’t supposed to come out loud. 

She was only supposed to say it in her head.

Oh, God.

She wasn’t sure how she looked right now, whether the nervousness was written all over her face, whether any of it was showing. Her gayness, God forbid, was having a full little panic inside her chest at how good looking the woman standing in front of her was. She was trying her best to keep it together.

Panginoon, sobrang ganda.

“Do I know you? Do you need something?” 

That was all Aiah managed to ask. She didn’t know what else to say. She had no idea if Mikha still remembered her, or if she remembered that night.

Then she noticed it. 

The way Mikha went still, stunned into silence. The tips of her ears turning red. Her fingers fidgeting slightly at her sides. All of it, every small telling detail, Aiah found completely adorable.

What a cutie!

Mikha swallowed. “Oh, yes. I’m actually…” She paused.

Aiah waited.

Come on, pretty girl. Tell me what you need.

Her thoughts were already spiraling. Her nerves refused to settle. She just wanted to know what this woman wanted, what she came all the way over here to say.

“The thing is, I, uhmm…”

Mikha paused again. Her voice was slightly shaky as she swallowed, like she was fighting to keep herself from sounding crazy, like she was searching for the right words and coming up empty.

It will be okay. I’m listening. What is it?

That was what lived inside Aiah’s head. She wanted Mikha to know that her ears belonged to her at that moment. That she would listen. That she was listening.

“I… uhh…”

Mikha paused again, her fingers fidgeting without her seeming to notice. Her eyes were caught somewhere between panic and shame, like there were simply no proper words for what she was trying to say.

It’s okay. I’m here. Tell me.

That was what Aiah thought.

What she said was something else entirely.

“Look, I have a flight to catch. I really don’t have time for this right now.”

The words left her mouth and she regretted them the moment they landed. What a contradiction!

Why did I say that?

Aiah took a preparatory step to the side, committing to the words she already regretted. She’d have a full conversation with herself about it later, she knew that much.

“Wait! Wait!”

She stopped.

It was the desperation in Mikha’s voice that did it, raw and unfiltered, like she wanted Aiah’s time more than anything else. Like she wanted Aiah more than the time.

“Wait, no.”

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn't a performance. It was the kind of genuine desperation that sat far beneath the surface of everything shallow, the kind that couldn’t be faked.

Call me by my name and I’ll stop the world.

“Maraiah, please.”

There it was.

Her name, rolling off Mikha’s lips, carried by that voice, framed by that face. Aiah’s head snapped back on its own, her eyes finding Mikha’s without a second thought. The moment her pupils met those brown eyes, something in her chest went completely quiet. 

Her world stopped.

Actually stopped. 

Something she hadn’t believed was possible until it was already happening.

“How do you know my name?” she asked, her gaze steady, locked onto Mikha’s.

Tell me you know me. 

Tell me you remembered me.

Aiah watched as Mikha straightened her back and composed herself, like she was steadying her footing before saying something that could upend everything.

“I’m actually your wife.”

Oh.

Aiah’s heartbeat grew louder with every millisecond that passed. She had no idea what to say to that. Not that she didn’t know who Mikha was. She knew exactly who she was. She remembered their shared night in LA, the paper they signed, the mock wedding that she hadn’t believed for a single second would be anything real, or anything official.

So the only thing her body knew how to do at that moment was to laugh.

She really laughed. 

A full, genuine laugh that rang out into the airport around them, like she’d just heard the funniest thing on earth, because honestly, it was. 

She didn’t slow down for anyone. She’d never planned on settling down. She wasn’t built for it, or so she told herself. Yet here was this impossibly beautiful woman standing in front of her, completely serious, claiming to be her wife.

She must be so lucky.

She must be truly blessed.

What surprised her, though, was Mikha’s reaction. She wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t flustered or shrinking back. She was just watching Aiah with eyes that were difficult to read, sitting somewhere between fondness and quiet amusement. 

Aiah tried to pull herself together, pressing her fingers to the corners of her eyes to catch the tears that had snuck out from laughing.

It wasn’t really funny, not truly. It was absurd in the gentlest possible way. The woman who hadn’t left her mind for a single day since that night in LA was standing here now, completely sober, in the middle of a crowded airport, introducing herself as… hers.

Her wife.

Aiah’s heart did something strange at that, a stumble, a loud unsteady thud that she felt in her throat. “That’s a good one,” she said, using it as cover, needing something to hide behind. “In that case, I’m Aphrodite,” she added, still trying to hold herself together despite the noise her chest was making.

Then she caught it. The way Mikha’s ears went red. The soft flush that crept across her cheeks at the comparison, like she wanted to argue against it but couldn’t quite bring herself to. Like some part of her refused to deny it entirely.

“No, I’m serious.” Mikha’s voice came back firmer, though her cheeks kept betraying her. “We’re actually married. It’s real. We got married last April. April 1st, in LA.”

She was rambling now, the words tumbling out faster, her cheeks growing redder with every sentence. Aiah kept her expression still, holding back the smile that was pressing hard against the inside of her face. She couldn’t let it through. She couldn’t let Mikha see how absolutely adorable she found all of this.

“I know I may sound crazy, but I’m not. It really happened and I have documentation to prove everything.”

Good God, she’s too cute. I could kiss her right now just to shut her up.

“Can you remember? Do you remember anything at all?”

Aiah didn’t interrupt. She just listened, watching every small thing Mikha did without meaning to. The way she stuttered. The way her teeth caught her lower lip when she was searching for the right words. The way her hands moved restlessly at her sides, like they were part of how she told the truth, like her whole body was in on it.

I remember it all. Do you?

Do you remember how you called me?

Mikha was still trying to piece together the memories of that night, still puzzling through the fragments of their accidental marriage. Though could it really be called accidental when, for Aiah, it felt like something delivered to her, something meant to find her, right here in this busy airport?

Aiah composed herself quickly. “Aiah,” she said.

Mikha blinked. Her eyes widened just slightly. “Hmm?” She tilted her head, and Aiah swore to God, that alone was adorable.

She was starting to think everything Mikha did was adorable. Every small, unguarded thing. She couldn’t help but want to witness more of it.

“Just call me Aiah…” she said, letting the next words land with full intention. “Misis ko.”

She said it clearly and deliberately. She watched Mikha’s face for the reaction, waiting for it the way you wait for something you already know is coming but still wants to see. 

That endearment. 

The same one Mikha had used that night, the very reason Aiah couldn’t shake her loose from her memory no matter how hard she tried. Maybe she’d been longing to hear it again all this time. Only she didn’t want it from anyone else. 

Only Mikha.

The flush that swept across Mikha’s face was immediate, like every wall she’d been holding up came down all at once. Her composure scattered. Then she was rambling again.

“This is serious, Aiah. Whatever’s happening between us right now, we need to fix it. There are things we need to talk about, things that can’t wait.”

Good Heavens. Just give me one chance and I’ll shut her up with my mouth.

Instinct won.

Aiah found herself leaning down, closing the distance, bringing herself level with Mikha’s eyes. The closeness nearly undid her all over again. Mikha’s face at this distance was almost too much to look at directly.

Everything wasn’t just slowing down anymore. 

It had stopped completely.

“Bakit, Misis ko?” she murmured, the tease already curling at the edges of her voice. “Nabuntis ba kita?”

She only wanted to see Mikha come undone a little more.

The words landed and Mikha stepped back like she’d been lightly pushed, ears red, cheeks flushed, neck following right after. She swallowed once before the words came rushing out.

“What? No! That’s not even… that’s ridiculous, you can’t just… that’s not how any of this… You’re insane.”

Mababaliw talaga sa’yo, Mikha Lim.

Aiah straightened up. Not for Mikha, but for herself, mostly to put a little distance between her own composure and the pull she felt toward the woman standing in front of her. She was deeply, helplessly entertained by every reaction Mikha gave her.

Then the airline called her flight over the intercom, her details cutting clean through the noise of the airport.

Perfect timing.

Playing it cool, even though her knees were quietly giving out beneath her and her heart was screaming at a volume she hoped didn’t reach her face, Aiah rolled her shoulders back and gripped her luggage handle. Her eyes didn’t leave Mikha’s.

“Look, whatever you need from me could be talked about via email or text or FaceTime. We can even do a sleep-on-call if you miss me that much.” 

She let that sit for just a beat. 

“I’m pretty sure you already have my contacts since you managed to hunt me down in a crowded airport.”

She picked up her bag, her eyes sparkling with something she wasn’t trying to hide, not fully. Still, she held herself together, acting all cool, praying she was pulling it off.

“But right now, I really do have a flight to catch,” she said, flashing one last dazzling grin at Mikha, whose eyes held something Aiah couldn’t quite name, something she filed away to think about later.

“Goodbye, Misis ko.” 

A pause, warm and deliberate. 

“See you when you want to see me.”

Then, just to leave her with something to think about, Aiah blew her a playful kiss, light and easy, just enough to watch the color rush back into Mikha’s cheeks. She turned and walked away, holding onto that last one percent of composure with everything she had.

When she was sure Mikha couldn’t see her anymore, she stopped walking. She let out a slow breath and steadied herself. Then she glanced back once, quickly, just a flicker, before turning forward again and continuing on her way. With a smile on her lips she didn’t bother hiding. She couldn’t, even if she wanted to.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Inside the plane, Aiah made a quick call.

“Hello, Pa?” 

She waited, listening for the line to settle. 

When she was sure it had gone through, that her father was on the other end waiting, she pulled in a slow breath and let it out quietly.

“Hello? Yang? May problema ba? Okay ka lang ba?” Her father’s voice came back fast, already laced with worry.

“Okay lang po ako, Pa.” 

Simple and steady.

Okay na okay po ako.

A pause stretched between them. 

Aiah didn’t wait for it to fill itself.

“Pa, ibinibenta po ’yung magandang bahay na itinayo kailan lang sa loob ng subdivision po, diba?” 

She already knew where she was going with it, the next words already lined up.

“Oo… bakit?” 

She could sense it even through the phone, the way her father went still on the other end, whatever he’d been doing back home in Cebu suddenly forgotten.

“Magpapatulong po sana ako na makuha ’yung bahay,” she said, calm and certain. 

She was pretty sure her father already understood exactly what that meant.

“Bakit ka bibili ng bahay? Anong nangyayari? Bakit mo gustong makuha bigla ‘yung bahay? Ha, Yang? Mag-aasawa ka na ba?” 

The questions came one after another without pause, her father’s voice climbing over the noise already gathering in the background, children playing somewhere in the house, a dog barking at something it probably shouldn’t.

“May asawa na po.”

She said it quietly and clearly to herself with a smile on her lips, into the noise of it all. She was fairly sure her beloved father didn’t catch it, failed to hear it, and was swallowed whole by the commotion at home.

Then the flight attendant’s voice came over the cabin, warm and practiced, reminding all passengers to switch their devices to airplane mode in preparation for departure.

“Sige na po, Pa. I’ll hang up na po.” Her voice was easy, unhurried. “Please help me po na makuha ko ‘yung bahay ah. I’ll pay po agad-agad.”

She ended the call without waiting for a response.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Aiah couldn’t help the smile. She didn’t even know what there was to smile about as she switched her devices to airplane mode.

Maybe she was crazy. 

The feeling swirling inside her stomach was almost too much to sit with, and she caught herself pressing her fingertips to her lips, her cheeks aching from holding the same expression for too long.

Then something pulled at her memory.

She went through her call logs and found it, that unfamiliar number that had been calling her persistently earlier, over and over without an answer.

It was Mikha’s number.

Before she could think twice about it, before better judgment could catch up with the part of her that was already moving, Aiah saved a contact name to that number.

Misis ko ❤️

She stared at it. That smile wasn’t going anywhere, she knew that much. She bit the inside of her cheek, caught her lower lip between her teeth, and even tried to talk herself down from looking like she’d completely lost it.

Maybe she had.

Maybe she’d really, truly lost it.

She turned toward the window as she powered off her phone, and her mind drifted on its own, all the way back to that night in LA, back to their encounter, something that had felt like a dream the whole time it was happening. 

A very beautiful dream. 

The kind you try to hold onto in the first few seconds of waking up, knowing it’s already slipping.

Mikha’s existence felt like that. Like the gods had taken something between a dream and a reality, folded them together, and decided, without asking, that Aiah was the one meant to receive it.

That Aiah was meant to be with someone as glorifying and prayer-worthy as Mikha.

That as the days passed, Aiah couldn’t help but think about that divine beauty who’d come running through the airport just to chase her down, unbothered by the sweat on her skin, unbothered by the crowd of strangers watching her like she was a spectacle, and that alone, just that single reckless and breathless image, was already more than enough to completely undo every last wall Aiah had ever built around herself.

That even on her vacation days, chasing tides and catching flights and pretending she was a woman with her life together, her mind couldn’t stop circling back to the wife she still couldn’t fully believe was hers.

But sometimes, like today, Aiah found herself staring at Mikha’s phone number like the world’s most hopeless and self-aware idiot. 

She couldn’t stop smiling. 

She couldn’t stop the nervous flutter either, that ridiculous, traitorous thing that stirred in her chest every single time her finger drifted too close to the call button.

She couldn’t do it.

She never could.

Every time her finger hovered a little too long, her heart would throw itself into a full somersault, and she’d end up doing the only sensible thing available to her, which was turning off her phone entirely and saving herself from the embarrassment of being the woman who called her own wife first like she was the one with the bigger feelings.

“Good God, pa’no ba ’to…”

She muttered it to the ceiling, phone held flat over her face as she lay there stewing in her own feelings. She was almost certain she’d turned it off. 

Almost.

Then she heard it. The soft, unmistakable sound of an outgoing dial.

Her whole body went still.

She pulled the phone away slowly, the way someone might look at a wound they weren’t ready to see, and there on the screen in the most painfully earnest little letters were the words that finished her completely.

Calling Misis ko ❤️…

Aiah shot upright like she’d been electrocuted. Her fingers fumbled, slipped, fumbled again, and she ended the call with the graceless desperation of someone trying to stuff a secret back into a box it had already escaped from.

“Sobrang engot mo naman, bading…” she whispered to herself, tugging gently at her own hair, heart slamming against her ribs at a pace she was fairly sure wasn’t medically advisable.

She didn’t move. She just sat there, eyes glued to the screen, waiting for it to light up, dreading that it would, and dying a little because it didn’t. 

No reply. No message. No anything. 

Just silence dressed up as mercy.

“Baka isipin niya crush ko siya,” she muttered, already holding the phone again without fully deciding to, already staring at those same digits like they owed her an explanation.

Then her thoughts drifted, helpless as they always were, back to Mikha’s face. 

That sweaty forehead. 

Those foxy, warm brown eyes. 

Those lips, slightly parted, still catching her breath after running across an entire airport just to reach her.

“Hindi ko siya crush…” she told herself, and her voice was soft, careful, like she was tiptoeing up to something fragile and enormous all at once.

She let the words land slowly, the way the truest things always did.

“Mahal ko na yata.”

Just that. 

Just those four words spoken quietly to no one, to the blank glow of her phone screen, to the memory of a woman who’d introduced herself as her wife and somehow, somewhere between then and now, had made Aiah believe it.

“Si OA…” Aiah muttered to herself, already dialing Mikha’s number again. She wasn’t waiting for an answer. 

That was what she told herself, anyway. She was just being annoying. That was all. Just a little harmless, deliberate nuisance, the kind that required no vulnerability and left no evidence of longing. 

She’d never let Mikha see her like this. 

She’d never let anyone see her unravel over something as small and devastating as a single look from a pair of foxy brown eyes. Her pride as a gay woman had a reputation to uphold, and that reputation did not include this.

So she dialed again. Third time.

Then a fourth, a little faster now.

A fifth, and she was smiling before she even ended it.

A sixth, this time letting it ring exactly once before her thumb hit the red button like she was playing a game she’d invented specifically to lose. 

By the eighth call she’d given up pretending she had a plan, and she was already opening their messages instead, fingers moving before her brain had the chance to file any objections.

Hello, Misis ko.

She hit send and immediately wanted to lie face down on the floor. She was a fool. A complete, unambiguous, golden retriever of a fool, and the only thing keeping her from full-on grinning was the very deliberate act of pouting and biting the inside of her cheek.

Is this your number?

Or not?

As if she didn’t know. As if Mikha’s name wasn’t already sitting right there in her contacts, saved with a label so soft and sweet it was practically a confession all on its own. But then, she kept going anyway.

Hi.

Do you not miss me?

I thought you were going to miss me.

After you ran like that, you don’t miss me? Ouch.

Patawarin nawa siya ng Panginoon sa kabadingan niya. 

God forgive Aiah entirely for becoming the kind of person who sent messages like these, messages she’d never once sent to anyone before, not even the ones she’d actually tried to love. 

There was no response coming, and she knew that, but she didn’t stop. She was too busy picturing Mikha’s face on the other end. 

Probably rolling her eyes. 

Probably fighting a smile and losing. 

Or possibly, terrifyingly, not even looking at the phone at all, and that last thought barely had time to settle before Aiah was already typing again, nudging it away with another round of cheerful, ridiculous nonsense.

Are you busy, Misis ko?

Nambababae ka ’no? Hmp!

She sent them like she had every right to, like they were already the kind of people who talked this way, and the warmth that spread through her chest when she imagined it, actually imagined it being real, was almost too much to sit with.

Answer my call, please?

Let’s talk?

Those last two came out quieter somehow, a little softer at the edges. Less joke, more question. Less performance, more the real thing. Because underneath all the playful foolishness there was something she hadn’t said out loud yet, something that sounded a lot like wanting to figure out if this was going somewhere, if they were going somewhere, if there was even a “they” to speak of at all.

Maybe yes.

Maybe not.

She set the phone down and let out a long, slow breath, already making peace with the silence. No reply. No callback. That was fine. That was completely, totally, absolutely fine, and she’d decided that gracefully.

Except it pinched just a little, right in the center of her chest, quiet and persistent, the way only the truest things ever did.

She wasn’t expecting an answer. She’d already made peace with that, had accepted it with the quiet resignation of a woman running on low battery, and so she tapped the call button for the ninth time that hour with all the energy of someone pressing a crosswalk button they didn’t believe in anymore. She was still staring lazily at the dialing screen when the call connected.

When Mikha answered.

Every single nerve in Aiah’s body snapped awake at once, and she nearly left her own body entirely. She didn’t even know how the speaker got turned on. She didn’t remember doing it. She didn’t remember doing anything except suddenly being very, very alive.

“Hello?”

Mikha’s voice came through the speaker and went straight through Aiah like something warm and irreversible. It was raspy and low and entirely too much for the day, and Aiah couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t locate a single coherent word in the entire wreckage of her brain.

“Hello?”

Hesos ko po, Panginoon!

She wanted to respond. She genuinely, desperately wanted to respond. But it was like her tongue had packed its bags and left without notice, like her voice had simply dissolved somewhere between her chest and her mouth and refused to reconstitute itself. 

The embarrassing truth of it was that Mikha’s voice alone, just the sound of it coming through a phone speaker, was enough to completely short-circuit everything Aiah had ever known about herself. It was funny, in the way that only mortifying things are funny when they’re happening to you.

Then Mikha just ended the call.

The silence that followed had weight to it. 

Aiah sat with it for exactly one second before she grabbed her phone back and held it like it had wronged her personally. Her heart was still running its own private marathon. Her fingers were moving before she’d given them permission.

Ang sexy pala ng boses ng Misis ko sa phone call.

She stared at what she’d typed.

That was her thinking out loud. That was her brain leaking directly onto a keyboard with absolutely no filter between them, the kind of message she’d look back on later and use as evidence against herself. 

She knew she shouldn’t send it. 

She knew exactly what she was doing and she knew it was unhinged and she would never send it anyway because apparently that was who she was now.

Then the knock hit her door like a gunshot and she launched her phone clean off the floor.

“Yang?” Her father’s voice came through just before the door opened.

“Po?” Aiah answered, heart still sprinting, phone still somewhere on the floor, the picture of a woman with absolutely everything under control.

“Dumating na ‘yung deliveries mo ng mga furnitures doon sa bahay mo. Kailangan ka yata nila doon,” he said, firm and unbothered by whatever was clearly happening in this room.

“Sige po, Pa. Susunod na po ako.”

He nodded once and pulled the door shut behind him, and Aiah dropped immediately to the floor to retrieve her phone. It wasn’t broken. Her bones, on the other hand, had come very close.

She turned the screen over and saw it. 

The message was sent. 

Not just sent but read, the little confirmation sitting there beneath her words like a tiny, gleeful witness to her own destruction. 

Aiah brought her fingertips to her mouth and bit down softly, the embarrassment arriving in a full, hot wave she had absolutely nowhere to put.

Mikha had seen it.

Mikha had read it.

And now Aiah had to live in a world where that was simply a thing that had happened.

It was never a simple thing. 

It never had been.

She couldn’t stop herself from turning it over in her mind, wondering what Mikha’s face looked like in the exact moment she read those words. Whether she laughed. Whether she rolled her eyes. Whether she read it twice.

The days that followed kept Aiah busy enough on the surface. There was work, and the new house with its half-arranged furniture and rooms that still smelled like fresh paint, and there were flights to places beautiful enough to steal the breath from anyone’s lungs. But her mind wasn’t really in any of those places. Her mind kept drifting back to one person with a warm, foxy gaze and a voice that had no business being that low over the phone.

The strange and slightly terrifying thing was that she wasn’t even desperate for a reply anymore. 

Mikha had read the message. 

That single fact had settled into Aiah’s chest like something warm and slightly ridiculous, and it was enough. It was more than enough. She hadn’t prepared herself for anything beyond that, hadn’t thought to, and so when the day came that Mikha actually answered her call again, Aiah was caught completely off guard in the best and worst possible way.

“Hello?” Mikha’s voice came through the line, calm and composed and devastating.

Aiah’s grin arrived before she could stop it. The butterflies in her stomach threw a small, chaotic celebration.

“Hello?” Mikha asked again, her tone climbing just slightly higher.

Then came a sharp exhale through the speaker, the kind that belonged to a woman whose patience was beginning to show its edges, and somehow that made Aiah smile even wider.

“Look, if you aren’t going to say anything, I’m just going to hang up.”

Clearly irritated. Perfectly composed about being irritated. Adorable about all of it.

Crazy, right?

But what happened next was crazier. Mikha turned on the camera, flipping the call into a video, and suddenly there she was on Aiah’s screen in full corporate attire, going about whatever important thing she’d been doing before Aiah decided to make her afternoon difficult.

Aiah didn’t say a word. She just watched, because what else could she do, what else would any reasonable person do, faced with something that was simultaneously one of the coolest and most quietly devastating things she’d ever seen in her life.

So she played it cool.

That was her strategy and she was committing to it fully. She bantered. She kept her voice light and her expression unbothered and she let nothing slip, not even once, and she was honestly pretty proud of herself. But the best part, the part she’d replay later when she was alone again, wasn’t how well she was holding it together. 

It was Mikha’s reactions. 

Those soft, traitorous blushes. The subtle roll of her eyes that she clearly didn’t intend to be endearing and absolutely was. The way she’d bite her lower lip or swallow quietly like she was trying to keep something in.

Aiah found herself quietly praying to whoever might be listening to please, please give her enough composure when they finally met in person. Because they would meet. She knew that the way she knew most things she wasn’t ready to say out loud yet.

They would.

They had to.

Then, without ceremony, without any of the slow-burn buildup the moment probably deserved, that imperfectly perfect time arrived.

Aiah arrived thirty minutes early.

She’d told herself it was practical, the kind of thing a composed woman did. She hadn’t told herself, or rather she’d refused to examine too closely, that she’d spent the morning in front of her mirror doing endless checks, smoothing things that didn't need it, and second-guessing fine choices. 

When she’d told Mikha she had to go during their call, it wasn’t because she had somewhere to be. It was because she’d felt herself starting to come apart at the seams, and hanging up was the last responsible thing she could do.

She liked the feeling though. That was the strange part. She liked that Mikha did this to her, and liked that it was new and terrifying.

It was funny in the way only the most inconvenient truths ever were. So she found a hidden corner, sat down, and watched the door.

When Mikha walked in, Aiah’s breath caught without her permission.

It was pathetic and comedic, but completely part of the plan. The plan was to look like she’d just arrived, like she hadn’t been trying to calm her nerves for half an hour with limited success. The plan was to look effortless, not like a woman whose hands were trembling under the table.

She stood up anyway. Sweaty palms, loud heartbeat, the whole disaster of it, and she walked toward Mikha like she was moving toward something bright and entirely worth whatever came next. Then the words landed quietly.

“No. We need to end this. We should separate.”

Aiah had turned them over in her mind before during restless hours. She’d prepared for this, or at least she’d told herself she had.

“What if… ayoko?” she asked, keeping her voice easy and her face exactly where she needed it to be. “What if I want to be your wife?”

She held Mikha’s gaze and meant every word. Something in that eye contact felt like standing at the edge of something enormous, but she wasn’t prepared for what came next.

“Aiah, listen to me. I have a girlfriend.”

It was delivered carefully, like Mikha was placing the words down one at a time. It was kind in the way only honest, painful things could be.

Oh.

Aiah reached across the table and picked up Mikha's glass of water, buying herself exactly enough seconds to pull her composure back together. She took a slow sip, kept her face neutral, and told herself she was absolutely fine.

“So?”

She said it simply, like it was a minor clarification and not something currently rearranging her insides.

“She’s just your girlfriend. I’m your wife.”

The words tumbled out before she could stop them. She couldn't take them back now, so she decided her only option was to double down and keep playing it cool. Inside her head, though, a siren was wailing.

She sounded desperate. 

She sounded pathetic.

Her mind drifted to the house she’d recently bought, a place she was slowly turning into a home specifically for Mikha. She remembered the pure joy she’d felt choosing the right furniture, the perfect layout, and the exact shades of paint for a space that was almost complete. 

Now, as her daydreams of sharing that house with Mikha turned to dust, Aiah could feel her heart breaking into tiny pieces, right behind her brightest, fakest smile.

Absolutely nobody in the whole world could have prepared Aiah for the exact moment her hopeful dreams crashed violently into the reality Mikha was building with someone else. 

She had spent weeks imagining a beautiful future together, letting her thoughts wander to sweet, domestic daydreams, but now she was forced to stare directly at the crushing present.

She had never once pictured the agonizing pain of watching Mikha being held by another person, or seeing someone else touch her skin with such casual, easy familiarity. 

Witnessing it clear as day felt like a physical stab to the chest, leaving her completely breathless in the middle of the crowded room.

Still, Aiah forced herself to lock away her agony and play it cool. She refused to let even a tiny flicker of her heartbreak slip through for them to see. She wasn't going to lose her composure here, she wasn't going to lose it today, and she definitely wasn't going to lose it in front of Sophia.

"Thank you so much for coming. I'm Atty. Sophia Elizabeth Laforteza, the girlfriend."

Sophia held out her hand with a tight, practiced smile that didn't reach her eyes. Her tone wasn't casual at all, dripping with a sharp, possessive edge that Aiah instantly disliked. 

Summoning every single ounce of grace, confidence, and petty energy left in her system, Aiah reached out and gripped the woman's hand firmly.

"Nice to finally meet the girlfriend. I'm Maraiah Queen Arceta… the wife."

Aiah hadn't planned to brag or flaunt her legal title when she walked into the room tonight. Sophia's hostile attitude simply made her a tempting target, a predatory presence that Aiah felt absolutely compelled to challenge. 

More than that, Mikha looked incredibly anxious. She kept flinching at her own girlfriend's loud, overbearing presence, and that sudden wave of helplessness deeply bothered Aiah.

Mikha was constantly fidgeting with her fingers, shaking her leg under the table, and biting her lower lip until it was almost white. 

None of this nervous behavior looked normal to Aiah's eyes, especially for a couple who'd been together for nearly a decade and were supposedly planning to settle down. 

It felt like this entire future had been mapped out by Sophia without a single word of input from Mikha. The relationship didn't look like a romance, it looked like a terrifying, heavy burden to the very woman Aiah wanted to cherish, comfort, and protect from the world.

Sophia spoke condescendingly about Mikha's career choices, treating her like a prize possession rather than a human being who could make her own choices. 

Aiah felt the silent challenge hanging in the air and struck back without a moment of hesitation.

"That's lovely, but I’d let Mikha Lim do whatever she actually wants with her life. I'd happily provide for my wife so she never has to work a day in her life if she doesn't want to."

Sophia squinted, her dark eyes turning ice cold as she stared across the table. "What exactly do you want from all this?"

Aiah kept her expression completely unreadable, masking the storm of emotions raging inside her. She'd known exactly what she wanted from the very beginning of this mess.She was so sure of her deep feelings that she would gladly lay out a literal red carpet to welcome her wife home if Mikha ever decided to come to her.

Sophia snapped, sharply calling Aiah out for daring to refer to Mikha as her own.

"Oh, I’m sorry. I really can't help it. The law says we're married, so technically and legally, she’s all mine until I sign those papers," Aiah retorted with a sweet, mocking smile.

Pissing Sophia off hadn't been part of the original agenda. In fact, Aiah had fully intended to sign the divorce papers tonight to finally give Mikha her freedom if that was what she truly wanted.

But it seemed like the universe was playing on her side, though, because a sudden, clumsy movement sent her freshly ordered cup of hot coffee spilling right across the table. 

The dark liquid rushed over the documents, completely ruining the crisp white pages before she could even touch a pen to the signature line.

Sophia’s rage finally snapped as she watched the wet ink bleed and dissolve into the stained paper. "Listen here. You might have the legal rights to Mikha on a piece of paper and in the eyes of the law, but Mikha loves me. We have eight years of history and she loves me more than anything else."

Aiah knew she was crossing a dangerous line, but she couldn't stop herself anymore. She'd spent the last hour watching Sophia cut Mikha off every single time the woman tried to speak or voice her own opinion.

That didn't sound like eight years of mutual love.

That didn't look like eight years of beautiful romance.

To Aiah's sharp mind and highly observant eyes, it looked exactly like an eight-year prison sentence.

Aiah didn't walk out of that suffocating café because she actually wanted to leave. She practically forced her own heavy feet to move, dragging herself toward the exit just to stop her hands from shaking and to prevent herself from doing the unthinkable.

Every protective instinct in her body was screaming at her to grab Mikha by the hand, pull her out of that place, and rescue her from the miserable, controlling prison that was waiting for her the moment she settled down with Sophia. 

The urge to shield Mikha was overwhelming, but deep down, a cold splash of reality hit her. She knew she couldn't just do that. She knew it wasn't her place, and she knew it wasn't right.

She'd never want to be a homewrecker.

She'd never want to be labeled as a desperate, pathetic second choice.

She'd never want to be the villain who destroyed someone else's long-term relationship.

Still, that eight-year history Sophia had so proudly bragged about didn't feel like a beautiful bond built on tiny, perfect moments of love and mutual respect. It looked absolutely suffocating, a heavy chain wrapped around Mikha's neck. 

As much as Aiah tried to stay objective and keep her emotions in check, she couldn't ignore how Mikha seemed like a defeated underdog in her own life, completely silenced and overshadowed by her overbearing girlfriend. 

Aiah hated seeing that bright spark in Mikha's eyes look so dim. She desperately wanted to intervene, to be the safe haven Mikha clearly needed, but her logical mind kept screaming at her to back off and face facts.

Oh, God, there were so many things she could do to change the situation. She had the passion, she had the resources, and she technically still had the legal right as her wife, but she wouldn't, she couldn't, and she absolutely shouldn't.

The only thing she could actually do in that painful moment was just walk away without looking back. 

She knew with absolute certainty that if she turned around to catch one last glimpse of Mikha's sad, pleading eyes, she'd lose all control and do something incredibly crazy, selfish, and ruinous.

Over the agonizing days that followed, Aiah buried herself in a mountain of distractions just to survive the heartbreak. 

She packed her daily schedule to the absolute brim, running from back-to-back corporate work to endless, exhausting business meetings. 

She booked spontaneous flights and travel itineraries here and there, desperately trying to outrun her own thoughts and keep her mind off the woman she wanted so badly but couldn't have.

It didn't help that her phone kept buzzing with notifications. Mikha was trying to reach out to her, calling and texting repeatedly to ask when they could meet again so Aiah could finally sign the replacement papers. 

To be honest, watching those messages pop up felt incredibly pathetic and desperate, though Aiah wasn't sure if she was judging Mikha for rushing the divorce, or judging herself for staring at the screen with tears in her eyes, wishing the texts meant something else entirely.

Every single time she walked through the front door of the new house she'd recently bought, reality slapped her right in the face with a cruel, mocking hand. 

Looking around at the empty, quiet rooms was an agonizing reminder of her own foolishness. 

Her deliberate, careful choices of cozy furniture, the perfect lighting, and the elegant designs were a total, painful contrast to the impulsive way she'd rushed into buying the property. 

She'd spent months carefully turning a house into a warm home, choosing colors and textures with Mikha's comfort in mind, all without any certainty that the very reason she did it was ever going to be hers to keep. 

Now, she was left standing alone in a beautiful, empty shell of a future that had completely turned to dust before it even started.

But Aiah kept hoping for a miracle anyway, even though she knew it was completely impossible. 

Sitting alone in the quiet of her condo, she secretly prayed for a chance at something she wasn't even sure she actually deserved. 

She was yearning for something that felt entirely wrong in the eyes of the world, a forbidden desire that kept her up through the loneliest hours of the night. 

Still, she kept that desperate longing locked away in the absolute furthest corners of her mind, never daring to voice it aloud to a single soul because admitting it out loud would make the pain too real to bear.

If the situation were just a little bit different, she'd do absolutely anything and everything in her power to make those beautiful, guarded eyes shimmer with pure, unfiltered happiness. She'd dedicate her whole life to erasing the sadness she'd seen in Mikha. 

If their situation weren't so horribly complicated, she'd bravely drag her away from the chaos of her current relationship and gently place her inside the safe, loving sanctuary she'd built with her own two hands. She'd protect her from every storm.

If only things were simple. If only they'd met before the eight years of history had taken root, or before the walls of commitment had been built so high.

It was so incredibly hopeless for Aiah to sit there and wonder if she'd ever get a real shot at loving her. 

It was a completely foolish, impossible daydream, but it remained a wild, untamed what-if that refused to leave her heart. She just wanted a single shift in the universe.

Just once.

Just one chance to show Mikha what real, unburdened love was supposed to feel like.

Just one chance and she’d take care of her.

Just one chance and she’d love her all her life.

Just one chance. 

That was all she hoped for.

She’d been so sure, before today, that no one could slow her world down. That no one could stop her, not really, and not ever. She’d built herself around that certainty, worn it like something permanent.

But now someone has.

Now, someone did.

Mikha did.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Mikha had stopped her entire world with just one look, with just one encounter after that night in LA. She’d made Aiah want to settle down, something Aiah hadn’t believed anyone could do.

Before her, Aiah’s breath had always been taken by other things. Chasing thrills. Chasing flights. Chasing adventures and fleeting moments that couldn’t be held for a lifetime, things that lived only in memory, permanent in that way alone.

But that was before.

Now her breath was taken by one woman, the same woman who was stealing it all over again right here, in the four corners of their bedroom.

Of their home.

Their lips hadn’t parted since they’d walked through the bedroom door, still finding each other through every slow, stumbling step toward the bed. 

The only moment they pulled away was when air made it necessary, and even then it was only to come back harder, deeper, like the brief separation had only sharpened the need.

Clothes came off with fumbling hands, trembling with anticipation they hadn’t fully learned how to carry yet. 

Hands traveled across skin, tracing curves and crossing into territory that was new and uncharted for them both, doing their best to learn it all, to press it into memory with warm palms. 

Where hands had gone, lips followed, like they were writing something, like they were leaving promises against each other’s skin, small poems, and quiet plans for a future they hadn’t said out loud yet but both seeing.

The room filled with it, all of it, breathy moans and soft gasps and low groans, the sound of two people tracing constellations into each other, hands first and then lips, claiming like they’d been waiting a long time for permission, owning like they’d been starved far too long to be gentle about it.

“Aiah…” 

Mikha breathed out when Aiah descended down the valley between her chest, lower to her stomach, lower still to a place that felt sacred enough to kneel before, sacred enough to worship like an altar.

“Oh, God…” 

The words came from Mikha’s lips, her voice catching as she felt the stretch inside her by her lover, while that same lover’s mouth was busy retracing and remapping the skin of her neck like it belonged to her. 

Curses and moans spilled freely from Mikha after that, words of encouragement woven between them to do more, to give more, and to compliments of greatness. 

Her voice is colored entirely by pleasure, by the feeling of being worshipped and loved at the same time. Her needs were being met completely, carefully. Never too much. Never too little. Just exactly enough, and then a little more.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ Never harsh, but not exactly as gentle.

Foreheads press together as their skin craves that delicious friction only they can create. They trade open-mouthed kisses between breathless promises and whispers of how beautiful the other looks.

Aiah had always loved watching Mikha blush. It was one of her favorite things, something she’d collected like a habit since the very beginning. But nothing she’d seen before could come close to what was in front of her right now. 

Mikha’s skin was flushed deep with pleasure, marked in places by hands and mouths that hadn’t been careful about leaving traces. 

She was glistening, trembling, and her mouth parted around heavy breaths, her bare chest rising and falling in quick, unsteady waves as Aiah held her through the climb of her second release, guiding her up and over it with steady, devoted hands.

Then the world shifted to return favor.

Aiah’s eyes rolled back, her gentle fingers gathered Mikha’s hair, red strands wrapped loosely in her careful grip, and everything rearranged itself. 

Mikha had always had this way of stealing her breath, it had started that first night in LA and it had never once stopped. Right now she was doing it again, descending slowly between Aiah’s already parted thighs, welcomed there the same way Aiah had learned to welcome her everywhere else. 

Like coming home.

Mikha took her time. She was unhurried and deliberate about it, and that alone was its own particular kind of agony. Frustrating in the most exquisite way, the kind that coils tighter the longer it’s drawn out.

“Misis ko… please.”

Her voice is soft but clearly strained by the need to feel what she yearns for. The person between her legs only smirks and chuckles sexily in response. 

But when Mikha finally gives Aiah’s system exactly what it’s been aching for, Aiah swears to God and all the angels that she’s been sent to heaven and back.

Aiah let herself be selfish about it. 

Greedy, even. 

God knew how long she’d held herself back from all of this, how long she’d kept her hands to herself and her wants at a careful distance.

From being able to hold Mikha like this, and being held back with the same tenderness. 

From being able to kiss her breathless and feel that same breathlessness returned with equal force. 

From being able to make love to her like this, fully and without reservation, the way two people do when they both want it, when they both feel like they belong to each other without anything complicated or uncertain sitting between them.

This, right here, was certainty in its purest and most exquisite form.

“Mikha…”

That name was the only word that made sense at that moment. 

It belonged to the woman who made her toes curl and her back arch, the woman who put stars behind her eyes in the middle of the afternoon. 

It belonged to the woman who had made her loosen her grip on uncertainty, on the careless and untethered life she’d built for herself, the woman who drew tears from her eyes in the same breath as pleasure as she came apart for the second time that day.

It was the name of the same woman who, in a drunken haze, had pressed a pen to marriage papers with a wide and happy smile, and who, completely sober, had refused to sign the ones asking for a divorce.

The same woman who Aiah already knew, with a quiet and unshakeable certainty, would be worth everything. 

Worth it if the world moved fast or slow. 

Worth it even if it stopped altogether.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Worth it with all the hopes and chances available.

When it was all over, their bones were heavy and their bodies trembling, though not in any way that felt wrong. 

Never that. 

They lay together on the ruined bed, the duvet pulled over their bare skin, limbs tangled loosely, every inch of space between them closed.

Aiah’s fingers moved in slow, idle shapes across Mikha’s back while Mikha curled into her, her head resting on Aiah’s arm, her hand settled over Aiah’s chest like she was listening for something, like she needed to feel the heartbeat beneath her palm just to be sure it was real.

The silence that settled over them wasn’t the kind weighted with regret. It wasn’t the kind that makes you want to get up and put your clothes back on and pretend the room isn’t full of something you don’t know what to do with. 

It was the opposite of all that. 

It was full, warm, and content, threaded through with the quiet understanding that they’d both be very willing to do this again tomorrow, or the day after, or later tonight if the mood found them.

Every time Aiah pressed her lips to the top of Mikha’s head, Mikha’s eyes would close. Every single time, without fail, she’d lean into it a little more.

Neither of them could quite believe this was going to be their life now.

“Misis ko?” Aiah called her name softly, her voice low and unhurried.

“Po?” Mikha lifted her head, meeting Aiah’s eyes. Aiah was already looking at her, her expression open and gentle.

Aiah smiled, slow and satisfied. “Misis nga talaga kita,” she said, the words carrying every bit of the smugness and pride she clearly felt about it.

Mikha scoffed. Her eyes rolled. But the smile on her face gave her away completely as she pushed herself up onto one elbow to get a proper look at her wife. Aiah shifted to match her, tilting her head up, perfectly content to let Mikha look.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

“Ayaw mo ba?” Mikha asked, her tone light and playful, her eyes moving slowly across Aiah’s face like she was taking inventory of every detail, committing each one to memory.

“Gustong-gusto,” Aiah answered without hesitation, her hand finding Mikha’s waist and settling there, her thumb drawing small, unhurried strokes against the warmth of her skin.

Mikha saw it clearly in her eyes. The sincerity sitting right there on the surface, no performance, nothing hidden. She leaned down and pressed her lips to Aiah’s forehead, and Aiah let her eyes fall shut, simply feeling it, the quietness of that kiss and all the gentleness folded inside it.

When Mikha pulled back, she stayed close, just looking at her.

“Misis k—” Aiah started.

Mikha stopped her, gently, with words of her own.

“Ang ganda mo, Misis ko,” she said softly, her voice carrying the kind of reverence that belongs to someone watching something rare and extraordinary, like she was witnessing Aiah hang every star in the night sky one by one.

Aiah went quiet. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks, climb to the tips of her ears, and she knew without needing a mirror that she was blushing. Her stomach was doing that thing again, swirling and flipping like it had no intention of settling down. 

Hearing Mikha call her that, in that voice, with that look on her face, was enough to undo her completely. 

Enough to take every last bit of breath from her lungs. Enough to sweep away all that bold, easy confidence she wore so naturally everywhere else.

But she wasn’t complaining. 

She never would.

“Isa pa nga, call me that again, please?” Aiah asked, her voice soft, her lower lip pushing out in the smallest, most sincere pout.

Mikha laughed quietly at that, warm and fond, already reaching up to cup Aiah’s face in her hand, her palm gentle against her jaw. “Misis ko…” she said first, giving her exactly what she asked for.

Aiah felt it land somewhere deep, right at the center of her chest. Her eyes closed on their own. It felt like a favorite note, the kind in a song that hits the same way every single time no matter how many times you’ve heard it. She wasn’t really expecting anything that would follow after that endearment. 

“…I love you.”

Those words.

They hit Aiah’s chest like something she hadn’t known she’d been waiting for until it arrived. Her heart was so loud she could feel it in her throat, in her fingertips, and everywhere at once.

Then she opened her eyes and found Mikha already watching her, steady and unhurried, like she had nowhere else to be and nothing else she’d rather be doing.

“What did you say, Misis ko?” Aiah asked, her breath shallow, her voice smaller than she meant it to be, her heart moving too fast to let her speak any louder.

Mikha reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Aiah’s ear, gentle and careful, then leaned down and kissed her. 

It was slow, the kind of kiss that didn’t rush anywhere, that stayed right where it was and savored everything it found there, the warmth of what had come before and the tenderness of what was happening now, all held in the same unhurried moment. 

When they pulled apart, Mikha’s thumb was still moving softly against her cheek, still tracing the same quiet path.

“Ano ulit ’yun, Misis ko? Please?” Aiah asked again, barely above a whisper, the words coming out like a plea, and she felt her eyes grow wet without deciding to let them.

They weren’t tears born from anything painful. They were the other kind, the kind that comes when something happens that’s so good, so far beyond what you thought your life was allowed to hold, and that your body doesn’t know how else to respond to it.

Mikha smiled at her. She kissed her forehead once, and then again, like each kiss was helping her settle the words gathering inside her before she could let them out properly. Then she pulled back just enough to look Aiah in the eyes, really look at her, and she let the words come.

“I love you, Misis ko.”

Aiah didn't realize she was crying until the moment Mikha's thumb moved to wipe the dampness away. The weight of the words she had longed to hear for so long finally settled into her heart, leaving her in a state of beautiful disbelief. She reached up with a gentle hand to cup Mikha's cheeks, her touch anchoring them both in the quiet gravity of the moment.

“I love you more, Misis ko.”

They sealed the promise with a kiss that felt like a sacred pact belonging only to them. 

“So…” Aiah started when they pulled apart.

Mikha was still close, her fingers tracing the line of Aiah’s cheek without any hurry. “Hmm?” she hummed, waiting.

“Dito ka na sa’kin, Misis ko?” Aiah asked, her voice careful and soft, her eyes searching Mikha’s face for the answer before it even came.

Mikha nodded, and Aiah’s heart immediately forgot how to keep a steady rhythm. “Dito lang sa’yo,” she answered, holding her gaze without flinching, every word carrying the full weight of her honesty.

Aiah pulled in a slow breath and let it out gently, still not quite able to wrap her head around the fact that this was real. “Gusto mo dito?” she asked again.

Mikha smiled. “Gustong-gusto,” she said, and then leaned down to press her lips to Aiah’s forehead like she was punctuating the answer with something warmer than words.

“Ito ’yung gusto mo?” Aiah asked again, needing to be sure, needing to hear it one more time in a different shape.

Mikha pulled her closer before she replied. “Ikaw ang gusto ko,” she said, and kissed the tip of Aiah’s nose.

That swirling feeling rushed back through Aiah’s stomach all at once, that warm, ridiculous, wonderful feeling that she was starting to understand would probably never fully go away. It felt like watching a miracle happen quietly, right in front of her, close enough to touch.

She still wanted to hear more. Not out of doubt, not out of anything close to that. She just wanted to hear it. Wanted to collect every version of it Mikha was willing to give her.

“Dito ka lang sa tabi ko?” she asked again, her voice softer this time, carrying just a little bit of a pout at its edges.

Mikha, patient and completely taken with this softer side of her wife, nodded without hesitation. “Dito lang po sa tabi mo,” she said.

Aiah smiled so wide she felt it in her cheeks. A giggle slipped out before she could do anything about it.

“Ang cute mo!” Mikha said, reaching up to pinch her cheek gently before leaning in to kiss the same spot.

Aiah laughed, the sound filling the room and replacing everything that had filled it before. Then Mikha was tickling her and the laughter got louder, the two of them tangled together until Aiah grabbed her and flipped them over, ending up on top with Mikha pinned beneath her. They stilled at the same moment, eyes meeting in a silence that held everything they hadn’t said and didn’t need to.

“Akin ka na?” Aiah asked, wanting nothing more than to keep feeding the butterflies rioting inside her stomach.

Mikha lifted her hands and cupped Aiah’s face between her palms. “Opo. Sa’yo na. Sa’yo lang,” she answered.

They smiled at each other, slow and full and unhidden, before leaning in to seal it once more with a kiss.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ 

It was a final answer to a lifetime once tested by uncertainty, now replaced by the absolute certainty that they would spend every tomorrow and every day that followed running back to one another. 

No matter where the world took them, they would always choose to come home to each other.

Hours turned into days.

Days turned into weeks.

Weeks turned into months. 

The world turned softly around them, spinning on a new and gentle axis where they moved in perfect, effortless harmony. It was a beautiful, dizzying contrast to the chaotic lives they used to live. 

For Aiah, this stillness was a universe away from her old routine, where her days were a breathless blur of chasing flights, living out of suitcases, and constantly running toward the next horizon. 

For Mikha, it was a quiet rebellion against a past spent following orders, living under the suffocating weight of someone else’s demands, and fading into the background of her own life.

But together, they built a sanctuary.

Mikha finally learned to find her voice, speaking up with a newfound confidence that bloomed from the safety they shared. Aiah made sure of it, refusing to make even the smallest decision without looking into Mikha’s eyes and asking for her thoughts. 

In return, Aiah learned the sacred art of slowing down. The woman who used to live for the thrill of tomorrow was now completely content with just today, as long as Mikha was by her side. 

Mikha learned to look in the mirror and love the reflection staring back at her, a self-love that grew fierce and unbreakable because Aiah’s unwavering devotion watered its roots. 

With Mikha there, Aiah discovered the profound beauty of a quiet, unhurried existence.

Now, they are softly whispering about the future and planning to get married again soon. This time, they want to be surrounded by the people who truly matter, gathered together to witness the deep, enduring love they found in each other's arms.

They are not just planning a wedding, though. 

They are actively building a life, laying down a foundation so strong today that it can effortlessly hold the weight of whatever tomorrow brings.

They know by now that loving each other is never just about the grand romantic gestures or the easy days. It is about the heavy lifting of active listening and the deep empathy of truly understanding. 

It means compromising so they can always meet on the exact same page, but never to the painful extent of chipping away at their own identities just to fit an expectation.

Of course, healthy arguments happen because friction is inevitable when two souls intertwine, but they manage those moments with patience and grace.

They also knew that love could not magically erase old wounds. Instead of ignoring the ghosts of their pasts, they handled their individual traumas with the utmost privacy, even seeking the guidance of professionals to help them heal. 

They committed to doing the hard work so they could show up as the best versions of themselves for each other. Their relationship was never treated carelessly. It was handled like a rare, priceless masterpiece, guarded with fierce protection and cradled with an abundance of tender, infinite care.

· · ─ ᨒ ོ ☼ ─ · ·

Aiah stirred awake to the feeling of a heavy, proprietary arm looped around her waist, anchoring her to the mattress with the grip of a tiny, exceptionally stubborn vice. There was a face buried so deeply into the crook of her neck that she could feel the rhythmic, warm puffs of sleep-breath tickling her collarbone. 

Even without opening her eyes, she knew that exact warmth by heart. It was a sensory profile she had fully memorized, right down to the faint, comforting scent of lavender shampoo and pure, unadulterated laziness.

When she finally blinked her eyes open, she had to carefully use both hands to pry herself back a fraction of an inch just to look at the woman she loved so deeply. She immediately lost the battle against a massive grin.

Mikha looked unbelievably peaceful, clinging to her like a tiny, aggressive koala that had finally found its favorite, highest-quality eucalyptus tree. If Aiah shifted even a millimeter, the human koala would tighten her grip and let out a tiny, warning grunt. 

Honestly, it was the ultimate reality check. 

How could someone look like a fierce, untouchable runway model by day, and then transform into a helpless, pouty plush toy by night?

As much as Aiah wanted to completely abandon her adult responsibilities, cancel her entire day, and just savor the cozy perfection of the moment, her stomach let out a treacherous growl. 

Duty called, or more accurately, breakfast called. 

Before she made her great escape, she leaned down and planted a soft, lingering kiss right on Mikha’s forehead.

The second Aiah began the high-stakes tactical maneuver of sliding out of the bed, Mikha’s arm instantly flailed through the empty air, blindly searching for the stolen warmth. 

It was a tragic, adorable display of abandonment. 

Aiah practically melted on the spot, giggling silently as she grabbed a plush body pillow and stuffed it into her vacant spot. Mikha immediately wrapped her limbs around the decoy, nuzzling into the cotton with a satisfied sigh, completely fooled by the bait-and-switch.

With her mission a success, Aiah marched downstairs toward the kitchen, feeling a bit like a mastermind.

She figured a hot, fragrant breakfast would be the perfect peace offering for leaving her wife stranded in bed with a fake substitute. 

It was a foolproof plan, really. 

Mikha absolutely worshipped Aiah’s cooking, so a plate of perfectly fluffy pancakes and sizzling bacon would completely disarm any morning grumpiness. 

Aiah smiled to herself as she tied her apron, feeling incredibly smug. Feeding her wife well was a major point of pride, and in her head, it definitely added at least fifty bonus points to her overall wife aura.

Aiah completely leaned into her element, humming a sweet, upbeat love song that was currently buzzing through the single AirPod tucked into her right ear. She hip-swayed to the rhythm while working her culinary magic, flipping thick, fluffy pancakes in the pan until they were a flawless golden brown. 

Right next to them, a generous pile of bacon was sizzling away in its own glorious juices, filling the entire kitchen with a scent so divine it should have been illegal. 

With a flick of her wrist, she whipped a bowl of eggs into submission, pouring them into a hot skillet with a splash of cream to ensure they became the softest, most cloud-like scrambled eggs in existence.

Just as she plated the final pancake and turned off the stove, a sudden, familiar warmth collided with her spine.

A pair of slender arms snaked securely around her waist, and a sleepy face buried itself right between Aiah’s shoulder blades. Mikha had arrived, still half-asleep and smelling faintly of the decoy pillow she had finally rejected. 

Because of their adorable height difference, Mikha fit perfectly right under Aiah's shoulders, a viewpoint that gave Aiah the absolute best angle to just tilt her head back and look down at her tiny, affectionate shadow.

"You’re a traitor," a muffled, groggy voice complained against Aiah’s shirt. "I woke up hugging a lifeless object, Misis ko. I’m traumatized."

Aiah chuckled, leaning her entire weight back into Mikha’s smaller frame, loving how those arms instantly tightened to support her. 

"Sorry na po, Misis ko. That lifeless object kept you asleep naman for another solid twenty minutes while I was down here po para ipagluto ng masarap na breakfast ang Misis ko na ‘yan."

Mikha sniffled playfully, her nose nudging Aiah’s spine. "I do smell bacon nga, so your sneaky crimes are officially pardoned po."

"Wow, so I’m just a personal chef to you now?" Aiah teased, turning around within the circle of Mikha’s arms so they were finally chest-to-chest.

Mikha blinked up at her with heavy, beautiful morning eyes, a soft, pouty smile playing on her lips. "The prettiest chef in the world, actually."

Aiah melted completely. She couldn't resist anymore, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss right onto Mikha’s forehead, right at that perfect, custom-made angle their height difference allowed. 

Mikha sighed happily into the touch, closing her eyes. Aiah then slid her arms down to wrap around Mikha's lower back, pulling her flush against her as they stood there in the middle of the kitchen, rocking side to side in a warm, lazy morning cuddle. The food was getting a little cooler, but neither of them cared even a little bit.

On the rare mornings when Mikha managed to beat her to the kitchen, the entire house felt like it was hosting a vibrant, early-morning fiesta. 

Mikha was a culinary force of nature when she wanted to be, specializing in a legendary, garlic-loaded fried rice that Aiah genuinely believed should be studied by scientists. 

Combined with a freshly brewed cup of coffee that was always customized to Aiah's exact, specific preferences, it was enough to make Aiah want to build a small shrine to her wife right next to the refrigerator. 

Mikha would go all out, crafting massive Filipino silog feasts where crispy daing na bangus, perfectly tender tapa, or smoky longganisa took center stage. Sometimes there were even juicy red hotdogs and beautifully fried eggs with lacey, crispy edges. 

Every single inch of the countertop would be covered in plates, looking like a full-blown town festival at seven in the morning.

But those elaborate cooking sessions were a rare luxury because Aiah had a terrible habit of treating her wife like a fragile, priceless glass sculpture. 

The moment Aiah caught wind of Mikha trying to lift a single spatula, whether it was for breakfast, lunch, or dinner, she would swoop in like a romantic superhero. 

She would literally scoop Mikha up into her arms, ignoring her wife’s squeals of protest, and march over to the kitchen island to park her safely out of harm's way.

"Stay put, Misis ko. Ako na," Aiah would say with a smug grin, gently placing Mikha down on a high barstool. 

Before Mikha could even open her mouth to launch a counter-argument, Aiah would lean in and plant a firm, strategic kiss right on her lips to effectively mute her.

Mikha would always try to protest anyway, crossing her arms and sticking out her lower lip in a deeply devastating pout. "Kaya ko naman po," she would complain, her voice dropping into that soft, raspy morning register. "Let me do it, please? Gusto ko rin po na alagaan at pagsilbihan ka."

That was Aiah's ultimate weakness. 

Whenever Mikha deployed those big, pleading puppy-dog eyes combined with that ridiculously adorable pout, Aiah's entire defense system would instantly crumble into dust. She would immediately accept defeat, throwing her hands up in the air because she was completely powerless against that face.

Honestly, who was she to even try saying no? 

That was the Mikha Lim right there. 

Her breathtaking, impossibly gorgeous wife was looking at her with pure devotion, and Aiah was just a weak, deeply whipped woman who knew exactly how lucky she was.

Aside from their chaotic morning kitchen battles, they had truly mastered the art of being deeply, beautifully domesticated in every single aspect of their shared life. 

They were a well-oiled machine in every area imaginable, turning even the most mundane household chores into an absolute playground for their romance.

Take the laundry, for instance.

True to form, Aiah lived for the sole purpose of pampering Mikha, so she had completely claimed the role of the laundry commander. 

Her favorite routine involved sorting their clothes with meticulous, borderline obsessive perfection, ensuring every fabric softener was measured to the exact drop. It made her feel like the ultimate, textbook definition of a proud wife to her gorgeous partner. 

Mikha, on the other hand, was the designated folder and organizer, responsible for turning the fresh laundry into neat, satisfying stacks inside their closet. 

But Aiah's absolute favorite part of the job was the built-in opportunity to tease Mikha, specifically when it came to her wife's delicate undergarments.

"Misis ko?" Aiah called out across the room today, her voice dripping with mischief as she sought out Mikha, who was currently busy mopping the floors nearby.

"Po?" Mikha responded automatically, resting the mop against her hip and walking closer to the laundry station to see what her wife needed.

The moment Aiah made sure she had Mikha’s full, undivided attention, she slowly lifted a pair of lacy red underwear high into the air. She held the tiny piece of fabric between two fingers like it was a priceless piece of evidence in a high-stakes crime drama.

"You looked so sexy in this, Misis ko. Gusto mo bang bilhan pa kita ng marami?" Aiah asked, her eyes sparkling with a playful, wicked glint.

Mikha’s entire face instantly flushed, her cheeks and the tips of her ears turning a brilliant shade of crimson at her wife’s shameless antics. 

It only got worse when Aiah began to inspect the rest of the freshly washed underwears, turning them over in her hands and examining the lace as if she were a museum curator inspecting a rare, expensive treasure. 

Honestly, to Aiah, they kind of were treasures.

"Ewan ko sa’yo. You’re insane," Mikha breathed out, her usually cool voice turning incredibly shy as she tried to look anywhere but at the red lace.

"What, why? I’m just appreciating the fabric. Besides, I love taking them off of you kaya," Aiah admitted with zero shame, leaning in close until their noses almost touched. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively before quickly leaning down to steal a sweet, loud peck from Mikha’s burning cheek.

"Stop examining them, Misis ko. Please," Mikha warned, though her shy voice lacked any real authority. 

Defeated by the teasing, she quickly turned her back to resume her mopping duties, desperately trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips. Her heart was beating wildly against her ribs, a chaotic rhythm that Aiah never failed to induce.

Aiah stood by the washing machine, watching her wife's retreating, blushing figure with absolute adoration. 

Making Mikha fluster was her favorite hobby, and it was exactly the kind of sweet, ridiculous moment that made her fall in love all over again.

The domestic bliss didn't stop at the laundry room. 

Grocery shopping was an entirely different arena where their dynamic reached peak, hilarious perfection. Whenever they hit the supermarket aisles, they'd a very specific, unspoken system. 

Aiah was the designated cart driver, happily pushing the metal trolley around like a chauffeur, while her lovely wife took absolute control of the master list, navigating the store with the precision of a seasoned general.

Mikha was incredibly deliberate and meticulous about every single product that crossed the threshold of their cart, and Aiah found herself falling deeper in love with every label Mikha scrutinized. She was fiercely practical, always hunting down the best value.

"This one's way cheaper even though it's the exact same quality," Mikha declared, holding up a bottle of dishwashing liquid before triumphantly tossing it into the cart.

Aiah chuckled, leaning over the handlebar. "Misis ko, ’wag mong isipin ’yung gastos. I got it naman," she reminded her gently. 

Mikha just turned around, playfully stuck her tongue out, and laughed softly as she moved to the next aisle.

When they finally proceeded to the meat section, Mikha went full financial planner mode. "We only need stocks for the whole week lang naman, so enough na siguro ’yung two kilos each sa chicken and pork. Mag-add na lang tayo ng veggies and fruits," she said, tapping her chin as she carefully inspected the cuts of meat to find the absolute perfect selections.

Aiah swore to God, the butterflies inside her stomach were throwing a wild, chaotic party right then and there. Watching Mikha do these deeply responsible, wifey-coded things was doing something to her heart. She completely lost focus on the grocery shopping, stopping the cart entirely just to lean against it and stare at her wife with absolute, unfiltered adoration.

"Why are you staring and smiling like that?" Mikha asked, her cheeks instantly flushing a pretty shade of pink the moment she caught Aiah’s intense gaze on her.

"Eh kasi, bagay na bagay sa’yo maging Misis ko," Aiah said playfully. 

Before Mikha could even roll her eyes at the cheesy line, Aiah stepped around the cart, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her close to plant a loud, lingering kiss right on her blushing cheek.

They didn't care even a little bit that they were standing in the middle of a crowded supermarket. 

They didn't care about the confused shoppers squeezing past them to grab their groceries. 

In that moment, the frozen food aisle was their own private romantic comedy, and Aiah was more than happy to be the leading lady who was completely, hopelessly whipped.

Aside from all the normal domesticated routines or chores they'd learned to do together around the house, they also learned other things that were making them blush and swallow hard.

It wasn't just about dishwashing liquid and grocery lists anymore, because their shared life had a way of shifting from innocent to incredibly heated in the blink of an eye.

Like for example, taking a shower together.

The very first time they ever did it, the entire bathroom filled with a thick, heavy tension that even the cool shower waters couldn't mend. It all started during one incredibly memorable moment on a random afternoon. 

Mikha absolutely loves to shower because she doesn't really like the feeling of being sweaty, and the mere sensation of stickiness on her skin drives her crazy. Because of that, she can easily take a shower twice or thrice a day without a second thought. 

On this specific day, she was peacefully showering and washing her body, completely lost in her own world, when the bathroom door suddenly clicked open and revealed a fully naked Aiah standing on the tile.

"What... are you... doing?" Mikha asked, her voice cracking as she abruptly turned off the water faucet and tried to cover herself, barely managing to block anything with just her hands. 

Shyness was embracing her deeply from head to toe, and she could already feel a sudden, intense heat spreading inside her system while her heart was busy doing loud thuds she could absolutely hear echoing in her ears.

"Tutuparin ko lang ang fantasy ko," Aiah said smugly, looking completely unbothered by the fact that she was totally naked as she took a slow, deliberate step closer to Mikha's frozen figure, who was still desperately trying to cover herself.

"Anong fantasy?" Mikha managed to ask, totally unable to look into Aiah's eyes directly while her brain scrambled, trying to figure out how to move past her to reach for a towel or make an exit if possible.

"Maligo kasama ang Misis ko," Aiah said softly, her tone instantly becoming genuine and polite as she carefully reached out toward Mikha's wet, naked body.

Mikha didn't flinch, but she was just too shy to function normally. This was the exact first time Aiah and her had ever done anything like this in broad daylight under a running faucet if possible.

Her hands were still stubbornly trying to cover her private parts, which was honestly a ridiculous reflex since it was a not-so-new view to Aiah at all. 

Aiah had seen every single inch multiple times already, and she'd even landed her mouth on them during their most passionate nights.

"Misis ko," Aiah called her softly, her voice like velvet as she reached down for Mikha's trembling hands that were covering those parts. 

Her eyes stayed locked on Mikha's, refusing to tear her gaze away for even a second as she carefully pulled away those protective hands and placed them securely on her own chest.

"Nakita ko na po ‘yan lahat. No need to cover na. Ang sexy kaya ng Misis ko na ‘yan," Aiah said, flashing Mikha a breathtaking smile before leaning down to give her a sweet, reassuring peck.

"Nahihiya ako," Mikha muttered in a small, quiet voice that wasn't really filled with true embarrassment, but rather something much deeper and more overwhelming.

"Walang dapat ikahiya, Misis ko. Maganda lahat sa‘yo," Aiah murmured, and she pulled her closer until their slick, naked bodies were pressed tightly together, instantly sparking a feeling of intense need that rushed through them quickly.

Aiah's hand landed firmly on Mikha's waist as she leaned down to kiss Mikha's lips slowly, tasting the clean drops of water on her mouth. 

As they finally pulled away breathlessly, Mikha had already gotten over the sudden shyness she felt just moments ago.

"Ang weird ng fantasy mo," Mikha called out, and she laughed lightly at Aiah's sudden sense of humor. 

Which wasn't really funny when she actually thought about it, because it was kind of incredibly intimate and romantic if Mikha were being completely honest with herself.

"Ikaw ang fantasy ko," Aiah said, and the entire tone of her voice changed into a much lower, sultry, and possessive kind of tone. 

Then, Aiah leaned in and kissed Mikha again, but this time it was with a much greater hunger and a much deeper kiss. While their lips were locked, Aiah reached out and turned the shower back on, letting the warm water cascade over them as she carefully pressed Mikha's body back against the tiled wall.

The exact moment Mikha's back hit the cool wall, she could only sigh loudly at the contrasting contact and how Aiah held her carefully, but with a firm, unmistakable grip of pure greediness in the best way possible.

Not just that, they also learned to love each other's hobbies. It wasn't just about sharing a roof anymore, it was about fully diving into the things that made the other person tick.

Like reading books, which quickly became one of their absolute favorite silent bondings on a lazy weekend afternoon. 

Aiah would usually fall asleep right on Mikha's lap, or she'd purposefully claim that exact spot ahead of time, requesting Mikha to read the chapters loud enough for the both of them. 

They'd turn it into their own little book club, deeply discussing the plot and characters afterward like total nerds.

Or pilates on Sunday, or bouldering, or hitting the gym together where they're actively spotting one another during heavy lifts. 

It's an athletic routine that always takes a hilarious turn because they instantly become fiercely possessive the second they notice other entitled gym-goers eyeing their woman. 

Most of the time, the ridiculously possessive one is Aiah. She'll carefully drag Mikha down by the waist to pull her close, or she'll straight-up scoop her up in the middle of the weight room, or randomly kiss her right there on the gym floor just to show off to the entire room that Mikha's officially taken.

Or playing video games on the couch, where they've established a strict rule that the one who loses the game has to kiss the winner depending on the exact amount of points the winner got. 

Mostly, it's Mikha who always wins these games because she's naturally competitive. If she wins by fifty points, Aiah happily has to give her fifty kisses, and Aiah's definitely not complaining at all. 

Sometimes, Aiah even intentionally loses the game on purpose just to get the ultimate privilege of marking Mikha's entire face with her lips.

Sometimes, it's just them sitting quietly on their couch with Mikha's legs stretched out over Aiah's lap. 

Aiah's hand will rest casually on Mikha's legs while they try to decide on a movie marathon. 

When they actually manage to watch the film, sometimes they'll finish a movie crying their eyes out over a dramatic ending, or they won't finish it at all since one of them will inevitably fall fast asleep right in the middle of the plot.

Or, on much better nights, both of them will end up straddling the other, both already half-naked as they completely forget about the television screen to devour each other's lips and sensitive skin while the movie plays on as background noise.

In those moments, there's absolutely no teasing needed. There are no flirtatious words spoken, and there's not even any foreplay sometimes. 

All it takes is for them to share a single, knowing glance after feeling that sudden, familiar sensation of heat when they accidentally rub their knees together, especially when an intimate romance scene is shown on the movie screen.

"Shit, sobrang ganda mo," Mikha breathed out, her voice shaky with adoration as she helped Aiah pull off the very last pieces of fabric off of her skin.

Aiah only smirked at the compliment, then sat back up on her straddling position as she leaned down to kiss Mikha once again. 

They moved together passionately, grazing the couch multiple times as the furniture became the sole witness to the pure devotion they have for one another. 

It certainly wasn't the first time they'd been this close, but it always felt like that exact first time because they simply couldn't get enough of each other.

· · ─ ᨒ ོ ☼ ─ · ·

The alarm cut through the quiet at 5:00 AM.

Aiah stirred first, moving slowly and carefully to silence her phone, her body still heavy from the night’s cardio. More importantly, she was careful not to disturb the woman attached to her. 

She felt it the moment she moved, the way Mikha’s arms tightened their hold, the way she burrowed closer without fully waking up, her nose nudging against Aiah’s neck in a way that tickled just enough to make Aiah want to stay exactly where she was forever.

Mikha was clinging to her like her life genuinely depended on it.

Aiah smiled in the dark, hugging her back and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. It was one of a thousand things she’d already added to her growing list of favorites, the list that had been quietly getting longer every single day since Mikha decided to stay.

“Good morning,” Mikha mumbled, still mostly asleep, her voice soft and rough at the edges.

“Good morning, Misis ko,” Aiah said, her hand moving in slow strokes across her wife’s back. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Mikha hummed and nodded against her neck. Then, because she clearly couldn’t help herself even half-asleep, she started pressing slow, deliberate kisses to Aiah’s neck.

Aiah’s brain briefly stopped working.

Anything Mikha did, intentional or not, had this effect on her. It didn’t matter if it was something undeniably attractive or something completely ridiculous. The result was always the same.

“Not that I don’t…” 

Aiah swallowed, her head tilting just slightly to give her wife better access without meaning to. 

“…that I don’t want what… what you’re doing, Misis ko…” 

She paused to gather herself, which was harder than it should’ve been. 

“…but you… you want us to jog… right?” 

The whole sentence came out in pieces, breathless and delayed, held together barely.

Mikha hummed again, still listening, probably, while continuing to press soft but lingering kisses to her neck, behind her ear, and along the warm skin of her clavicle like she had all the time in the world and no memory of suggesting a 5 AM jog.

Aiah pulled back slowly and carefully just enough to look at her, at this sleepy, impossible woman, and then gave up entirely and kissed her by the lips.

The kiss lasted close to a minute. It always did. The only time they kept things to a light peck was in public, and even then it was rare, neither of them particularly bothered by whoever happened to be watching.

They eventually made it out of the house. 

Miraculously. 

After whatever happened on that bed that had Aiah calling Mikha’s name at a volume the neighbors probably had opinions about. 

By the time they actually stepped outside for their jog, it was already past six.

Jogging had been Mikha’s idea. She’d suggested they do it together, and Aiah, who’d been a jogging enthusiast long before any of this, hadn’t been able to say no to her wife. Partly out of pure support, mostly out of the fact that Mikha had been making a genuine effort to try all of Aiah’s hobbies, and Aiah found that entirely too endearing to resist.

They were a kilometer in when Aiah pulled up beside her, barely winded.

“Come on, Misis ko! One more kilometer. You’ve got another one in you, I know it!” she said, grinning at her wife with the boundless encouragement of someone who was absolutely fine.

Mikha, for her part, looked like she was negotiating with her own skeleton. She pressed a dramatic hand to her chest and wheezed, “Misis ko… hindi ko na yata kaya… I can literally hear my bones. They’re cracking, every single one of them. I think this is… this is what dying feels like.”

Aiah laughed, the sound spilling out freely into the quiet morning air. “You know what would help? More exercise. Better stamina, in all areas.” She let a beat pass. “Especially in bed.”

Mikha stopped running. She turned to look at her wife with an expression of pure offended dignity. “Excuse me?” she said flatly. “I lasted three rounds last night. Three, Misis ko. Without even jogging a single kilometer. I think my stamina is perfectly fine, thank you very much.”

Then she turned forward and sprinted ahead, leaving Aiah standing on the path.

Aiah stopped where she was, watching her wife’s retreating figure pulling further and further ahead. She stood there for a moment, blinking. Then the full weight of what Mikha had just said settled over her, and she shook her head slowly.

“She’s absolutely right,” she said quietly to no one. “Bawal makipag-argue. Happy wife, happy life.”

By some small miracle, they made it through the full five kilometers together. The run included everything else along the way, the flirting most of all. They’d spent a generous amount of it complimenting each other’s legs and other things.

Whenever Aiah pulled ahead, she’d give Mikha a light and unhurried spank on Mikha’s butt as she passed, then slow down after just a few strides and wait, reaching back to take her hand when Mikha caught up.

They stopped sometimes just to walk, falling into easy conversation about nothing in particular, the kind of talking that didn’t need a point. They stopped other times for no reason except to find each other’s lips for a second before moving on.

Then there were the cats.

Every time one crossed their path, Mikha would halt completely, crouch slightly, and begin her dedicated “pspspsps,” delivered with full sincerity and absolute commitment. The cats, to their credit, usually answered. 

During all of these moments, Aiah would simply stop beside her and watch her wife with an expression she’d stopped trying to control months ago.

After the run they found a coffee shop and settled in for a light breakfast. 

Mikha had already claimed their table while Aiah stood at the counter to order. From her seat, Mikha watched her, chin resting somewhere in the quiet warmth of the moment, grateful in a way that sat low and steady in her chest. 

This kind of peace, easy and entirely theirs, was something she hadn’t known she’d been missing until Aiah had become the person she came home to.

Then the peace disturbed.

A woman stepped up behind Aiah at the counter and greeted her, which on its own was perfectly ordinary. What wasn’t ordinary was the way her arm settled around Aiah’s waist like it belonged there, casual and familiar in a way that didn’t sit well with Mikha at all. Even though she saw how Aiah removed the hand the moment she felt it. 

She watched them exchange a short conversation, a few quick smiles, before Aiah excused herself and made her way back to the table with the tray balanced in her hands.

“Here na po, Misis ko,” Aiah said, setting everything down.

Mikha’s eyes hadn’t moved from the woman still standing at the counter. “Sino ’yun?” she asked, her tone flat and cool.

Aiah, who hadn’t even glanced back, understood immediately. “Si Debbie po, Misis ko,” she said, arranging their plates with practiced ease, slipping a straw into Mikha’s drink and stirring it before sliding it across.

“Close kayo?” Mikha asked, still watching.

Aiah looked at her wife and read the entire situation without needing more information. “Hindi naman,” she said. “She’s my ex.”

Mikha turned to look at her for exactly one second. Then she turned back to her waffle and picked up her knife and fork with the focused energy of someone who had decided the waffle had personally wronged her. She began slicing it with a thoroughness that suggested she was thinking about something other than breakfast.

“Let me,” Aiah offered gently, reaching over.

Mikha didn’t acknowledge her. She kept slicing, methodical and deliberate, working through that waffle like it owed her an apology.

“Misis ko,” Aiah said softly, and there was warmth folded underneath the words even as she worked very hard not to smile. “Ikaw ang pinakamaganda sa mga mata ko, at baliw na baliw ako sa’yo. Alam mo namang mahal na mahal kita, diba?”

Mikha gave one short nod and took a large bite, cheeks puffed, lips set into a pout, and eyes fixed somewhere that wasn’t Aiah.

It was one of the most adorable things Aiah had ever seen. She quietly added it to the list.

Aiah dragged her chair closer until she was right beside her wife, her hand finding the warmth of Mikha’s thigh beneath the table. 

“Nagseselos ba ang Misis ko na ’yan?” Aiah asked, her voice low and soft.

Mikha rolled her eyes. She kept chewing, cheeks still full, and began mumbling something that might’ve been words or not, or curses, or worse, though none of them were landing in any recognizable order. Aiah couldn’t make out a single one. She added that to the list too.

“Misis ko,” she said, her hand moving in slow, gentle strokes against Mikha’s inner thigh. “Wala kang dapat ikaselos. She’s just an ex. You’re my wife. She’s part of the past.” 

Aiah paused, making sure Mikha could feel the weight of what came next. 

“You’re the present and the future, Misis ko.”

That’s when Mikha lifted her eyes.

She looked at Aiah, and Aiah swore to every angel she’d ever heard of that Mikha had to be one of them, going by the way her eyes caught the light through the shimmer of tears that were threatening, very quietly, to spill over.

“Misis ko,” Aiah said softly. She brought both hands up to cup Mikha’s face, holding her there with the kind of care that didn’t need to announce itself. “Ikaw lang po ang mahal ko,” she said.

Mikha’s pout deepened. Her lips pressed together like she was trying very hard not to let the words in, even though they were already in.

“Ikaw lang po ang gusto ko habang buhay,” Aiah added, and leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead, slow and deliberate, the kind that stays a little longer than necessary on purpose.

When she pulled back, she kept her hands where they were, thumbs resting lightly against Mikha’s cheeks.

“You don’t have to be jealous of anyone,” she said, her voice settling into something steady and sure. “Ikaw ang Misis ko. Ako, sa’yo lang ako. ‘Yung katawan ko, sa’yo lang ’to lahat.” 

There was a playful lilt underneath the words, but the meaning behind them sat completely still. She meant every syllable.

Mikha let out a small, reluctant sound. “Nakakainis,” she muttered, and then the smile came through anyway, breaking past everything she’d been holding up, followed by a soft laugh that she clearly hadn’t planned on giving.

Aiah felt something in her chest go completely undone at the sight of it. “Tingnan mo nga,” she said, her own grin spreading wide. “Ang ganda-ganda mo, Misis ko. Bakit pa ’ko gugusto ng iba?” She let it land, then added, “Tapos, masarap p—aray!”

Mikha pinched her side.

Aiah winced dramatically, pulling back with a look of deeply wounded innocence that convinced absolutely no one.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

“Ooohh. You’re so violent, Misis ko. I love it,” Aiah said, and then immediately scooted her chair even closer, closing whatever small gap had been left between them. She picked up the fork, sliced one clean, careful bite of the waffle, and held it out to her wife.

“Ikaw lang ang gusto kong alagaan ng ganito, Misis ko,” she said, and her eyes were on Mikha’s when she said it, no performance in them, just the profound and quiet truth of it.

Mikha didn’t have the words for it. She wasn’t sure she had anything at all, her cheeks already warm, her stomach turning over on itself in that way it kept doing whenever Aiah looked at her like that and meant it. 

So she leaned in and stole a small, swift kiss instead, a soft press of her lips that said everything she couldn’t organize into a sentence. 

Then she went back to her waffle, chewing contentedly, her free hand dropping to Aiah’s thigh under the table, fingers moving in an idle, unhurried caress against the soft skin there.

It was a small thing. 

Aiah felt it completely. She was lifting her coffee cup to her lips when she felt it, Mikha’s mouth pressing to her shoulder, a soft kiss that lingered just a beat longer than a passing one would. The smile that came to Aiah’s face was immediate and entirely involuntary.

Then Mikha spoke. “I would love to take care of you too,” she said, her voice quiet and certain. “Hanggang sa pagtanda natin,” she added.

Aiah looked at her, and the smile she wore shifted into something softer, something that didn’t have a name but felt like everything. The coffee shop wasn’t the place for what she actually wanted to do, so she kept herself to what the moment allowed. She leaned in and pressed a small, warm peck to Mikha’s cheek.

“So…” Mikha started speaking again, her voice cutting through the silence that had comfortably settled between them like a warm blanket.

“Hmm?” Aiah responded, her lips barely leaving the rim of her coffee cup as she took a slow, leisurely sip, unbothered and perfectly at ease.

“Bakit kayo nagbreak?” Mikha asked, her eyes narrowing into a playful squint as she leaned back into her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, looking every bit like she was about to cross-examine a witness on the stand.

Aiah swallowed hard. She knew this game all too well, knew every turn and trap of it by heart. “Misis ko, away ‘to. Ayoko po ng away,” she said sweetly, though the teasing lilt in her voice made it very clear she wasn’t the least bit afraid of one.

Mikha’s eyes narrowed even further, and the corner of her lips curled up in that dangerously adorable way Aiah secretly loved. “It’s not. Gusto ko lang malaman. Mahal mo pa siguro ’no?” she teased back, rolling her eyes with the kind of dramatic flair that belonged on a stage.

Aiah didn’t even blink. She wasn’t about to let the ball land in Mikha’s court that easily. “Hindi ko na mahal. Ikaw lamang po ang mahal,” she said smoothly, with the confidence of someone who’s already won the argument before it’s even begun. “No no away po, please? Ang cute mo talagang magselos, Misis ko.”

Mikha stuck her tongue out and made a face, scrunching her nose and puffing her cheeks in a way that was honestly far too endearing for Aiah’s heart to handle responsibly. It was childish, yes, undeniably so, but that was precisely what made it so precious. 

There was something quietly vulnerable about the way Mikha let her guard down like this, letting her inner child breathe freely in Aiah’s presence, like she trusted her completely with the softest, silliest parts of herself. It was a piece of Mikha that Aiah wanted to hold onto and treasure forever, carefully and completely.

“Misis ko, be thankful nasa café tayo,” Aiah said, her voice dropping just low enough to carry the weight of the dare as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing near Mikha’s ear with deliberate, unhurried ease, making absolutely sure the words traveled straight down her wife’s spine. “The things I can do to shut you up talaga.”

Then, just before she pulled back, she pressed a warm, lingering kiss to Mikha’s cheek, soft and sure and completely intentional, like a quiet little punctuation mark at the end of a very convincing sentence. 

“Kaya kitang iharap sa lahat ng ex ko at sa buong mundo bilang Misis ko.”

Just like that, it was enough to shut Mikha up, for now.

It would have to be enough for now. 

Although it was more than enough.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

· · ─ ᨒ ོ ☼ ─ · ·

A bleed of past into present…

The day Mikha needed to return to Manila was the day her heart would be left in Cebu. She’d surely leave it there so she’d have a reason to come back to this city she loved. 

When her flight details were announced, it felt like she was being sentenced to a lifetime of imprisonment, because that’s somehow what was waiting for her when the plane landed. She tried so hard not to cry in the crowded airport, not because her heart wasn’t broken, but because if she did let those tears slip away, the person holding her hand wouldn’t let her go anymore.

Aiah.

If she let those tears out, Mikha was pretty sure Aiah would do her absolute best to wipe them all away, and she’d definitely miss her flight, which she was lowkey praying for, but not planning to run away from the circumstances of reality.

If she let those sobs out of her throat, Mikha knew she couldn’t stop crying anymore with all the heavy weight on her system. That she just wanted to cry it all out in Aiah’s arms. That she just wanted to be nestled in Aiah’s taller frame, in that warm embrace.

Mikha knew deep down how much Aiah meant to her long before she could admit it to herself. She knew the hold Aiah had on her system, to the point that she was choking and suffocating, not from the grip, but from the desperate wanting to hold back, to hold onto what she wanted, and to stay.

But she couldn’t.

Right now she couldn’t, she wouldn’t, and she shouldn’t.

Each step she took closer to the boarding gate was a step away from the very reason she wanted to stay.

“Misis ko?”

Mikha’s heart broke when Aiah called her so brokenly with that endearment she loved and wanted to keep hearing, but again, she couldn’t stay.

When she turned back to look at Aiah, she was greeted with Aiah’s yearning eyes. Those profound, yearning eyes she loved to see every morning, the ones that reflected the bright rays of the sun and shimmered like the stars in the night.

Those damn eyes.

Mikha’s heart was beating so loud and fast in that slow motion feel of a moment, anticipating and waiting for something to anchor her there, something that would stop her, and something that would tell her to stay.

“I love you.”

Those damn three words that slipped out of Aiah’s mouth, followed by a grip on her hand and a kiss to it before Aiah let it go slowly without looking back into Mikha’s eyes, and Mikha definitely knew why.

It was a slow glide of fingers before turning away. 

But to Mikha, everything happened so fast that her system failed to register what’d just happened, because it felt like it happened in a heartbeat, like she’d just blinked once and Aiah was already gone from her sight like a devastating illusion. Aiah felt like a ghost haunting her to the core, and all she’d ever wanted to do was make peace with it.

Again, she shouldn’t.

But in truth, Mikha wanted to chase her. She wanted to run and follow the trace of that frame she’d already memorized by heart. 

She wanted to tell Aiah how she felt. She wanted to tell everyone else how much Aiah meant to her. She wanted to be honest. 

She wanted to choose and stay there, with Aiah.

Yet the weight of everything drove her feet toward the place where she’d have to take accountability like the adult she knew she was, and not the immature child they’d claimed and believed her to be.

Now she’s here, standing in front of Sophia, holding that pen that would dictate and maneuver the future toward something she hadn’t really felt was hers anymore. It felt like a written script of a role she’d never signed up for, and deep down, Mikha knew right there and then that she wanted it all to end.

Staring at that divorce paper wasn’t breaking her heart. Instead it was rebuilding it, just by simply staring at Aiah’s beautiful name and signature.

She couldn’t sign it.

She wouldn’t.

She felt the intensity in Sophia’s gaze but she really didn’t care anymore about Sophia and her family’s wealth and power.

If she’d lose it all today, so be it.

If she’d lose everything she’d worked hard for, it’d be fine.

At least, with one last thin thread of hope, she believed she should never lose herself over anything else.

So Mikha put the pen down, leaving her own signature line empty, and quickly glanced at Aiah’s name as she prepared to turn her back and leave the room.

“You’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life, Mikha.”

That’s what Sophia said that made Mikha stop in her tracks and face Sophia again, once more, giving the person she’d devoted herself to for 8 years a flat, tired, and painful smile.

“I already have,” she admitted.

But it’d never been about the choice of leaving Sophia. It was the quiet truth that she’d never really felt loved at all for a long time. That loving Sophia was more like a task she needed to fulfill perfectly rather than a will. That choosing to stay in the relationship had just been easier.

Maybe because it was convenient.

Maybe because someone was planning everything for her.

Maybe because she was just following orders.

Maybe because there’d been a standard operating procedure to do it right, like it was a due process bound by law.

“I already made the biggest mistake of my life by not loving myself. I was too busy emptying myself out just to keep you full.”

There.

That was her truth.

The truth that’d been knocking at her door for so long, the one she’d kept ignoring because again, she shouldn’t feel that way since it wasn’t allowed, it wasn’t right, and she shouldn’t have been feeling it in the first place.

8 years.

From the biggest to even the tiniest detail, every decision Mikha had to make in her life had to be checked, reviewed, and approved by Sophia.

Like she was a kid who needed guidance.

Like she was a child who needed to be nestled and controlled.

Like she didn’t have the ability to be rational, to be radical, and more importantly, like she didn’t have the freedom to simply be herself.

“Wala kang utang na loob, Mikha,” Sophia’s mom said, her voice close to a shout that made Mikha flinch slightly.

“You’re shameless. Hindi ka talaga nag-iisip. Noon pa lang, ganyan ka na!” Sophia’s dad shouted as Mikha took her steps out of that place.

A place that’d been taking her breath every single time she stepped into it, not because it was breathtaking in the best way possible, but quite the opposite. 

The walls of that house had been the very witness to how this family she’d respected lectured her almost every day, and every time she’d visit.

Do this, do that.

Choose this, choose that.

Don’t speak like a brainless idiot.

Never act like an impulsive fool.

Be careful, not careless.

Stay in your lane, know your place.

Those were some of the less painful and lighter reminders from the family that Mikha had learned to tattoo on her brain, ones she’d sometimes repeat to herself like she was reciting the preamble of the Philippines. Like she was memorizing Article III of the 1987 Philippine Constitution, which was the Bill of Rights, which was also ironic because it was something she couldn’t have.

Freedom.

“I honestly don’t understand bakit ikaw ang pinili ng anak ko. You’re careless. You’re impulsive. You’re immature. Your future’s not even that bright,” Sophia’s dad said when he noticed that Mikha kept walking, ignoring his words.

But then Mikha stopped, and she slowly faced the parents who’d lectured and controlled her life more than her own ever had.

“Tinatanong ko rin po ’yan,” Mikha started, a tear leaving her eye. “Sana nga po hindi na lang,” she said with finality, her voice broken, her lips trembling.

Mikha didn’t wait for any response from them as she quickly turned around and hurried her steps, because she couldn’t take it anymore.

Those sharp insults and hurtful words.

Just because they were lawyers, they thought they were always on the right and powerful side.

Just because they had influence, they believed they could always take control of everything.

“Hindi ka naman siguro tanga para hindi maintindihan, diba?”

“May utak ka ba? Kasi parang hindi mo naman ginagamit.”

“Ayoko sa tatanga-tanga. Ayoko sa bobo.”

“Ayusin mo ‘yang sarili mo. You can never be part of this family kung ganyan ka.”

“May utak ka, gamitin mo. If you can’t think of anything, it means you don’t have any.”

“Mikha, may bobo at may tanga. Sa inaasal mo na ‘yan, alin ka sa dalawa?”

Those were just fractions of the painful stabs of words that’d come from Sophia’s family, words she’d sometimes hear from Sophia too. They were shattering enough on their own, but the most devastating of all was the fact that Sophia had never once stood up and spoken up for her, never defended her once, never gotten angry at her family for speaking to Mikha that way.

Never once.

Not even a breath.

That day when she came home to her own parents, all she could do was fall on her knees and cry so hard. Her own parents who’d always been quietly patient, never once pushing Mikha to open up, never once demanding anything from her. 

They’d just been waiting for Mikha to come to them on her own. They’d just been waiting for their Mikmik to come back to them, the Mikmik that was full of life with sparkles in her eyes. Because that version of her had been gone for so long that slowly, they’d chosen to accept and love whatever version of their daughter they had right now.

During her stay in the following days at the home she’d grown up in, her mom cooked her favorite dishes and washed her clothes with her favorite detergent. Her dad fixed her car that needed calibration for a while now and drove her to her scheduled therapy sessions.

Her parents weren’t pressing or pushing her to tell them everything, or even anything at all, but deep down they believed they already knew what was going on. They could feel it, and they’d been witnessing it all along.

In those first weeks, Mikha was always staring blankly ahead, always quiet, and always sobbing painfully in silence.

She flinches at every sudden, loud sound that echoes through the house, even when it comes from her own parents. It does not matter if they are just calling out to her softly to ask if she wants taho in the morning, or letting her know that dinner is ready, or simply announcing that they are finally home from a long day at work. 

The slightest noise sends a jolt of panic through her chest, and her parents notice every single tremor. They see how jumpy she has become, and it breaks their hearts.

She took a month’s leave so she could process everything at once. It felt like there was too much noise and it was drowning her. It felt like everything was crowding her space and she was suffocating.

Day by day she was struggling.

Every night she couldn’t sleep, and if she did she’d sleep lightly or wake up in the middle of the night from a bad dream.

Mikha tried her best to stay present and to keep herself from being pulled back and held down by the past, because she no longer wanted to be a prisoner of somebody else. 

She took her therapy seriously. 

She found new hobbies. 

She learned new skills. 

She tried new things. 

She did anything and chose everything that would help her heal all the wounds she’d gotten from the battles she’d gone through.

Yes, she was the one who’d left and let go of the relationship, but that relationship had been like damaged and broken glass for so long. 

All Mikha had done was bleed trying to hold it, cherish it, and let it cut her. The relationship she’d been trying to save had already been killing and crushing her entire being. The relationship she’d been trying to fix was causing more damage to her than healing.

Cheating was one thing she despised, and it shouldn’t be tolerated. It should never be romanticized, never normalized, and never glorified.

It was never a crown to flaunt.

It was never a badge to wear.

It was never an honorary title.

It was nothing more than a shameful, careless act that no amount of logic could ever explain or justify.

She isn't proud of what she did, especially when the whispers start and the labels stick to her name like a second skin. But back then, when she was gasping for air, she wasn't thinking about the consequences. 

All she could feel was the terrifying weight of sinking, and all she could see was that someone was finally brave enough to jump in and save her from drowning. 

Someone actually stood up for her when she was entirely alone. Someone looked right at her and truly saw the person underneath the surface. 

Someone chose her without asking for anything in return, and she listened to understand her instead of just waiting for their turn to speak. 

For the first time in years, someone was human enough to make her feel like she is a human being too.

But there is a hidden, ugly truth that gets conveniently left out when Sophia tells the story and brands her as a cheater. If everyone wants to stroll down memory lane to find the real villain, they don't have to look very far.

Sophia did it first. 

She didn't just do it once, and she didn't just do it twice.

Mikha actually lost count of the times she walked into the office only to find Sophia kissing someone else's lips right against the desk. She lost count of the times she had to witness Sophia openly flirting with the other lawyers in the firm, watching from across the room as Sophia leaned just a little too close to them. She had to sit there and force herself to stay quiet while Sophia got comfortable with another person's hand resting on her body. 

Every single time Sophia packed her bags for an overseas business conference, Mikha's chest would tighten with an agonizing anxiety. She knew the reality behind those trips. She knew Sophia spent the nights wrapped up in someone else's arms and woke up in someone else's bed the next morning.

Mikha swallowed every bit of that bitter medicine and pushed it all aside. She forced herself to believe the lies she spun in her own head, convincing herself that it is all just part of the high-stakes job and that those intimate acts are just professionals being professional.

Of course, Sophia and her entire family of smooth-talking lawyers backed up that nightmare with cold, rational reasoning. They twisted the narrative to make it sound logical, claiming it is simply the exploration of a young woman trying to find herself. They said she is just checking her options, that she is just a kid who is still learning how the world works.

Bullshit, isn’t it?

Definitely stupid.

Absolutely pathetic.

There were desperate times where all she ever wanted was to run to Aiah, but she didn’t.

She didn’t want Aiah to be the one suffering just because she was hurting, broken, and damaged. She didn’t want Aiah to be on the receiving end, or to be an emotional punching bag for all the traumas she’d been harboring.

She didn’t want to cause any inconvenience to Aiah’s carefree life. She didn’t want Aiah to carry the burden for her, because Aiah never deserved to lift that weight. She didn’t want Aiah to absorb her emotions when Aiah’s own life was so full of life.

She would never do that.

She could never be like that.

So she chose to love herself first and more. She chose healing and chose to keep going, not entirely for Aiah, but for herself and for the family who’d been there for her even in silence.

It wasn’t an easy journey, and it never was.

It was never a linear phase.

Mikha chose to go through it all before she finally decided to go back to the place where she had left her heart, the place she’d promised herself she would return to.

“Ito ba, bossing?” Maloi asked as she stepped inside Mikha’s office.

Mikha lifted her gaze and looked at Maloi’s tablet, then nodded. “Settle the deal for me, please,” she said firmly.

“Bossing ang mahal nito, sure k—” Maloi started, but she wasn’t able to finish when Mikha mumbled something that didn’t quite reach her end.

“Mas mahal ko…”

“Ha? Ano ‘yun? Gora na?” Maloi asked again, still surprised by the amount she was seeing on the property estate’s details.

Mikha nodded again. “Also, tell her I’m a sure buyer. Tell her I’m willing to meet as soon as possible,” she added, looking back to the workload she’d been getting through.

“Her?” Maloi asked, brows lifting with a small smirk on her lips.

Mikha hummed in response and nodded, trying to multitask. She’d finally found her footing back to her regular programming after more than a month of agony, and now it’d been almost three months.

“Bossing, paano mo naman nalaman na ‘her’ ’yung nagbebenta ng bahay?” Maloi asked, a playful accusation hanging in her tone as she suppressed her smile, especially when her boss lifted her eyes.

“I assumed lang, bakit ba?” Mikha bantered back, her ears already going red. “Go na. Busy ako, marami tayong pending workloads,” she said, trying so hard not to look directly at Maloi’s teasing gaze.

“Oww… kayyy…” Maloi sang out in a playful, drawn out tone. “Her pala ah, mukhang may susundan sa Cebu,” she said with a little squeal, but then stopped like she’d just realized something.

Mikha looked at her with one eyebrow raised, somewhere between annoyed and waiting, because Maloi’s unnecessary comments and weird thoughts were sometimes helpful and most of the time weren’t.

“Or… baka naman may babalikan,” Maloi squealed again and giggled, bouncing slightly as she got dramatic with her words.

Mikha rolled her eyes and shooed Maloi completely out of her office, and the moment she was gone, Mikha couldn’t help it anymore. She couldn’t hide the smile forming on her lips.

Thinking about ‘her’.

Then her office door swung open again.

“Yiieee, nakita ko ‘yun!” Maloi teased, somehow squealing even louder as she called Mikha out for smiling so wide.

“Get ou—” Mikha wasn’t able to finish.

“Ciao, inlababoss babe!” Maloi even waved her hand and slammed the office door behind her like she wasn’t scared of getting fired any moment.

The next day.

Maloi didn’t knock, which made Mikha jolt on her chair. She was holding the tablet with an unreadable expression.

“Can you knock?” Mikha said to her.

Maloi only looked at her like she was having trouble inside her head and didn’t know how to get the words out.

“What? What is it?” Mikha asked, getting worried.

Maloi exhaled. “May malaki tayong problema,” she said, exhaling deeply again. “Bad news,” she added as she gently put the tablet down, showing Mikha their exchange of conversations with the property seller.

When Mikha saw it all laid out, that they’d settled it, that the seller was willing to meet as soon as possible, as soon as tomorrow, she couldn’t help but smile.

“Anong bad news dito?” Mikha asked, genuinely confused.

Maloi cried dramatically without a single tear, which was something Mikha had gotten used to by now. She just watched Maloi do her whole production, her dramatic dialogues coming out of nowhere like they always did.

“Mawawalan ako ng bossing? Wala ka bang awa? Paano naman ako? Paano na lang ’yung mga trabaho natin na kinakailangan ang iyong presensiyang pisikal?” Maloi said like she was headlining her own teleserye.

“Si OA…” Mikha said, shaking her head, eyes still on the seller’s sent messages while Maloi kept talking to the air beside her.

“Swipe mo,” Maloi said all of a sudden.

Mikha looked at her, confused.

“Swipe mo nga,” Maloi said, crossing her arms.

When Mikha swiped the screen, she was taken straight to another opened app, the gallery. The moment she read the context of the screenshot in front of her, she lifted her gaze back to Maloi. It was a flight details and a confirmed meeting for tomorrow in Cebu.

“Go get your wife back.”

As those words landed, Mikha couldn’t help but stand and pull Maloi into a hug. “Thank you,” she murmured, tears already shimmering in her eyes.

Mikha didn’t know how Maloi had figured out that it was her wife she was going back to Cebu for, but probably because Maloi could sense things underneath the surface. Probably because Maloi had been witnessing her through her darkest moments, the ones where she’d type out a message and never send it, where she’d stare at a number and never call it.

“Ang arte!” Maloi said as she pulled away. “Punasan mo nga ’yang uhog mo. Kadiri! Pagkakabargas naman,” she said, stepping back with a look of complete disgust.

Mikha wiped her nose and her tears and laughed at the same time.

Maloi took her tablet and was about to step out when she stepped back dramatically, her head snapping back to her boss. “Hoy, utang ’yan ah. Babayaran mo ’yan,” she said, then slammed the door again.

Mikha just laughed at that as she shook her head, staring at her office door, her mind already in Cebu.

The moment Mikha set her foot back in Cebu, it felt like the city itself was embracing and welcoming her home. She took a cab that drove her to the Arceta family house, and when the door opened, Aiah’s mother was so happy to see her that she called out to everyone inside that Mikha was there.

“Alam ba ni Yang?” Aiah’s mother asked softly.

Mikha only shook her head.

“Wala si Yangyang dito ngayon eh. Nandoon sa bahay niyo, may nakabili na raw kasi,” Aiah’s father chimed in, his tone going sad especially on the last part, like he was delivering bad news.

Mikha chuckled, which made Aiah’s family exchange confused looks, but their faces lit right up with her next words.

“Ako po ’yung bibili ng bahay namin,” she said, smiling so wide that tears were already threatening to spill.

Everyone squealed like they’d just witnessed a miracle, and they couldn’t help but celebrate.

Then they came up with a very big plan to keep Mikha’s arrival a secret for the rest of the day, and nobody was to call or answer Aiah’s calls. 

The parents drove Mikha over themselves, hugging her, thanking her, and cheering her on all the way there.

“Sunggaban mo kapag ayaw, hindi papalag ‘yon!” Aiah’s father told Mikha firmly, which made her laugh.

“Kung hindi mo madaan sa santong dasalan, halikan mo,” Aiah’s mom chimed in.

Mikha laughed. “Hindi po yata ganun ’yon, pero sige po,” she said as she wiped the happy tears from the corners of her eyes.

After a moment, Mikha stepped out of the family car and waved to her in-laws. Then she steadied her breath. Her red hair was being blown by the wind as she looked at Aiah’s parked BMW X5, the same one where Aiah had once held her fidgeting hand. She was so deep in her thoughts that she only pulled her eyes away when she sensed a presence behind her.

Aiah.

Mikha swore to God the world slowed down, or maybe it stopped altogether. She could literally hear wedding bells as she met Aiah’s yearning gaze.

At last, Mikha was able to breathe again, because she’d been missing and wanting to see that beautiful face for so long. The long wait was over. She could finally love the woman who was worth everything and anything in this world.

· · ─ ᨒ ོ ☼ ─ · ·

Mikha had settled into Cebu, into their home, into a life she genuinely hadn’t known was possible for her. 

Working from home, far from the pressure, far from the noise and the pace she’d spent years thinking was just how living felt. 

Aiah worked from home too, occasionally making rounds to check on warehouses and production, sitting through business meetings here and there, but most of the time she was simply there, fully and without distraction, a wife in the most present and deliberate sense of the word.

But there are moments where they couldn't even be in each other's arms because their demanding professions and careers need them in the fast-paced business world. 

There are times that Mikha sometimes needs to report to the corporate office in Manila for an entire week, especially for the tight management of internal teams handling massive, high-profile clients. 

During those grueling days, they just talk to one another via FaceTime whenever it's humanly possible and if their schedules happen to be free. 

In a cruel twist of perfect timing, Aiah's presence is often simultaneously needed overseas to meet with potential investors or to expand connections to widen and build a stronger foundation for her growing brand.

It's an absolute dilemma, but neither of them is ever childish enough to go nagging or throwing tantrums about a hectic schedule or a missed promise of a phone call late at night. 

They both deeply understand that before their partners existed in their lives, they had their own separate careers, and professional growth shouldn't be and will never be a hindrance or a reason for their arguments. 

But they'd never lie when they tell the world that they always miss each other's presence, especially when they have to be away from one another for too long, which is honestly longer than a single week if we're talking about the actual duration.

There's this one unforgettable moment they share when Aiah had to attend an important business conference in Singapore, and Mikha had to stay behind in Manila to be physically present for a make-or-break presentation with their biggest client.

They both succeed in their individual agendas completely apart from each other, and missing one another during the process is as natural as breathing.

"Good job, Boss babe Lim!"

Maloi cheered enthusiastically as she high-fived her boss, chatting a little bit about the presentation before she finally stepped out of the room to give Mikha some space to breathe and to truly take in the massive success of landing the biggest client of her entire career.

Mikha automatically dialed Aiah's phone number to share the amazing news with her right away, but sadly, to her complete surprise, the call wasn't going through. She understood the situation completely, knowing Aiah was likely in the middle of something equally important on her trip, so she just typed out a sweet text message instead.

Misis ko, we made it!

Let's celebrate when you get home.

I miss you so bad.

Then Mikha hit send, stood up from her desk to remove her heavy blazer, and walked over to stand right outside the massive glass window, looking at the distant clouds while mumbling soft words to herself.

"I miss you, Misis ko."

Those were the exact moments she let out as she exhaled a long, heavy breath, and it seemed like she completely became deaf to her immediate surroundings while thinking about her wife.

"I miss you more, Misis ko."

A sudden, familiar voice echoed through the room, making Mikha's head snap instantly to where it came from. There, standing right inside her office, was the exact wife she'd been missing for days already.

It was Aiah.

Mikha moved without a single second thought, quickly running as fast as she could toward Aiah's wide-open arms, completely ignoring the fact that Aiah was holding a stunning bouquet of red carnations for her wife.

As Mikha launched her entire body into Aiah's figure, her tears slipped freely down her cheeks like a child who'd been lost for way too long. 

Aiah managed to catch her securely, hugging her tight with one strong arm and burying her face deeply into the crook of Mikha's neck, despite her other hand still awkwardly holding the big, beautiful flower arrangement.

"Namiss ba ako ng Misis ko na ‘yan?" Aiah asked softly, although it sounded incredibly playful even though it really wasn't.

Aiah felt Mikha nod her head eagerly against her shoulder, and she tried to hug Mikha even tighter, greedily inhaling the familiar scent she'd missed so desperately for the last grueling days they'd been apart.

"Sobrang namiss ko ang Misis ko na ‘yan," Mikha said, mimicking Aiah's exact tone as she spoke, laughing and crying at the exact same time as she finally pulled away slightly.

Aiah laughed out loud at how Mikha mocked and mimicked her, but she found the gesture absolutely endearing. She couldn't help herself from smiling the biggest grin and from leaning down to give her adorable, emotional wife a sweet, lingering kiss right there in the office.

When they finally pulled away from each other, Aiah proudly held out the vibrant red carnations toward her wife, her eyes glowing with unfiltered admiration.

"Surprise! Congratulations, Misis ko. I'm so proud of you," Aiah said, her voice dropping into a tender whisper as Mikha took the heavy bouquet into her arms. 

Aiah immediately leaned down to accommodate Mikha's smaller height, pressing a soft, lingering kiss right onto her wife's forehead, right at that perfect, custom-made angle they both loved so much.

"Thank you, Misis ko. How was your conference in Singapore?" Mikha asked, her fingertips gently brushing against the precious, vulnerable petals of the flowers as she looked up with genuine curiosity.

"Boring," Aiah declared without a single shred of hesitation. Before Mikha could even question it, Aiah gently guided her toward the office couch, sitting down first and effortlessly pulling Mikha right onto her lap.

Mikha chuckled softly as she settled down onto the comfortable, familiar perch of Aiah's lap, setting the large bouquet down on the cushion next to them so she could wrap her arms around her wife's shoulders. 

"That's a new one, coming from a certified workaholic like you. Since when is expanding your business boring?"

Aiah chuckled, tightening her arms around Mikha's waist to hold her as close as humanly possible. "You weren't there po kasi, Misis ko," she admitted truthfully. 

She buried her face deeply into the crook of Mikha's neck, completely resting her head there like a tired puppy who'd finally made it back home.

Mikha leaned into the cozy contact, her fingers automatically finding their way into Aiah's soft brown hair, gently caressing the strands to soothe away the exhaustion of the international flight.

"Everything feels completely boring kaya without you around," Aiah mumbled softly against Mikha's skin, tightening her hold even further as if she'd disappear if she let go. 

Mikha couldn't help but smile, her heart doing a happy little flip at her wife's unfiltered, sweet honesty.

"Kumain ka na ba? Hmm? Do you want something to eat?" Mikha asked softly, her thumb blindly caressing Aiah's cheek as she swayed them side to side in a lazy hug.

Aiah pulled away gently at the mention of food, and an obvious, mischievous smirk was already plastered all over her lips. She looked directly into Mikha's eyes, her hand suddenly shifting to grip her wife's thigh with a bit of playful pressure.

"P‘wede bang ikaw?" Aiah asked in a deeply playful tone, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Mikha squinted her eyes, her tired brain not really catching exactly what Aiah meant by the sudden question. "P‘wede bang ako ang alin?" she asked, looking completely and utterly clueless.

"Ang kainin?" Aiah clarified immediately, her smile growing even more foolish and proud of itself as she continued to wiggle her eyebrows, teasing her wife with absolutely zero shame.

Meanwhile, the wife in question instantly processed the joke and began blushing in sheer panic. Her pale cheeks flared into a bright, sudden crimson.

"Ewan ko sa‘yo!" Mikha squeaked, carefully scrambling off Aiah's lap to stand up, desperately avoiding the very idea. 

She immediately started overthinking, wildly scanning the room as if someone might've magically materialized through the walls to hear them. 

It wasn't that she really cared about the opinions of others, but she was simply way too shy when it came to talking out loud about their sex life, even though she knew deep down that she and Aiah had been incredibly active, passionate, and intimately connected with one another since day one.

Aiah burst out laughing, and the beautiful, booming sound of her amusement echoed loudly around Mikha's office. She watched with absolute glee as Mikha practically bolted toward her executive desk to grab her phone, pretending to be very busy trying to order actual food for herself and her ever-naughty, deeply whipped wife.

Maximizing their precious time here in Manila together before heading back home to Cebu, they decided it was the perfect moment to visit Mikha's family.

"Kinakabahan ka?" Mikha asked gently as she parked the car right in front of the massive wrought-iron gate. 

She reached over to unbuckle her own seatbelt before leaning across the console to smoothly unclick Aiah's as well, playing the part of the perfect, attentive driver.

At this point in their relationship, they were honestly just trying to outdo each other's efforts and love languages, though definitely not in a toxic, competitive way. It's just that they're both so deeply in love that they're unconsciously always wanting to return the favor of feeling loved and being loved in all aspects of life, turning even a simple car ride into an affectionate showcase.

Aiah didn't respond right away, remaining completely still as she tried to steady her uneven breath in the passenger seat. 

Noticing the sudden tension, Mikha reached out across the space to cradle Aiah's hand, lifting it up to her lips to press a warm, gentle kiss against her knuckles.

"I'm here, Misis ko," Mikha said softly, her voice an absolute balm as her thumb slowly traced lines over Aiah's skin, holding her wife's anxious gaze with unwavering certainty.

"What if they don't like me?" Aiah asked in a rare, incredibly small and anxious voice that felt completely foreign coming from her.

“I doubt that,” Mikha reassured her. “I’m sure they will love you as much as I love you, Misis ko.”

Somehow, those words were enough to silence the bubbling anxiety in Aiah’s head. 

It was a genuinely rare sighting for anyone to see Aiah lose her signature composure and her usual effortless cool. But of course, this was an incredibly big deal. It was Mikha's family, and this is the exact first time that they'd be visiting the entire clan together after all the major happenings and milestones in their shared life. 

It wasn't that they didn't want to visit sooner, but they wanted to find the absolute right and perfect timing when everyone's presence would be accounted for. 

Mikha was making sure that everyone, as in literally every single member of the family, would finally get to meet her wonderful wife.

The perfect occasion happened to be Mikha's grandmother's milestone 90th birthday, and absolutely everyone from the extended family was expected to be here. Even the relatives living far away across the sea were anticipated to make an appearance, turning the gathering into a massive, high-stakes family reunion.

They walked hand in hand, their fingers tightly intertwined as they entered the gates of the sprawling ancestral house, a property that was easily big enough and old enough to be officially treated as a historical landmark.

"Happy Birthday po, Lola," Mikha greeted her grandmother loudly, leaning close to the old woman's ear since her hearing had grown a bit weak over the years.

The old woman smiled warmly at the sound of her granddaughter's voice, but as she turned her head, she squinted her eyes slightly at the tall, striking woman standing right beside Mikha.

"Sophia?" the grandmother asked.

It was clearly a confused question and a completely wrong interpretation of who she was looking at, born entirely out of pure, failing eyesight because of her advanced age, instantly breaking the heavy tension in the room and setting the stage for a classic family introduction.

Aiah was taken aback by the sudden name drop, but she maintained her graceful smile as she leaned down to correct the old woman politely. "Aiah po," she said softly but clearly, right next to the grandmother's ear.

Mikha's hand instantly found its way to Aiah's waist, rubbing soothing circles there to let her know that she was right by her side to back her up. 

Aiah just glanced down and gave Mikha a small, tight smile, the kind of smile that Mikha swore to God she'd do anything to erase from her wife's mind as quickly as possible.

"Lola, si Aiah po. Asawa ko po," Mikha introduced again, raising her voice just enough to settle into her grandmother's mind over the background noise.

"Aiah? Sinong Aiah? Si Sophia?" the grandmother asked one more time for clarification, clearly not hearing everything clearly despite her hearing aid, especially with the loud party music and the heavy chitchatting of the relatives echoing all around the room.

Aiah smiled right through the unwelcomed and unwanted pinch of pain she felt in her chest, trying her absolute best to compose herself after what just happened. She clearly understood the situation, but then again, understanding a situation doesn't mean you're completely free from the sting of it.

Mikha was just about to lean down again toward her grandmother's ear to reiterate the introduction when a sudden voice spoke up from the side.

"Mikha..."

When Mikha and Aiah snapped their heads toward that overly familiar voice, it only made Aiah's unwelcomed feelings grow quietly in the corner of her mind.

Sophia.

Mikha immediately looked away after giving Sophia a single, incredibly brief nod, turning her full attention back to her grandmother to hand over her and Aiah's birthday gift.

Aiah, however, looked directly at Sophia. She watched and she witnessed how Sophia's lingering gaze stayed glued to Mikha, observing how she took a long, second look at her wife, who was very clearly uninterested in her ex's presence anymore. 

But this heavy feeling Aiah felt, a sharp mix of jealousy built on a sudden wave of insecurity, was almost too much to bear and far too suffocating to give a voice to in the middle of a family party.

Mikha noticed the tiny, telltale tremors in Aiah's frame and immediately tiptoed slightly to cupped Aiah's cheeks with both hands, completely uncaring of whichever family members were watching them.

"Misis ko, Maraiah Queen. Makinig ka. Ikaw ang gusto ko. Ikaw ang mahal ko. Wala nang iba. Hmm?"

Those words worked like absolute magic. 

Those words felt like an instant, total healing to all the anxious tremors that Aiah was feeling at that exact moment.

Aiah smiled softly, her posture relaxing completely as she kissed the palm of Mikha's hand. "Opo. Thank you, Misis ko," she said, instantly returning to her usual composed, confident, and radiant self.

Then, right in front of whoever happened to be looking, and especially right in front of Sophia who was absolutely watching their every move, Mikha stood high on her tiptoes again. She encircled her arms securely around Aiah's neck and kissed her wife softly and quickly on the lips before they both broke out into matching, giggling smiles. They were clearly not bothered by whose eyes were on them anymore.

"Misis ko?" Aiah called out, her mouth inches away from Mikha's ear as they began walking hand in hand toward the other family members across the room.

"Po?" Mikha asked softly, leaning her head closer to Aiah so she could hear what she was about to say over the crowd.

When Mikha leaned closer, Aiah smiled wide before dropping the words she wanted to say. "Sa akin lang ang tingin ha. May kalaban," Aiah said playfully, though if she's being totally honest, she really meant at least half of it.

Mikha stopped dead in her tracks, chuckling softly as she gave Aiah a massive smile. She tried to open her eyes as wide as humanly possible, expanding her naturally foxy eyes until they were practically dinner plates, a hilarious sight that made Aiah's heart laugh out loud.

"Kita mo po, Misis ko? Sa‘yo lang po nakatingin," Mikha said, her eyes watering because she'd been forcing herself not to blink for so long just to prove her point.

"Look at me. Ito na po, sa‘yo na po nakatingin, hindi sa kalaban," Mikha added, looking completely ridiculous but successfully lightening the heavy load in Aiah's heart.

Aiah reached out to wipe the gathering moisture from Mikha's eyes, while Mikha wiped away Aiah's happy tears too before she spoke again, her tone shifting into something incredibly serious.

"Misis ko, mula n’ung naging sa‘yo ako, wala ka nang kalaban at wala ka nang kaagaw," Mikha said softly, delivering the words deliberately and letting them land like a soft, permanent blow to ensure Aiah would never doubt her place again.

"Everyone... I want you all to meet my wife, Maraiah Queen Arceta-Lim."

That was the exact introduction Mikha delivered to the entire crowded room, and it instantly swept every single bit of air right out of Aiah's lungs.

She wasn't ready for that at all.

It wasn't that she didn't want to be formally introduced to the clan, but it was the breathtaking fact that Mikha smoothly added the 'Lim' to her surname as if it'd been right there all along. She said it like it was the most natural thing on earth, and like Aiah truly belonged to the very family that owned the name.

Aiah looked down at Mikha dearly, her vision blurring with a fresh layer of shimmering tears that she tried her best to blink away. 

Mikha was just standing there holding her waist tightly, looking up at her with a warm, unfiltered adoration that made it seem as if Aiah was the one who personally hung all the bright stars in the sky.

But Aiah didn't even have a single second to fully process the beautiful weight of that introduction because Mikha's massive family instantly swarmed over her. 

They crowded around the couple in an excited blur, eagerly greeting her, talking over one another, and showing that they were all very much interested in her presence as they welcomed her into the family fold with open arms.

"Pasensiya ka na sa Lola niyo ha," Mikha's mother said softly to Aiah as she gently took Aiah's hand in her own, her eyes filled with a warm, apologetic comfort. "She's old na rin kasi, her eyes and memory aren't what they used to be, but please know that you're so welcome here ha, Aiah. You're officially a part of the family now."

Those beautiful, welcoming words almost made Aiah tear up right then and there on the spot.

Mikha wasn't around to witness the sweet moment because she'd just excused herself a few minutes ago to use the restroom, leaving Aiah alone with her mother-in-law.

"Alam mo..." Mikha's mother started again as she gently let go of Aiah's hand, though her expression softened into something deeply emotional. "I've never seen our Mikmik this genuinely happy before in her entire life. Ngayon lang."

Aiah paused to look at Mikha's mom, completely captivated by the older woman's sincerity. She didn't interrupt, choosing instead to just stand there listening while her heart grew unbelievably full.

Mikha's mom continued, letting her gaze wander over to the empty hallway where her daughter had disappeared. "Before you came into her life, alam mo ba palaging lang siyang tahimik, like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders and always thinking deeply about something. Pero ngayon, seeing her with you, she's just so full of life."

Aiah couldn't open her mouth to speak because she felt like words weren't really needed at all, her emotional silence saying everything her heart wanted to express.

Mikha's mom turned back to her, a small, tearful smile gracing her lips as she delivered her final thoughts. "Thank you so much, Aiah, for giving us back our Mikmik. Thank you for making her feel alive, happy, and so beautifully in love."

Aiah didn't even try to hide the single, stray tear that fell from her eyes upon hearing Mikha's mother's words. It felt like a gentle hand was squeezing her heart with an overwhelming amount of love, even though she didn't really know what grand thing she'd done to deserve being thanked like this. 

All she truly knew, and all she'd ever cared about, was that she loved Mikha the exact way she deserved to be loved, and the exact way Mikha's heart had always wanted to be cherished.

In the restroom, the quiet hum of the running water was the only sound echoing off the tiles.

As Mikha washed her hands, someone's presence stepped inside the room, obviously waiting for the exact right moment when Mikha wasn't being held safely in Aiah's arms.

It was Sophia.

Mikha noticed her in the mirror, but she didn't pay any mind to her at all. Everything between them was already settled in the past, and she had absolutely no business to deal with her ex-girlfriend anymore. 

She just wanted to be completely civil and casual about all this. She knew Sophia's family was still being invited by hers to big celebrations like this since their dads had become really close friends over the years, and that's really all there was to it.

Sophia spoke up, her voice cutting through the silence of the restroom. "So, you really chose to settle down with the woman you cheated with, Mikha? Is this your version of a happy ending?"

Mikha didn't respond to the accusation at all, keeping her composure as she calmly grabbed a tissue to wipe her hands. She was about to make a quiet exit when Sophia suddenly stepped directly into her path, blocking the doorway.

Sophia spoke again, her eyes narrowing as she looked Mikha up and down. "You know, some of your relatives out there are actually saying that Aiah and I look alike. Isn't that hilarious?"

It was pure, unadulterated sarcasm. The bitter tone was something deeply bothersome to Mikha's system, acting like an instant trigger to the heavy traumas she'd spent so much time trying to heal from.

Sophia spoke again, leaning in closer with a cruel smirk. "Tell me, Mikha, did you choose her just because she’s adventurous and I'm not? Because Aiah's full of life and I'm always too serious? Or is it probably because Aiah's just that much better in bed or—"

She wasn't able to finish her sentence when Mikha abruptly cut her off, her voice shaking but firm. "Stop it, Sophia."

Sophia's tone spiked even higher, her anger finally breaking through her calm facade. "No, I won't stop! Because until now, I'm still trying to understand how in the hell you could cheat on me and choose that woman. How could you settle down so quickly with her when you couldn't even fully commit to me?"

Mikha couldn't respond to the shouting at all, feeling as if she were suddenly being pulled backward in time to the toxic life she used to live when she was still a part of Sophia's world. 

It felt like everyday of her life back then, where she was always facing a harsh verdict in a courtroom where she could never defend herself anymore. 

All she could do in this moment was to step backward, her frame trembling as she began to fidget with her fingers and bite her trembling lips while hot tears spilled out of her eyes without intending to.

Sophia seemed to be completely taken aback witnessing Mikha have a sudden panic attack like that right in front of her. 

Panic flashed in her own eyes, and she quickly stepped closer, reaching out to touch the very woman she'd stabbed with sharp, venomous words just moments earlier. She tried to force Mikha into a tight embrace, desperately wrapping her arms around her trembling shoulders.

"Hey, hey, shh, please don't cry, babe, I’m so sorry," Sophia pleaded, her voice cracking with a sudden, suffocating wave of desperation as she clutched Mikha closer. "I didn't mean it, okay? Please, just calm down for me, babe, look at me."

Mikha just kept shaking, her breath hitching wildly as she tried to pull away from the unwanted contact, but Sophia's grip only tightened as she completely lost her mind.

"Please, Mikha, just hear me out," Sophia sobbed out, her words rushing out in a frantic, unhinged mess between heavy pauses. "Come back to me, please? I will change, I swear I will. I will be so much better for you this time, babe. I'll do everything right, just please, please leave her and come back home to me. I want you back… please. I miss you. Please, come back to me."

"No..." Mikha muttered weakly, shaking her head frantically as she covered her eyes, trying to block out the suffocating reality around her while she cried.

"Listen, babe," Sophia pleaded, her voice cracking as she kept trying to force her way back into Mikha's shattered space. "You... you will leave that woman. You will come back to me. Okay? I... I'll be better this time, I swear," she said, the sheer desperation bleeding out of her with every ragged breath.

Mikha was still trembling violently, breathing heavily in short, suffocating gasps as her chest heaved. Her sobs echoed painfully against the bathroom walls while her knees completely weakened beneath her weight, making them both slide down to the cold tile floor. 

Sophia refused to let go, still holding her tight, still trying to anchor Mikha to a past that had already burned to the ground.

"I'm here, babe... I'm here," Sophia whispered frantically, holding onto her tightly while her own tears spilled down her face.

"Aiah..."

The exact moment that name left Mikha's lips, whispered desperately and weakly into the empty air, was the only time Sophia felt like she was being splashed with a bucket of ice-cold water. 

It sounded like Mikha was begging anyone or anything in the universe who could hear her to just give her Aiah's presence right now. 

It sounded like she was repeating Aiah's name over and over like a sacred prayer in her desperation.

Sophia just sat there on the floor, staring blankly at Mikha's trembling figure while holding her, completely holding her breath at the same time as the painful realization began to settle in.

"Misis ko?"

Aiah's voice echoed from a distance, sounding so soft that it seemed like Sophia was the only one who actually heard it, especially since Mikha was completely drowning in the terrifying depths of her own panic attack.

"Misis ko?"

The second time the phrase was called out, the restroom door swung wide open and revealed Aiah standing on the threshold.

When Aiah dropped her eyes to the heartbreaking sight on the floor, she didn't misinterpret things for even a single second. She moved quickly, her focus instantly locking onto Mikha and completely bypassing everything else.

"Move," Aiah said to Sophia, her voice dropping into a register that wasn't a request at all, but a dangerous command and a lethal warning wrapped into one.

Sophia didn't move an inch at first, stubbornly trying to hold onto Mikha just a little bit tighter, even as Mikha's agonizing sobs echoed in her ears like a terrible, melancholy melody.

Aiah slowly fell to her knees right on the hard tile, ready to reach out to her suffering wife. Her heart was breaking into a million pieces at the sight, and her jaw locked tight, not because Sophia's arms were wrapped around Mikha, but because she was witnessing the raw, unfiltered agony of Mikha's tears. 

That was exactly what was breaking Aiah's heart and making her so furious that she could do absolutely anything and everything right now to stop it.

"I said, move," Aiah repeated herself, her tone shifting into something much more deep, dark, and deathly cold, like an inner demon was only seconds away from breaking out of its cage.

That was the exact moment when Sophia's grip finally failed her, and she slowly loosened her hold on Mikha. She slowly moved her hands away, pulling herself back from Mikha's trembling, broken figure as the weight of the room crashed down on her. 

Sophia sat back, desperately trying to understand how in the hell she was currently witnessing the very trauma that she had carefully and systematically inflicted on Mikha during their time together. 

She scrambled to understand why she was supposedly the victim of this damn cheating scenario, yet it felt completely like she was the villain in the story. She stared at her shaking hands, trying to understand or to even remember when and how she'd ever done that kind of deep, psychological trauma to the woman she claimed to love so much.

Aiah didn't think twice the very second Sophia finally moved away. "Misis ko..." she called out softly as she carefully reached out her hands toward her crying wife.

When Mikha flinched at the sudden touch, Aiah's heart broke into even smaller pieces, but she quickly swallowed all the sharp pain rising in her throat as her wife needed her more than anything right now.

Aiah carefully and slowly touched Mikha's hands that were still covering her eyes, continuously calling out her name like she was trying to guide her out of a deep, dark trance.

"Misis ko, I'm here... it's me," Aiah whispered, her voice steady but full of deep emotion.

Distant footsteps from the hallway came closer to the restroom door, but Aiah didn't pay any attention to the noise outside. Her entire focus stayed locked on her wife on the floor.

"Misis ko?" Aiah tried again as she finally managed to gently hold Mikha's hand, slowly pulling it away from her eyes so she could see her. She made sure not to crowd Mikha's personal space, pouring every single bit of gentleness she had in her soul into this very moment.

When their eyes finally met, Aiah gave her a sweet smile even though her own tears spilled down her cheeks at the exact same time.

"Aiah..." Mikha said weakly, her voice barely a whisper.

"Po? Misis ko?" Aiah responded so softly as she slowly and carefully reached out to wipe the tears from Mikha's face, gently scooting closer to her wife on the cold tiles.

Every single movement was incredibly careful. 

Every single touch was wrapped in pure gentleness.

The exact moment Mikha fully realized that it was really Aiah sitting right in front of her, she moved desperately to wrap her arms tightly around Aiah's neck. She sobbed brokenly into her shoulder, and Aiah was instantly there to reciprocate the tight embrace. She enveloped Mikha's small frame completely, holding her like she was protecting her from everything and everyone in the world, because she really was.

"I'm here, Misis ko," Aiah murmured over and over, soothing her wife with an endless amount of tenderness and patience, completely unbothered by the cold floor beneath them.

Sophia was still sitting there on the tiles, staring unblinking at the heartbreaking sight of the two of them. She was still desperately trying to understand how Aiah's mere presence could act like an instant healing medicine to Mikha. She was still trying to understand how someone's presence could even work like that in real life. 

She sat there trying to understand what kind of deep love they shared, and as she thought about it, she couldn't stop herself from comparing it to the toxic love she knew and used to believe was real love.

"I think you need to leave right now," someone spoke firmly from the distance, and though Aiah kept her eyes on her wife, she was absolutely certain the voice belonged to Mikha's father.

Someone responded and scoffed loudly, a man's voice cutting through the heavy air as Sophia's father stepped forward to defend his daughter. "Are you seriously tolerating your daughter's shameful acts of cheating? You're actually standing up for Mikha and her mistress in front of everyone?"

Aiah just listened to the harsh words echoing in the small room, trying her best not to pay much attention to the scene, but her heart still broke slightly at the cruel labels used against her.

Mikha's father spoke again, this time his voice dropping into a dangerous, immovable firmness that left no room for argument. "Aiah isn't Mikha's mistress, she's my daughter's wife, and if you have a problem with that, then we have a problem, Atty. You'll just need to pass through me first, I'll protect my daughter's happiness with everything I've got, even if this entire matter reaches the court."

Aiah looked slightly to the side through her tears, watching as Sophia's father roughly helped his crying daughter to stand up, forcing her toward the exit and pulling her away out of this place for good. 

Meanwhile, Mikha's father didn't even spare them another glance, turning his soft, worried eyes only toward Mikha as the doorway finally cleared.

Mikha's dad looked down at Aiah with a heavy sigh, his expression full of deep regret as he apologized for the entire scene. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Aiah, please forgive us. I promise you that it'll never happen again," he said softly, his voice full of protective warmth.

Aiah didn't respond with words right away, but she gave him a small nod of appreciation before pulling away slightly to wipe her wife's fresh tears with the pads of her thumbs. 

She began to shush her gently, whispering sweet words to calm her wife’s racing heart, and offering her full, undivided presence to the woman she loves more than life itself.

Mikha was still sobbing against her chest, but the heavy sounds were much quieter now as she began to find her breath on the floor. She looked up at Aiah with a broken expression and began to say that she's incredibly sorry. "I'm sorry, Misis ko," she sobbed out weakly.

Aiah knitted her brows together in confusion, her heart squeezing painfully as she asked why her wife was even apologizing. "Why are you saying sorry, Misis ko? You didn't do anything wrong," she murmured softly, her eyes filled with nothing but pure adoration.

Mikha shook her head, her voice cracking as she tried to explain the guilt weighing on her chest. "I'm sorry she touched me, but I swear I never liked it at all po, Misis ko," she explained frantically, desperate for her wife to know the absolute truth.

Aiah felt a tear slip down her own cheek, and she immediately cut off the painful words by hugging Mikha tightly against her body again. 

"It's okay. I know everything and I'm not mad at you at all. I love you so much. I'm still here and I'm not going anywhere," she whispered into Mikha's hair, holding her close until the last of the panic completely melted away.

Later that night, the absolute quiet of Aiah’s condo felt like a safe haven from the outside world. The city lights flickered softly through the large glass windows, casting long, gentle shadows across the bedroom floor.

The noise of the party, the harsh words of the confrontation, and the painful weight of the past had all been left behind, but the invisible marks of the day were still lingering in the air.

Mikha sat on the edge of the large bed, her shoulders tightly hunched and her fingers nervously bunching the fabric of her oversized shirt. She was completely safe now, wrapped in the familiar scent of Aiah’s space, but her mind was still waging a quiet war. 

The ghost of those unwanted touches from earlier in the afternoon still felt incredibly real on her skin, making her feel cold despite the warmth of the room.

Aiah stepped into the bedroom, having changed into a soft silk nightshirt. She didn't say a word at first, choosing instead to move with a quiet, deliberate grace that immediately drew Mikha’s eyes to her. Aiah crawled onto the mattress, moving slowly so she wouldn't startle her wife. She settled down right in front of Mikha, crossing her legs and waiting with endless patience.

"Misis ko," Mikha whispered, her voice cracking in the dim light. Tears immediately rushed to her foxy eyes, bright and heavy with an unspoken desperation. "Can you… please?"

Aiah reached out, her movements incredibly soft as she cupped Mikha’s face in her palms. "I'm right here. What do you need from me, Misis ko?"

"Please, take it all away," Mikha begged, her chest heaving as she leaned heavily into Aiah’s warm touch. 

She was practically trembling from the sheer force of her emotions, looking up at her wife with a raw vulnerability that broke Aiah’s heart all over again. 

"Please, Misis ko. Take away all the ghosts of those touches. Erase them, please. I don't want to feel them anymore. I… I only want to feel you."

Aiah didn't hesitate for even a fraction of a second. She accepted the desperate request with a solemn, fiercely protective devotion. 

All she wanted on this earth was to make Mikha feel whole, clean, and completely cherished. She gently guided Mikha to lie down on the plush pillows, shifting her body so she was hovering over her wife like a shield against the rest of the world.

The air in the room grew thick with a slow, simmering heat as Aiah began her beautiful task. She started with Mikha’s right arm, the very place where the unwanted contact had first happened. She brushed her fingers down the smooth skin, feeling the slight shiver that ran through Mikha’s frame.

Aiah leaned down, her soft lips pressing gently against Mikha's wrist. "Here?" she asked in a low, velvet whisper, looking directly into Mikha’s eyes.

Mikha nodded frantically, a soft sob escaping her lips as the warmth of Aiah’s mouth began to replace the cold memory. "Yes, please, right there."

Aiah kissed the spot again, letting her lips linger until the skin went warm. She slowly moved her mouth up the inside of Mikha's arm, leaving a trail of feather-light, comforting kisses along the sensitive skin. She reached the crook of Mikha's elbow, pressing her lips firmly against the pulse point.

"Here?" Aiah murmured against her skin, her breath fanning over Mikha's arm.

"Yes," Mikha breathed out, her hands gripping the bedsheets tightly as a wave of intense relief washed over her system.

Aiah moved higher, her kisses becoming a slow burn of pure devotion as she reached Mikha’s shoulders. She gently pulled the collar of Mikha’s shirt down, exposing the smooth expanse of her collarbone. Aiah’s touch was regular and grounding, completely anchoring Mikha to the present moment. She kissed the top of Mikha’s shoulder, her mouth warm and deliberate.

"Here, Misis ko?" Aiah asked again, her voice full of a deep, possessive tenderness that left no room for doubt.

Mikha nodded against the pillow, her eyes closing as she fully surrendered to the beautiful sensation. "Yes, please erase it all."

Aiah’s lips trailed along Mikha’s collarbone, kissing every single inch of the skin with a fierce hunger that was wrapped in absolute gentleness. She moved up to the side of Mikha’s neck, the very spot where she knew Mikha was most sensitive. She pressed a deep, lingering kiss right below Mikha’s ear, listening to the beautiful sound of her wife’s hitched breath.

"Here?" Aiah whispered, her lips brushing against Mikha’s skin with every spoken word.

"Mm, yes, please… don't stop," Mikha whimpered, her hands finally letting go of the bedsheets to find Aiah’s waist, pulling her closer until there was absolutely no space left between them.

Aiah smiled against her neck, a soft, comforting sound escaping her throat as she continued her slow descent. She moved down to Mikha’s chest, pressing sweet, adoring kisses over her heart, feeling the steady, rapid thudding beneath her lips. She stayed there for a long time, claiming the space, marking her wife with nothing but pure love and devotion.

"Here?" Aiah asked softly, looking up to lock eyes with Mikha in the darkness.

Mikha nodded, her tears finally drying up as the intense intimacy of the moment completely consumed her mind. "Opo, Misis ko. Right there."

Finally, Aiah reached for Mikha’s hands. She took Mikha’s right hand in her own, lifting it up between their faces. She looked at the slender fingers that had been trembling all afternoon, and she began to kiss them one by one. She kissed the palm, she kissed the back of the hand, and she carefully pressed her lips against every single fingertip with an endless amount of patience.

"Saan pa po, Misis ko?" Aiah asked for the last time, her voice dripping with an overwhelming affection.

"Everywhere," Mikha answered honestly, her voice thick with emotion as she stared at the beautiful woman who was currently healing her soul. 

Aiah smiled in the dim light of the bedroom, her eyes dark with a sudden, fierce intensity that made Mikha’s heart skip a beat. 

The gentle, soothing rhythm of her kisses began to shift, slowing down into a deep, heavy simmer that filled the space between them with a palpable, electric heat.

"Everywhere?" Aiah repeated the word like a sacred promise, her voice dropping into a low, raspy whisper against Mikha’s lips. "You want me to kiss you everywhere, Misis ko?"

Mikha could only nod against the pillow, completely helpless under Aiah’s gaze. She felt raw and beautifully bare, her fingers tightening their grip on Aiah’s waist as she pulled her down. 

"Yes… everywhere," Mikha whimpered honestly, her voice thick with an overwhelming emotion. "Please, just reclaim it all. Make me forget everything else."

That was the ultimate green light, the absolute surrender Aiah had been waiting for. It wasn't just about erasing the cold memory of an unwanted touch anymore. 

The protective tenderness in Aiah’s chest flared into something deeply sensual, an undeniable hunger to mark every single inch of Mikha’s skin as hers and hers alone.

Aiah didn't answer with words. Instead, she leaned down and captured Mikha’s lips in a deep, bruising kiss that completely stole the remaining air from Mikha’s lungs. 

It was an entirely different kind of kiss from before. 

It was possessive, demanding, and filled with a slow-burn passion that made Mikha groan softly into the back of Aiah’s throat. 

Aiah’s tongue parted Mikha’s lips with an intoxicating confidence, tasting her thoroughly, tangling with her in a rhythm that felt like a quiet declaration of ownership.

Mikha opened up completely beneath her, arching her back slightly as Aiah’s hands slipped under the hem of her oversized shirt. 

Aiah’s palms were warm, slightly rough against Mikha’s smooth skin as they traveled up her ribs, sending a massive jolt of electricity straight down Mikha’s spine. 

Everywhere Aiah’s hands touched, the lingering chill of the afternoon was boxing its way out, replaced by a beautiful, blooming heat.

Slowly, without breaking the kiss, Aiah shifted her weight, smoothly pulling the shirt over Mikha’s head. When she looked down at her wife, her gaze was so heavy and full of unadulterated adoration that Mikha’s cheeks flared with a beautiful crimson blush.

"You’re so beautiful, Misis ko," Aiah breathed out, her hand sliding down to grip Mikha’s thigh with a firm, possessive pressure. "...and you’re mine."

"Yours," Mikha gasped out, her hands reaching up to desperately pull Aiah back down to her level. "Always yours, Misis ko."

Aiah leaned back in, her lips finding the sensitive spot right behind Mikha’s ear. She nipped gently at the skin, using her teeth just enough to make Mikha gasp out loud, before soothing the spot with a hot, swirling drag of her tongue. 

Mikha’s head tilted back automatically, completely exposing the long line of her neck, inviting Aiah to do whatever she wanted.

Aiah took the invitation gladly, raining a trail of biting, sucking kisses down Mikha’s neck, deliberately leaving small, rose-colored marks on the pale skin. 

It was a beautiful, chaotic reclamation. 

She was branding her wife, placing her markers exactly where she wanted them, ensuring that the world knew who Mikha belonged to.

Mikha’s hands tangled fiercely into Aiah’s soft brown hair, pulling her closer, her hips unconsciously shifting against Aiah’s thighs as a deep, agonizing ache began to pool in the center of her chest. "Aiah, please..." she begged, her breathing completely shattered into short, desperate gasps.

"I’m right here. I’ve got you," Aiah murmured against her collarbone, her hands sliding down to smoothly rid them of the final barrier between their skin.

The contact of their bare bodies rubbing together was a sudden, intense explosion of friction. 

Mikha hooked her legs around Aiah’s waist, completely surrendering her weight, her pleasure, and her entire soul to the woman hovering over her. She trusted Aiah implicitly, knowing that even in her most possessive moments, Aiah would always handle her like the most precious thing on earth.

Aiah moved down the length of Mikha’s body with an agonizingly slow, deliberate pace. She kissed the valley between Mikha’s breast, the soft curve of her ribs, and the flat expanse of her stomach, making Mikha’s muscles quiver and contract under the intense sensation. 

Every single touch was an anchor, pulling Mikha deeper and deeper into a world where only Aiah existed.

When Aiah finally parted Mikha’s thighs, she approached her not just with desire, but like a true devotee kneeling at an altar. Her touch became a deliberate remapping of Mikha's senses, countering every past trauma with a wave of pure, unadulterated gentleness. 

Aiah’s fingers found the center of Mikha's warmth, moving in slow, agonizingly sweet rhythms that focused entirely on trigger points of pure pleasure. She traced and touched with a steady, possessive friction that made Mikha’s hips instantly buck off the mattress, answering the call of a love that was rewriting her history.

"Aiah!" Mikha cried out, her hands slamming against the headboard as a sharp, blinding wave of pleasure hit her system.

Aiah hummed approvingly, her hands maintaining a heavy, unrelenting pressure that drove Mikha absolutely insane. She was remapping Mikha’s body from the inside out, creating a rhythm of pure devotion that left no doubt as to who owned Mikha’s pleasure now. 

Mikha was completely losing her mind, her fingers clawing at the bedsheets as her hips chased Aiah’s hand desperately, begging for the release that was coiling tighter and tighter in her lower belly.

"I love you so much, Misis ko. Let go for me," Aiah whispered fiercely, leaning up to press her lips firmly against Mikha's sweat-slicked neck while her movements became an absolute blur of love and devotion.

Mikha arched violently off the bed, her body locking tight as a massive, shattering climax tore right through her. She cried out Aiah’s name in a loud, broken wail, her entire body contracting in desperate, pulsing spasms around Aiah's touch. 

Aiah didn't pull away, keeping her hand steady to soothe the tight, vibrating heat, riding out the beautiful waves of her wife's release until the very last twitch faded away.

As the ripples of the climax slowly settled into a warm, heavy afterglow, Aiah collapsed softly onto Mikha’s chest, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist.

They were both covered in a thin sheen of sweat, their hearts beating in a chaotic, matching rhythm against each other’s ribs.

Mikha tangled her fingers back into Aiah’s hair, kissing the top of her head with a tired, deeply satisfied smile. 

Aiah barely had time to catch her breath before Mikha, fueled by a sudden rush of adoration and a fierce desire to return the favor, flipped their positions with a sudden, playful burst of energy. 

Straddling Aiah’s waist, Mikha looked down at her wife with eyes that burned with a sweet, worshipful intensity, mirroring the exact devotion she had just received. She rained soft, breathless kisses from Aiah’s jawline down to her collarbone, her fingers tangling securely in Aiah’s hair as her touch turned wonderfully frantic and demanding. 

Mikha mapped her own love language onto Aiah’s skin, answering every soft moan with a deeper, more possessive rhythm until the tension coiled tightly between them broke once more, sending them both over the edge in a shared, breathtaking collapse of pure pleasure.

In the quiet aftermath, they ended up completely tangled in a messy nest of bedsheets, limbs heavily intertwined as the cool air of the condo washed over their warm, sweat-slicked bodies. Their chests heaved in a chaotic, matching rhythm, their heavy breathing the only sound filling the safe sanctuary of the bedroom. 

Mikha leaned down to press a soft, lingering kiss against Aiah’s lips, a slow and lazy movement that naturally dissolved into matching, exhausted smiles against each other’s mouths. 

The ghosts of trauma had completely vanished, utterly replaced by the beautiful, grounding reality of a love that belonged only to the two of them.

· · ─ ᨒ ོ ☼ ─ · ·

They say that someday, somehow, and in the most unexpected of ways, you’ll meet the person who possesses the quiet power to make the world slow down. 

They’ll make the heavy spinning of the earth grind to a sudden, beautiful halt, or if fate’s feeling particularly playful, they’ll just make your heart stop beating altogether.

They also say you shouldn’t ever try to challenge the universe’s design. It’s a losing game to dare a plan written in the stars, because destiny can turn your entire existence upside down at the exact second you think you’ve got it all figured out. 

Mocking the unexpected isn’t a feat meant for the weak of heart. If you try, it’ll steal the strength right out of you, leaving either your spirit or your knees completely ruined.

Right now, standing beneath the vast, open skies of Sagada, Aiah’s knees are the chosen target of that very fate.

The cool mountain air brushes against her skin, but she can’t feel the chill. Warm tears escape the corners of her eyes, tracing slow, glittering paths down her cheeks. 

She isn’t bothered by the fact that the moisture’s probably ruining her carefully applied makeup. Her hands are shaking so violently that even the delicate lace handkerchief pressed into her palm seems to vibrate with the thrill of her trembling nerves. 

She doesn’t care that she looks like a beautiful, emotional mess. She doesn’t care that her lips are quivering with every breath, or that her palms are cold and sweaty. 

The entire world outside of this immediate perimeter has faded into a blur of green mountains and soft whispers. Her whole system is fiercely, hopelessly locked onto the sole woman walking down the aisle.

Mikha.

Mikha’s walking toward her with a grace that seems almost otherworldly, framed perfectly by the supportive arms of her parents. There’s a familiar, radiant smile playing on Mikha’s lips, a look that tells Aiah she’s secretly laughing at how wonderfully undone her bride is right now. It’s the exact look that promises hours of gentle teasing once the reception begins.

She’s breathtakingly beautiful in the simple, elegant wedding dress she chose so meticulously for this very day. The fabric catches the soft highland light with every step she takes, drawing her closer and closer.

With every inch she gains, she makes Aiah’s world slow down again and again, commanding the rhythm of the universe until Aiah’s chest feels completely still.

Her Mikha.

Her beautiful wife.

The one she’s going to hold forever. She’s looking at her future, her certainty, and her sanctuary.

Aiah had to bite her lower lip gently as Mikha drew closer and closer, desperately trying to hold back the heavy sobs that threatened to break through the quiet air.

If she let them out now, she would turn this breathtaking ceremony into a scene from a chaotic romantic comedy, and she wanted everything to be perfect. 

To ground herself, she began to fumble with the fabric of her all-white wedding attire. Her fingers traced the sharp edge of her blazer, which framed her chest with a striking, deep neckline, before brushing down toward her tailored flare slacks and the elegant white heels keeping her upright. 

Aiah fidgeted with just about anything she could touch to anchor her racing heart, because the overwhelming urge to break protocol was growing too strong. All she ever wanted to do is to sprint down the aisle, meet her beautiful bride halfway, and kiss her right then and there. 

She wouldn’t actually do it, of course, but the temptation was incredibly real as she stood frozen, staring intensely and memorizing every single detail of Mikha walking toward her.

For the longest time, a moment like this was just a distant dream to Aiah. It was a silly, fragile hope she used to whisper to the universe before she finally earned the right to hold this beautiful reality in her hands.

It feels so incredibly good to finally stand right here, where the sweeping peaks of the Cordillera mountains rise up to serve as the grand, silent witnesses to the love they share for one another.

"Iiyak na ‘yan oh," Mikha’s father teased softly, nudging his daughter as they took slow, measured steps down the aisle toward the woman who couldn’t seem to stand still, yet refused to break eye contact for even a second.

"Dad naman kasi, no…" Mikha retorted with a tiny pout, laughing through her nerves to keep her own tears from spilling over. "Ang ganda-ganda niya," she added in a breathless whisper, her gaze locked completely on the woman waiting for her at the altar.

This was her home. 

This was her Aiah.

"Parang gusto ka na niyang salubungin halfway," Mikha’s mother whispered, her voice thick with pure, joyful tears as she let out a gentle chuckle at the end of her sentence.

The three of them shared a quiet, emotional laugh together, and Mikha’s parents reached up to wipe away the tears of happiness from their own eyes as they guided their daughter toward her future.

When Mikha finally reached the end of the aisle, Aiah took a moment to show her respect, gently taking the hands of Mikha’s parents to perform the traditional mano gesture before drawing them both into a warm, heartfelt hug. 

Once she pulled back, she extended her hand toward Mikha with a steady, welcoming palm. Mikha’s parents smiled through their tears, carefully and gently placing their daughter’s fingers into Aiah’s grasp, knowing they were handing her over to a trusted, loving home that Mikha could always run to.

It was a perfect fit in Aiah’s hand.

The moment Aiah finally held Mikha close, she couldn’t help but take a deep, grounding breath while they locked eyes. The sheer emotion of the moment swept through her, and unable to help herself, she leaned down to press a soft, lingering kiss against the back of Mikha’s hand. That sweet gesture alone earned a chorus of loving chuckles and delighted squeals from their friends and family, who were all thoroughly enjoying the sight of Aiah being absolutely head over heels for her bride.

"Ikakamatay ko ‘yung ganda mo, Misis ko," Aiah said playfully but softly, staring directly into Mikha’s eyes as she tried her absolute best to memorize this exact second, engraving it not just into her mind but deep into her heart as well.

Mikha laughed lightly, her eyes crinkling with affection. "Pakasalan mo muna ako," she played along, her voice a gentle tease that only made Aiah smile wider.

The ceremony officiant cleared his throat right then, a subtle sound that made the entire crowd burst into light laughter and giggles. 

Everyone could see how the couple had effortlessly created their own private world right there at the altar. It was a beautiful display of such profound love, the kind where the rest of the universe completely fades away and all you can focus on is that one specific person standing in front of you.

As they turned to face the altar to finally seal the deal and begin their sacred union, Mikha slid her palm against Aiah’s, slowly intertwining their fingers one by one. 

The touch prompted Aiah to look over and give her a warm, reassuring smile. She was still completely unbothered by the stray tears that kept slipping down her cheeks, choosing instead to treat them as just another beautiful element of this grand celebration.

They had deliberately chosen the breathtaking Sagada mountains to be the ultimate witness of this sacred union between them. When they were originally planning the details of this wedding, both of them had blurted out this exact location at the same time, speaking the name of the place in the very same breath.

People often come to Sagada to find themselves, to heal, or to bury a heartbreak in the clouds. It is a sanctuary for the weary, a place at the edge of the world where you go when you need to be saved.

That is the profound truth of Mikha and Aiah.

Their love wasn’t built on easy, pristine paths, it was forged through the climb. In a world that constantly demands more, masks more, and breaks more, they became each other's refuge. Sagada is the perfect setting because it mirrors what they have built between them. At the end of all the chaos, the noise, and the long, exhausting roads, they didn't just find a destination.

They chose to be each other’s Sagada, the safe place where the soul finally rests, wrapped in the quiet, unshakable peace of coming home.

It felt incredibly profound rather than just romantic.

It felt so much more intimate to speak their lifetime vows with the surrounding pine trees and wild grass listening in, whispering their promises through the mountain peaks. They truly believed the highlands would help strengthen the love they share, making it just as sturdy and intact as the ancient rocks and solid soil beneath their feet. 

It felt right in the best way possible, creating a beautiful contrast between the crisp, cold mountain air and the deep warmth of their palms pressed together, matching the fire burning brightly inside their chests as they prepared to be blessed and united as one.

Then came the moment for them to share their vows, a quiet stillness settling over the mountain peak as the wind seemed to soften just for them.

It was Mikha who spoke first, a small, nervous smile breaking across her face as she looked down at their joined hands before meeting Aiah's gaze.

"I remember thinking you were just too much," Mikha said, her voice echoing softly through the crisp air. "To be completely honest, you actually used to annoy me quite a bit back then. You were always so smug, always talking, and you always had this unstoppable energy that completely threw me off my guard."

Everyone in the crowd laughed at the candid confession, and Aiah laughed right along with them, nodding her head because she knew that chapter of their story all too well.

Mikha waited for the giggles to die down, taking a deep, steadying breath as the playful mood shifted into something much deeper.

"I didn't know how to handle someone who looked at the world with so much wonder," Mikha continued, her eyes locked onto Aiah's. "You had this beautiful, vibrant light inside you, and it terrified me. I realize now that I was probably just defensive kasi.. you were so full of a life that I felt was completely missing from my world."

Aiah just stood there, looking intently at Mikha's face, still unable to fully process that this moment was actually happening right now. 

The reality of standing at the altar in the middle of Sagada, listening to the woman she loved lay her heart bare, felt beautifully surreal.

Mikha kept going, steadying her posture against the chilly breeze, though her lips trembled slightly from the sheer weight of all the emotions she wanted to put into words.

"It took me a while to admit to myself that you weren't annoying me at all," Mikha said, her voice dropping to a tender whisper. 

"That you were just waking me up. It took me a while to realize that the life you carried was the exact life I had been unconsciously yearning for all along, and it's the life I want to be a part of for the rest of my days."

Aiah inhaled sharply, the words hitting her right in the chest as a fresh wave of warmth rushed through her despite the cold mountain air.

Mikha continued, her grip on Aiah's hands tightening just a bit as she poured out the rest of her heart.

"When everything around me felt like it was falling apart, you became my anchor," Mikha said, a tear finally escaping as she smiled through it. "You're the home I found right in the middle of a storm, the shelter who made me feel loved even when I felt like I least deserved it. You're the peace in the center of my chaos. You didn't just give me your love, Aiah, you made me feel truly human, and you taught me how to finally love myself."

Aiah couldn't stop the tears from flowing anymore, and with every single word Mikha spoke, it felt like this incredible moment was becoming more and more real.

"So today, standing here on this mountain, I'm choosing you," Mikha said, her voice steadying as she made her commitment clear to the whole world. "I'm choosing a life with you, and I'm choosing absolutely everything and anything that comes our way, just as long as it has you in it."

Aiah let out a wet, breathless chuckle, the sound a mix of overwhelming happiness and disbelief as she looked at her wife.

Mikha finally exhaled a long breath she seemed to be holding, letting her own tears slip freely down her cheeks. Seeing this, Aiah automatically reached out, her thumb moving gently across Mikha's cheek to wipe the moisture away with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

"I vow to be yours and only yours," Mikha continued, her fingers squeezing Aiah's tightly. "I vow to stay by your side even when things get difficult, and I promise to navigate through all the good, the bad, and every single messy thing in between."

Faint sniffs could be heard echoing from the audience now, and Aiah sniffled right along with them, completely undone by the depth of the promises being made.

Mikha smiled beautifully through her tears as she looked into the eyes of the woman she was about to marry, ready to bring her vows to a close.

"I love you so much, Aiah," Mikha said, the warmth in her voice cutting right through the cool mountain breeze. "...and I vow to continue loving every single version of you that exists, the person you are today, the person you'll become tomorrow, and for all the always that come after."

By the time she finished, half the crowd was openly sobbing with them, thoroughly moved by the profound love that filled the mountain air.

Aiah couldn't help it anymore, entirely overcome by the weight of Mikha's words. She slowly took a careful step forward to pull her wife tightly into her arms, and Mikha immediately did the same, burying her face into Aiah's shoulder.

This time, the crowd didn't chuckle at their antics. Instead, the soft sniffs and quiet sobs grew louder across the mountain peak, everyone deeply moved by the sight of the two of them holding onto each other like nothing else in the world mattered.

When they finally pulled away, Mikha lifted her hand to gently wipe Aiah's tears away. Aiah leaned into the comforting touch, closing her eyes for a brief second as she steadied her breathing so she could deliver her own vows deliberately and clearly.

Aiah gave Mikha's hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze as she began to speak, her voice ringing out softly against the backdrop of the quiet mountains.

"Before you came into my life, I used to constantly chase the highs and lows," Aiah said, looking directly into Mikha's eyes. "I spent all my time running after flights and city lights, sunsets and sunrises, always searching for the next big adventure. I was addicted to things that I could only keep for a short time, and I just couldn't ever get enough of it all."

There was a slight, heavy pause in the air, and everyone in the audience waited in quiet anticipation for what she'd say next. 

Mikha just listened intently, momentarily taken aback by how breathtakingly beautiful her wife looked in this light. She tilted her head slightly upward, completely captivated by Aiah's taller frame standing before her under the open sky.

Aiah continued, her expression softening into pure warmth. "I really didn't know how to slow down for anything or anyone," she admitted with a small, self-deprecating smile. "But the exact moment I met you, everything changed. The world didn't just slow down, it literally and figuratively stopped, and all of my plans suddenly turned upside down because none of them mattered anymore if you weren't there."

Mikha smiled through her tears, sniffing quietly as she let the beautiful confession wash over her, her heart swelling with every word.

Taking a few deep breaths to keep her voice from cracking, Aiah kept going, baring her soul to her bride.

"There's a life before you, and there's this beautiful life I've lived during you," Aiah said, her thumb tracing the back of Mikha's hand. "..and I have to admit that my favorite part of existence isn't the nonstop adventures anymore. It's this life with you. That suddenly, all I wanted to do was stop running so I could just be with you, to do whatever it takes to make you smile, and to stay right beside you in any and every form you'd ever want me to be."

Mikha couldn't help but pout cutely, her lower lip trembling as the tears refused to stop falling while she listened to her wife's beautiful words.

Aiah smiled through her own heavy breaths, trying to steady the rush of emotions before she continued with her promises.

"I stopped chasing those fleeting adventures when I realized that you're my greatest adventure," Aiah said, her eyes shining with absolute certainty. "Waking up to the sight of you sleeping peacefully next to me is worth so much more than any breathtaking view hidden somewhere in the world. Your laughter means more to me than the excitement of airport sounds, and just having your presence beside me, knowing you're choosing me, is more than enough because I get the privilege to keep it forever."

Everyone listening in the crowd couldn't help but sniffle, constantly wiping away their tears as the raw honesty of the moment touched their hearts, and Mikha was doing the exact same.

Aiah took a shallow breath, locking her gaze entirely on her bride to deliver the core of her heart.

"I love you so much, Misis ko," Aiah said, her voice rich with a deep, unwavering warmth. "I vow to love you with all the life that I have inside me. I promise to take care of you through everything, to celebrate your every win like it's my own, to support every single dream you chase, and I vow to be yours and yours alone even before but especially now, from this day forward."

Mikha smiled beautifully through her cascading tears, squeezing Aiah's hands gently to let her know that every single word was being safely stored in her heart.

Aiah felt the squeeze and smiled back, finishing her vows with the ultimate promises of their future together.

"I vow to be right there with you every single time you need me, and even the times when you think you don't," Aiah whispered, the mountain wind carrying her words softly. "I vow to always choose you over anything else the world tries to offer, I promise to stay by your side through absolutely everything, and I vow to love you for the rest of our lives."

After Aiah's beautiful words, Mikha didn't wait another second. She moved closer, rising up on her tiptoes to loop her arms securely around Aiah's neck, eagerly embracing the beautiful now and the permanent future she'd chosen and would keep choosing every single day. 

Aiah welcomed the sudden embrace with open arms, burying her face deeply into the crook of Mikha's neck while holding her wife firmly around the waist to bring her as close as possible.

"I love you so much," Mikha whispered, her voice thick with emotion against Aiah's skin.

Aiah closed her eyes tightly, feeling the profound weight of those words and the warmth of the embrace as she replied, "Mahal na mahal kita, Misis ko."

As they finally pulled away, they exchanged radiant smiles and tenderly wiped away the lingering tears from each other's cheeks. 

The ceremony then continued smoothly, leading to the exchange of their wedding rings. The bands were carefully slid onto their fingers, resting perfectly right next to the Cartier love rings they already wore as a testament to their journey.

When the wedding officiant finally announced to the cheering crowd that they were officially wives and could share their first kiss, they didn't rush it. 

They just stood there smiling at one another, holding each other's steady stares as if they were quietly planning the entire future ahead, together in their own little world.

"Misis ko, wala ka nang kawala n‘yan. Sigurado ka na ba?" Aiah teased softly, her eyes full of affection.

"Sa’yo, oo…" Mikha replied, her smile widening.

“Hanggang kailan?” Aiah asked playfully as she looked to Mikha’s eyes, down to Mikha’s lips, and back to her wife’s brown eyes.

“Hanggang sa huli,” Mikha answered genuinely, with all her heart while mirroring how Aiah stared at her mouth back to her eyes. 

Aiah lifted her hands to settle them gently on Mikha's waist, grounding them both. Mikha effortlessly looped her arms around Aiah's neck once again, leaning into the familiar warmth.

"Habang buhay?" Aiah asked softly, her eyes still holding that undying yearning and that bright, vibrant life all at once.

Mikha smiled beautifully as she answered without a single shred of doubt, "Habang buhay," her eyes completely vowing to stay set only on the incredible woman standing in front of her.

Then they both leaned in to claim each other's lips, sealing this beautiful and sacred union with a deep, lingering kiss. 

The cheers of their loved ones erupted around them, a joyful symphony that echoed across the high peaks of Sagada, but the roaring applause felt like a distant hum compared to the quiet certainty settling in their chests. 

They pulled back from the kiss just far enough to breathe, only for Aiah to lean right back in, capturing Mikha's lips again. And then again, and again, pressing lingering kisses against each other as if they couldn't quite get enough of the reality that they were finally married, properly this time. 

They were smiling brightly in between each press of their lips, their soft laughter mingling together in the space between them.

When their foreheads finally rested gently against one another, they shared a private, breathless laugh, their eyes shining with absolute happiness. 

The mountain air brushed against their flushed cheeks, but neither of them felt the cold anymore, not with the fire of their new beginning burning so brightly between them.

As they turned to face their family and friends as a married couple, Aiah reached down and slid her fingers back into Mikha's, locking them tightly together. It was a simple, grounding rhythm they'd carry with them from this peak down into the valleys of everyday life. 

They walked down the aisle together, no longer as two people searching for their place in the world, but as a home found, built, and protected. 

The grand Cordillera mountains stood tall as their ultimate witness, while the surrounding pine trees whispered the sacred vows they'd just heard to the wind, letting the mountain breeze carry their love story out to the rest of the universe.

· · ─ ᨒ ོ ☼ ─ · ·

So, it began.

They started navigating everything together, shifting from the daily rhythms of the life they chose in Cebu to the confusing maps of the unfamiliar countries they were now visiting.

"Misis ko, galing na po tayo dito," Mikha said, looking around the cobblestone street with her brows tightly knitted. She didn’t let go of Aiah's hand, even though a few beads of sweat were starting to form on her forehead.

Aiah stepped in close, pulling a tissue from her bag to gently wipe those sweats away from her wife's face. In Aiah's mind, stress lines didn’t deserve a place on Mikha's beautiful face. "I'm sorry," she said, chuckling softly as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind Mikha's ear.

They had been walking for a solid hour now, pretending to find their boutique hotel tucked somewhere along the corners of Amsterdam. 

The truth was, they were not actually lost. 

Aiah knew exactly where their hotel was because she had memorized the route beforehand, but she just wanted to spend a little more time walking hand in hand with her wife under the European sun.

"I knew it," Mikha said, narrowing her eyes playfully when she realized exactly why Aiah was laughing.

Aiah's laugh rang out loud and clear across the historic streets, drawing a few amused glances from passing cyclists. She leaned in to press a warm kiss against Mikha's cheek, then she gently dragged her wife forward again. 

"I love holding your hand kasi, it fits in mine perfectly," she said as her ultimate excuse, tightening her grip on Mikha's fingers and tucking their joined hands deep into her coat pocket.

Mikha rolled her eyes with a massive smile breaking across her face. She didn’t budge or try to pull away. Instead, she let herself be dragged anywhere Aiah wanted to go, even if it meant they were going to run into the exact same streets all over again, because she couldn’t bring herself to stop holding Aiah's hand either.

Inside the cabin, the soft hum of the airplane engine created a cozy, private world just for the two of them. 

Aiah smiled the exact moment she felt Mikha's head drop onto her shoulder, a comfortable weight she'd grown to love. She leaned her own head against her wife's, closing her eyes as that familiar, comforting warmth spread across her chest all over again. 

It hit her then, right there in the dim cabin light, that it felt so nice to chase flights and listen to the constant buzz of busy airports, as long as she's holding Mikha's hand and feeling her steady presence close by.

"You okay?" Mikha asked, her voice thick with sleep as she nudged her face closer into the crook of Aiah's neck.

"Always, especially when you're using me as your pillow," Aiah teased softly, her fingers gently sweeping through Mikha's hair. "Not that I'm complaining ha? You're the best view on this entire flight, Misis ko."

Their adventures didn't stop in Europe, because soon enough, they found themselves navigating countries in Asia.

This time, the bright lights and quiet alleys of Japan. 

They started their journey in the middle of Tokyo's neon-lit energy, where the fast-paced crowds didn't even matter because they're always locked in their own little bubble. 

From the capital, they took the bullet train down to Osaka, spending their nights laughing through the crowded streets of Dotonbori, sharing plates of piping hot takoyaki and savory okonomiyaki.

"Careful po, it's hot," Mikha warned, catching a bit of sauce from the corner of Aiah's lips with her thumb.

"It's worth it," Aiah gasped, laughing through the heat of the food before looking up at her wife with a playful glint in her eyes. "Though honestly, nothing's hotter than you trying to order for us in broken Japanese."

"Hey! Atleast, it got us the food naman, diba?" Mikha replied, a proud grin breaking across her face as she pulled Aiah closer to avoid a passing group of tourists.

By the time they reached Kyoto, the pace slowed down beautifully. They spent an entire afternoon experiencing the quiet charm of the ancient city, wearing traditional kimonos that they'd carefully chosen for each other. 

Walking through the towering bamboo groves, the soft rustling of leaves matched the calm pace of their steps. Mikha kept adjusting the collar of Aiah's dress, completely mesmerized by how elegant her wife looked in the soft, flowing fabric.

"You keep staring, Misis ko," Aiah whispered, leaning in as they paused under a wooden archway. "Baka pakasalan mo ‘ko ulit n’yan ah."

"Why not?" Mikha admitted, her voice low and completely sincere as she adjusted a small hairpin in Aiah's hair. "I’ll marry you all over again."

The absolute highlight of the trip came on a clear morning when they stood before the breathtaking view of Mt. Fuji. The snow-capped peak stood majestic against a perfectly blue sky, reflecting beautifully on the still water of the lake below. The air was freezing, but they barely felt it as they stood pressed against each other, sharing a thick woolen scarf.

"Ang ganda," Mikha whispered, her breath forming small white clouds in the winter air as she stared at the mountain.

Aiah didn't look at the horizon. "Sobrang ganda,” she said as she kept her eyes fixed on the only view that matters, her wife. 

If those international trips offered breathtaking views, they're nothing compared to the literally breathtaking situations Aiah finds herself in whenever she's watching Mikha play volleyball. 

There's a different kind of intensity in the way Mikha moves through the court, her eyes completely locked on the ball with a fierce focus that always makes Aiah's heart race. When the ball dipped unexpectedly and her wife dove straight onto the hard floor of the court to save it, Aiah automatically stood straight up from her seat, nearly running past the sidelines to check on her.

"Misis ko! Careful, please?" Aiah shouted, her voice echoing loudly across the indoor gym. 

It made almost everyone in the stands turn to look at her, but she didn't care about the attention at all.

It's just a casual playoff match with some of their close friends and colleagues, but Mikha doesn't know how to play at half-speed, and she's taking it entirely too seriously. 

On the flip side, it's also far too serious for Aiah, whose overthinking mind is already running through every possible injury scenario her wife could experience.

Hearing the shout, Mikha pushed herself up from the floor, looked straight toward the bleachers, and flashed a reassuring smile before blowing a kiss right in Aiah's direction. 

Aiah swore to God her knees weakened at the gesture, completely forgetting the crowd around them. Foolishly, she even reached out and caught that kiss with her hand, tracking its imaginary path through the air and pressing it to her chest.

Witnessing her wife's adorable reaction, Mikha blushed instantly, shaking her head with a soft laugh, but her eyes stayed fixed on Aiah for a second too long. 

Because she's looking at the bleachers instead of the game, she completely fails to see the volleyball coming right back over the net, and it hits her squarely on the side of the head before either of them has any time to process what's happening.

The game paused instantly as the referee's whistle echoed through the gym, and the players on the court froze in shock. 

Aiah didn't waste a single second, dropping everything onto the bleachers and rushing straight onto the court, her sneakers squeaking loudly against the polished floor as she knelt right beside her fallen wife.

"Oh my God, Misis ko! Are you okay?" 

Aiah rambled worriedly, her hands hovering over Mikha's face, completely terrified to touch her in case she made the pain worse. 

"Kasi naman, I told you to be careful! Do we need to go to the hospital ba, hmm? Tell me, what do you need? Saan masakit, Misis ko?"

But despite the heavy impact, there's Mikha just lying there on her back, smiling widely up at her panic-stricken wife. The bright red spot where the volleyball had smacked her was already blooming across her forehead and cheek, contrasting sharply with the goofy, completely captivated grin on her face.

Aiah noticed the absurd expression immediately and called her out, her voice a mix of sheer frustration and deep relief. 

"Seryoso ka ba, Mikhaela Janna Lim? May gana ka pang ngumiti d’yan kahit tinamaan ka?"

Mikha affirmed her statement with a soft laugh, her eyes twinkling with pure mischief. "Tinamaan talaga," she said. 

Her voice sounded a little breathless as she smiled even wider at the gorgeous woman hovering over her. She paused for effect, letting her gaze lock onto Aiah's beautiful, worried eyes. 

"Tinamaan sa'yo," she added smoothly, completely giving in to the moment as she sprawled out flat on the hard floor, utterly content to just lie there smiling like she's the luckiest person alive.

The friends and colleagues who'd crowded around them to check on the injury immediately stepped back, groaning and rolling their eyes as they witnessed the impenetrable love bubble form around the couple. They realized they're completely fine, or at least, Mikha's brain's only function at the moment is being lovesick. 

Aiah let out a defeated but incredibly fond sigh, gracefully scooping her wife up into her arms to carry her toward the bleachers. 

Mikha didn't protest at all, wrapping her arms securely around Aiah's neck, still grinning like a smug, lovesick fox while being carried away by a damn beautiful golden retriever of a wife who's already looking for an ice pack.

Aiah's always had a knack for turning things around whenever they're talking about taking each other's breath away, moving the thrill from the volleyball court straight to the open road.

"No, no, no," Mikha said, her eyes widening as she took two large steps back and shook her head in absolute disbelief.

Aiah couldn't help but laugh at her wife's dramatic retreat while she comfortably sat astride a sleek, aggressive BMW M 1000 RR big bike. 

She looked like she belonged there, balancing the heavy machine with effortless grace before turning the key and making the powerful engine roar to life, a deep rumble that vibrated through the pavement as she stared at her terrified wife.

"I'm not getting on that thing, Maraiah Queen Arceta-Lim, it's way too dangerous," Mikha said, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as if that could shield her from the sheer horsepower in front of her. "You're going to give me a heart attack."

Aiah countered the panic with a warm, steady grin, shutting off the engine so she could be heard over the quiet of the night. 

"Hey, look at me, I've got you, okay? I've got both of us, and you know I'd never put us in a situation we couldn't handle, trust me on this one, Misis ko."

Mikha would be lying if she said Aiah didn't look good on it, because heaven and hell, she definitely did. There's something wildly attractive about the contrast of Aiah's gentle personality against the raw, leather-clad energy of the motorcycle. She looked incredibly hot and cool at the same time, and the view alone was absolutely killing Mikha's resolve.

Aiah kicked down the stand and got down from the bike, and just watching the smooth, confident way she moved took Mikha's breath away all over again.

"I'm going to make sure we're both safe, and I'll never let anything bad happen to us, let alone to you," Aiah spoke softly, her voice leaving no room for doubt as she closed the distance between them. She reached out to cup Mikha's cheeks with her warm hands, leaning in to press a lingering, reassuring kiss against her forehead. "You're my most precious cargo, Misis ko, I'm going to protect you, always."

Mikha exhaled a long breath, finally setting her lingering fear aside as she surrendered to that magnetic charm. She leaned into the touch but still tried to look firm, pointing a playful, warning finger at her wife. 

"Fine, but if you go even a kilometer over the speed limit or try to do any crazy turns, I'm serious, Mrs. Lim, you're not getting a single kiss from me for a whole month."

Aiah smiled wildly at the threat, the expression lighting up her entire face as she stepped in and wrapped her arms tightly around Mikha's waist, pulling her close. 

"Well, that's another great insurance policy for our safety then, you know I can't survive without your kisses for even a day, Misis ko."

That settled it right then and there.

When they finally decided to take the ride, Aiah strapped a sleek helmet onto Mikha's head, adjusting the strap gently before putting on her own. As she climbed back onto the driver's seat, she looked back over her shoulder, her eyes crinkling with affection behind the visor. 

"Hold on tight to me, Misis ko. Don't let go."

Mikha didn't need to be told twice. She slid onto the seat behind her wife and wrapped her arms securely around Aiah's waist, burying her face into the space between Aiah's shoulder blades and relaxing against her steady frame as they began to navigate the open roads together.

It's a beautiful, chaotic mix of sensations as the wind rushed past them. One's losing her breath with a bit of anxious fear but quickly getting over it because of the steady rhythm of the ride, while the other's losing her breath in a different way, deeply affected by the way her wife's holding onto her as if she's the safest place on Earth.

· · ─ ᨒ ོ ☼ ─ · ·

Today they were at the Arceta family home.

Kids chased each other through every available hallway. Aunts moved through the kitchen with the particular efficiency of women who were cooking and gossiping at the same time, managing both with equal dedication. Uncles had gathered around mechanical things that hadn’t needed fixing before they’d arrived and definitely didn’t need fixing now.

Mikha had claimed a spot on the living room floor, completely absorbed in the middle of it all, surrounded by Aiah’s nephews and nieces who had decided collectively that she was the most interesting thing in the house.

“H’wag ninyo masiyadong kulitin ang Tita Mikha ninyo ha?” one of the aunts called out from the kitchen doorway.

“Okay lang po,” Mikha said, already smiling, already deep in whatever game the kids had pulled her into without asking permission.

Upstairs, Aiah had wrapped up her meeting. She was making her way back down when she caught sight of the living room from the landing and stopped walking entirely.

She stood there, one hand on the railing, watching her wife get cheerfully swarmed by children who had no concept of personal space and every confidence that Mikha would welcome all of it. 

Mikha was laughing, letting them climb on her, giving as good as she got. Aiah felt the smile settle onto her face before she’d even decided to let it. She’d always noticed how natural Mikha was with kids, how easy it seemed for her, and how little effort it took. 

Watching it now, from up here, it made something stir in the back of her mind. Something quieter than a thought but louder than a feeling.

Then Aiah’s cousin arrived. She’d recently given birth, and she came in carrying the baby against her chest, making her rounds through the room with the calm confidence of a new mother who’d already figured out how to hold a conversation and a newborn at the same time. 

Aiah watched from the landing as her cousin crossed the room toward Mikha and, without much ceremony, transferred the baby into Mikha’s arms.

Something warm moved through Aiah’s chest all at once, slow and spreading, like sunlight coming through a window she hadn’t thought to open. She started walking down the stairs, her eyes staying on Mikha the whole way. On the careful way she cradled the baby, on the expression that had come over her face, soft and still in a way Aiah didn’t often see, on the way Mikha’s fingertips found the baby’s hand and held it, gently, like she understood exactly how small, new, and precious the thing she was holding was.

It was almost unbearable to look at. 

In the best possible way.

Aiah came up beside her quietly, not wanting to disturb whatever was happening in that small and tender radius around her wife and the baby. She pressed a kiss to the top of Mikha’s head first, then let herself simply take in the sight.

“Gusto mo n’yan?” she asked, keeping her voice light, playful enough to land softly.

Mikha looked up at her, eyes bright and full of something living. “Hmm?” she asked, genuinely puzzled for a moment.

Before Mikha could ask what Aiah meant, one of the aunts beat her to it.

“Tingnan mo oh!?” she said, loud enough to carry across the room, already gesturing with both hands at the whole picture of them, Aiah standing close, Mikha holding the baby, the three of them framed together like something that had always been meant to look that way. “Bagay na bagay sa inyo ’yung ganyan.”

Mikha understood then. All at once and without room for doubt. She turned to look at Aiah, who was already looking back at her, already smiling, like she’d been waiting to see exactly this, the moment it landed. Mikha felt her stomach flip clean over. 

She caught her lower lip between her teeth and pressed down, trying to hold the smile back, not quite managing it. Then she felt Aiah’s lips on the top of her head again, warm and unhurried, lingering just long enough to mean something.

Neither of them said anything after that. They didn’t need to. It settled between them quietly, something soft and certain, not a question but a promise they hadn’t spoken out loud yet. 

Something to carry forward. 

Something to look forward to, together, when the time came.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Back at their home, the house had settled into its nighttime quiet.

Mikha was already on the bed with a book open in her hands. Aiah was at the mirror running through her skincare, her hands going through the motions while her mind kept drifting back to the living room of their family home, and to that small and certain warmth that had moved through her chest when she’d watched Mikha hold that baby. 

She couldn’t shake it. 

She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

“Misis ko?” Aiah called out, making her way slowly toward the bed.

“Po?” Mikha answered, eyes still on her page, waiting.

That single syllable, soft, easy, and completely unbothered, was always enough to come undone a little. Aiah didn’t fully understand why it hit her the way it did every time, but it always did.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and Mikha was already moving, setting her bookmark carefully between the pages, closing the book, setting it aside, and turning to face her with her arms open and waiting. Aiah didn’t hesitate. She settled into the space Mikha made for her without a second thought.

A quiet settled over them.

Then Aiah spoke.

“What are your thoughts of having…” she started, and then stopped. She turned the words over, looking for the right ones, not finding them in any order that felt easy.

“Hmm? Of having?” Mikha prompted gently when a beat had passed.

Aiah pulled back just enough to look at her. “Of having… kids?” she finished, her eyes searching Mikha’s face as the words landed.

Mikha’s expression moved into something that wasn’t hard to read at all, open, warm, and quietly anticipating, like the question had found a place in her that had already been thinking about it. “Why’d you ask?” she said softly, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Aiah’s ear.

Aiah took a moment before she answered. “I just know na.. you’d be a great mom,” she said slowly, honestly, the words coming out without performance. “‘Yung kanina… the way you were with the kids, the way you held the baby.” 

She paused. 

“Ang alam ko lang, you’d be incredible at it, Misis ko. I really believe that.”

She’d half expected something like nerves to find her after saying it out loud. Some flicker of fear at the size of what she was pointing toward.

It didn’t come.

What came instead was Mikha’s smile, quiet and a little surprised, followed by a soft laugh that she let out before she could think to hold it back.

“Misis ko,” she said, shaking her head gently, still smiling. “I was actually thinking the same thing about you. That you’d be a great mom.” 

She looked at her wife with complete sincerity. 

“You’re patient, and caring… and so full of love and adventures. Any kid would be lucky to have you as their mom.”

Hearing those words made something swell in Aiah’s chest, warm, full, and almost too much to hold. Pride, love, and gratitude, all of it arriving at the same time without asking for space. She was quiet for a moment before she spoke. 

“You don’t think we’re moving too fast?” she asked carefully, her voice honest and unhurried. “With all of this. The house, the wedding, the life, and now… kids. You don’t think it’s too soon?”

Mikha answered by pulling her closer. She shook her head, slow and certain. “No,” she said simply. “If anything, I think we’re just catching up.”

Aiah looked at her. “What do you mean, Misis ko?”

Mikha held her a little tighter before she answered, like she wanted to make sure Aiah could feel the steadiness of what she was about to say. 

“We lost a lot of time, Aiah. All those months apart, not knowing, not being sure. Lost and wandering.” 

She paused, her voice staying quiet but carrying every bit of what she meant. 

“I think the universe is just giving us back what we were always supposed to have. The life we were supposed to be living a long time ago. We’re not moving fast. We’re just finally where we’re meant to be.”

Aiah can't help but hug Mikha so tight that it steals the air from her lungs. Mikha lets out a soft chuckle but responds by pulling her wife even closer, burying her face deep in the crook of Aiah’s neck where she feels most at home.

"Misis ko, kaya mahal na mahal kita eh," Aiah whispers. 

She pulls back just enough to pepper Mikha’s lips with soft, lingering pecks. 

"Kaya sa‘yo ako, Mikha Lim," Aiah adds with a smug little grin, though there’s no hiding the pride in her voice because being Mikha’s is her favorite thing to be.

Mikha raises a brow, her eyes dancing with a playful challenge. "Dapat lang naman, Mrs. Lim," she dares her. Her hands find their place on Aiah’s waist as Aiah effortlessly crawls on top of her, claiming her space.

"Do you need proof, Misis ko?" Aiah’s tone shifts, turning sultry and thick with intent as she settles comfortably on Mikha’s stomach.

Mikha’s smirk pulled a little wider. She tilted her head, one eyebrow lifting in a silent challenge. “And what exactly are you offering?”

Aiah leaned down slowly, her lips finding the curve of Mikha’s ear. “A lot. More than you can imagine,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It really just depends on how much you can take.”

Then she pulled back.

Aiah looked at her wife for one unhurried moment before saying, completely calm, “Exhibit A.”

She reached down and pulled her night dress up and off in one easy motion. 

Underneath it, absolutely nothing. 

Just her bare self.

The moment that fabric hits the floor, Mikha snaps into action. She sits up abruptly, her hands gripping Aiah to hold her firmly in place. She claims Aiah’s lips in a kiss that's deep and hungry, a bruising contact that speaks of a desperate kind of want. 

There’s no telling exactly what happens next, but it's certain they'll be spending the night lost in the great kind of cardio that has them moaning each other’s names like a breathy prayer of pure pleasure.

· · ─ ᨒ ོ ☼ ─ · ·

A year passed.

Now in the quiet, sterile room of a hospital where their next big adventure was about to begin.

"One more big push, Mrs. Lim, you're almost there," the doctor said, her voice calm and encouraging amid the tense energy of the delivery room.

Aiah stood right beside the hospital bed, holding Mikha's hand so tightly that their knuckles turned white. She leaned in close, brushing a few damp strands of hair away from her wife's face while affirming her softly. 

"You're doing amazing, Misis ko, I'm right here with you and I'm not going anywhere. Just one more, you can do this."

Mikha took deep, ragged breaths, trying to find her focus. She looked up at her wife and noticed the wet tracks on Aiah's face, forcing a weak but playful smile despite the intense contractions. 

"Why are you the one crying so much when I'm the one doing all the heavy lifting here?" she teased, her voice shaking slightly as she tried to ease the heavy tension in the room.

Aiah chuckled lightly through her tears, leaning down to press a soft kiss against Mikha's sweaty forehead. She couldn't help the way her emotions were overflowing, especially since she hated seeing her wife in any kind of discomfort. 

"I'm sorry, I just really can't stand to see you in this much pain, but you're being so brave right now."

Mikha smiled at those words, finding a sudden surge of new strength deep within herself. She squeezed Aiah's hand, took one last deep breath, and did one final, powerful push. 

All the while, Aiah kept whispering words of pure affirmation right beside her ear, kissing the back of her hand again and again as if she could transfer her own strength into Mikha's body.

Right after that successful push, the heavy silence of the room broke, and they both heard the sharp, beautiful sound of a baby crying out loud for the very first time.

Mikha let her head fall back against the pillows, completely exhausted and weak, but she still managed to look at her wife with a triumphant glint in her eyes. "She's loud, I think she got that from you," she whispered, her chest heaving as she let out a sigh of pure relief.

Aiah chuckled, wiping her eyes as she took her very first glance at the tiny, wrinkly little human the nurses were gently wiping down. More tears slipped down her cheeks as she leaned down to kiss Mikha's forehead again. 

Her nerves just couldn't calm down hearing that beautiful, loud cry, mostly because for the past nine months, all they could do was listen to a faint heartbeat through a monitor and feel tiny kicks against a belly. 

Now, that life was fully here in the room with them.

The nurses carefully walked over and placed the newborn baby directly onto Mikha's bare chest for skin-to-skin contact. The exact moment that tiny body settled against Mikha's skin, Aiah swore to everything she held dear that it was the most perfect thing she'd ever witnessed in her entire life.

Aiah leaned down and pressed a tender, emotional kiss against Mikha's lips, pouring all her love into it. "Thank you, Misis ko. Mahal na mahal ko kayo," she murmured against her wife's lips, thanking her beautiful partner for giving birth to the precious life they'd cherished and protected for months inside the womb.

Hiraya Miracle A. Lim.

It was the name they'd chosen long before this day. It's a name that carries so much meaning for them, translating to a dream come true. 

It represents a miraculous fulfillment of all their hopes and prayers, a beautiful reward after trying and trying through all the ups and downs of their journey together.

It wasn't an easy journey at all, and it was never an easy decision when they're finalizing the details of their reciprocal IVF process. 

Originally, Aiah really wanted to be the one to carry Mikha's eggs, wanting to experience the physical journey of pregnancy for them both. 

But Mikha insisted on doing it instead, viewing it as the ultimate gift of her absolute devotion to Aiah. She wanted to carry her wife's eggs and nurture their child inside her own body, seeing it as the perfect parallel to how Aiah proudly carried her last name every single day.

Aiah sniffed loudly and let out another watery sob, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand as she looked at her new little family. She leaned down close to her wife's ear, her voice cracking with emotion as she made a solemn promise. 

"I'm doing it next time, okay? I won't let you do it na, Misis ko."

Mikha chuckled softly, the sound low and breathless as a wave of pure exhaustion and happiness washed over her. She smiled up at Aiah, her heart overflowing as she felt the soft, warm skin of their newborn baby resting peacefully against her chest. 

She didn't even have the energy to argue about the future, completely content in the present moment as Aiah leaned over the hospital bed, gently wrapping her arms around both of them to bring them into a tight, warm embrace.

The following days were wrapped in so much tenderness, with Aiah dedicating every single ounce of her energy to taking care of her girls. She took the task of nursing Mikha back to health after giving birth seriously, treating her wife like the most fragile, precious treasure in the world. 

Whether she's helping Mikha sit up, preparing nutritious meals, or gently massaging her sore muscles, Aiah's touch was always remarkably soft and gentle. 

Most of the time, she couldn't even help but stare at her wife in absolute awe, completely captivated by the beautiful, ethereal glow that seemed to settle over Mikha now that she's a mother.

As the days passed by, the reality of their new life fully set in. Figuring things out wasn't easy at all, especially since they're suddenly making major life decisions not just for the two of them anymore, but for the three of them. 

Just like how they successfully navigated the early days of their married life, they approached this new chapter with extreme care, practical thinking, and gentleness, adapting every part of their routine around their daughter's presence. 

They're both doing such a great job adjusting to their new roles that even their own parents were genuinely surprised and impressed by how smoothly everything was turning out.

Soon enough, weeks turned into months, and a comfortable rhythm established itself in their home. 

Even though they had a child to think about now, they never allowed the chaos of parenthood to push aside the little things that kept the fire in their relationship burning so brightly. They still made it a strict point to go on regular date nights, ensuring they're still doing exactly what they've always done as a couple, if not doing it even better than before.

It certainly helped that after giving birth, Mikha became extra needy whenever they're behind closed doors, always craving Aiah's touch and closeness. 

Aiah wasn't complaining about this sudden shift at all, viewing it as a divine blessing that she's the chosen one who gets to satisfy and resolve that intense need in every way possible. She didn't get tired and she never lost any opportunity to remind Mikha just how deeply she's desired, pouring all the romance and passion they'd built over the years into those quiet, intimate hours of the night.

"I want more…" 

Mikha would whisper between breathless moans and groans, her voice a raw, desperate sound in the quiet and dimly lit bedroom. She would tighten her grip on Aiah's shoulders, pulling her wife impossibly closer and arching her body up against Aiah's frame as if she couldn't get enough of the heat between them.

Aiah would just smile, her heart swelling with a mix of pride and affection as she looked down at the beautiful woman completely undone beneath her. 

She would move without hesitation, doing everything exactly like how Mikha needed it and wanted it, matching her pace perfectly to her wife's silent cues. 

She would go deeper if that's what Mikha needed to feel grounded, and she would push harder if that's what Mikha wanted to push her over the edge, completely attuned to every single shiver and gasp.

"Another round?" Aiah asked a little while later, her own voice still heavily breathless but carrying a triumphant, loving smile. 

She didn't wait for a verbal answer, leaning down to trail slowly, lingering kisses along the warm skin of her wife's neck and collarbone, acting like she was planting all her silent prayers and unspoken poems directly into Mikha's skin.

Mikha didn't say a single word, completely spent but still fueled by a lingering ache that only her wife could soothe. 

Instead of speaking, she reached down to take Aiah's hand, threading their fingers together before slowly guiding it down across her stomach, directing that familiar touch right to where she wanted it the most and where she needed it to be.

Aiah only smirked when she felt that familiar guidance, her fingers instantly flexing against Mikha's skin as she let out a low, satisfied hum. 

It was hot.

It was sexy.

But the story's always a little different whenever the tables turned, and it became Mikha's absolute desire to satisfy her wife. When Mikha took control, she became an entirely different force, refusing to stop her delicious torment until Aiah explicitly begged her to do so. She'd claim every single inch of her wife's body, leaving sweet marks and burning touches that reminded them both that Aiah belonged to her, and her alone.

"Fuck!" 

Aiah would curse unintentionally, her head tossing back against the damp pillows as a wave of intense pleasure rushed straight through her entire body.

"Shhh. Language, Misis ko…" 

Mikha would gently hush her, a wicked, triumphant grin flashing across her face as she shifted her weight to move directly on top, settling herself right between Aiah's legs. She purposefully used the carefully chosen experiment anchored securely around her waist, her movements deliberate and teasing as she looked down at her completely undone wife.

With that favorite experiment and what they playfully called their ongoing marital exploration, they've managed to test the limits of almost every single room in their house over the past few months. 

They eagerly claimed kitchen countertops, living room couches, bathtubs, and just about any other solid surface they could find, even sneaking a few thrilling moments inside the tinted windows of their car whenever they had the chance. 

They've perfected the art of squeezing these incredibly spicy, sexy moments right into the small cracks of their busy schedules, keeping their passion alive and thriving even while being dedicated, hands-on parents to their little miracle.

No matter what they're doing in those private moments, they'd stop absolutely everything the very second they heard their little Hiraya cry out from the nursery. 

It didn't matter what stage of intimacy they're currently in, whether they're right at the peak of things or just getting started, because their daughter's voice always took instant priority. 

Luckily, so far, their sweet Hiraya was actually doing an amazing job of giving them enough time to do their own things, allowing them the space to still be passionate wives with very real needs.

To make their daily routine a lot more manageable, they also hired a few trusted house helpers to handle the heavy house stuff and daily chores. 

This brilliant decision freed up their schedule significantly, meaning they didn't have to stress about cooking or cleaning and could focus nearly all of their personal energy on taking care of their little miracle.

Watching this new chapter unfold, Aiah couldn't help but get completely mesmerized by how her wife seemed to glow, balancing her role as a loving mother while remaining an incredibly attentive, hands-on wife to her. 

Mikha became even more practical, more meticulous, and more rational in her approach to daily life, and Aiah would never want her to have it in any other way because she absolutely loves every single bit of it.

At the same time, Aiah's own business was doing exceptionally great now, with multiple new franchises opening up and massive corporate deals constantly receiving approval. 

Mikha couldn't help but sometimes just stare at her wife in pure amazement, wondering how on earth Aiah managed to run a rapidly growing company while also knowing exactly when to stop all the workloads the moment she stepped through the front door. 

Aiah was completely hands-on with their family, making it a strict point to always take care of their Hiraya and her first. Mikha watched in awe as Aiah effortlessly spread and multiplied that beautiful, vibrant life she always carried within herself, filling their entire household here in Cebu with warmth and joy. Because of that, Mikha couldn't help but deeply appreciate everything Aiah did for them, from the smallest gestures to the biggest sacrifices.

A few years passed by, and their relationship only grew stronger, better, and significantly deeper with each turning page of their life together. But of course, they aren't a perfect fairytale, and there are naturally arguments and misunderstandings that pop up along the way. 

Despite the friction, they've made a sacred promise never to let their disagreements affect their sweet Hiraya. They always make sure to resolve things privately behind closed doors and calmly, striving to handle every single conflict gently, if not, still with an underlying layer of tenderness. There's never any shouting, nor lifting a finger or a hand toward each other, and they strictly avoid being harsh or slashing one another with sharp, regretful words.

Not that.

They're never that kind of couple.

But sometimes, there are those rare, frustrating instances where an argument simply can't be resolved overnight. It'll take a few long days to completely simmer down, just like right now, where Aiah's deep-seated jealousy and intense possessiveness is a burning fire that Mikha is struggling to put out.

"Aiah, they're just crushes, admiration lang from people. That simple," Mikha said, her voice laced with exhaustion as she tried to follow Aiah closely toward their master bedroom.

Fortunately, Hiraya was completely preoccupied with her Lolos and Lola downstairs, giving them the rare space they needed to address the heavy elephant in the room.

It's been a whole week since Aiah started acting cold and casual toward her. Aiah was still caring enough to make sure Mikha ate her meals, but she wasn't the usual affectionate, clingy Aiah she loved, and Mikha finally reached a point where she couldn't take the distance anymore.

"Misis ko, please? Let's talk this out right now po?" Mikha pleaded as she quietly locked the bedroom door behind them, making absolutely sure no one's going to interrupt their moment to sort things out once and for all.

"That simple? You honestly think it's that simple to me, Mikha?" Aiah said firmly, her tone clipping each word tightly, though she made a conscious effort not to totally raise her voice.

"Look, I'm really sorry. I really am. I said I'm sorry the last time too, but you haven't been paying attention to me at all," Mikha said, her tone sounding incredibly sad and broken as she pouted, hoping to melt a bit of the ice around her wife's heart.

Aiah ignored the cute face entirely, walking right past her toward the walk-in closet before she muttered sharply under her breath, "Doon ka sa mga babae mo."

"Ikaw lang ang babae ko," Mikha retorted instantly, her voice ringing with absolute certainty as she stepped into her wife's space to put an end to the ridiculous idea.

"Really? Kaya pala you keep on commenting and showing off your rizz to your girl crushes, ‘no?" Aiah said, her voice trembling slightly as the floodgates finally opened. "First, it was Madison Beer, which was completely understandable, and I'm definitely not going to try to compete with that kind of beauty. But what the hell was that with Liza Soberano? You actually went ahead and took a picture with her right after you commented on her post, acting as if wala kang asawa at anak," Aiah rambled, the painful jealousy that's been simmering inside her chest for the past few days finally pouring out all at once.

Mikha opened her mouth to defend herself, but she immediately closed it when she realized the depth and profound truth underneath Aiah's raw words. She could see how much her careless, playful interactions had actually hurt the woman she really loved.

"So, if you think these are all just simple, harmless things, to me they're absolutely not, alright?" Aiah said, finally turning around to face Mikha fully as tears slipped continuously down her flushed cheeks. "I get jealous, yes, and I also get insecure, Mikha Lim. I can't help but think that maybe I'm not pretty anymore, that maybe you're getting tired of me, or that maybe you don't even want me around anymore but you just can't leave kasi may anak tayo," she added, her voice breaking completely as she sobbed, dropping heavily onto the edge of the mattress while she tried to wipe her tears away with the back of her hands.

Mikha took a few careful steps forward until she's right in front of Aiah, slowly dropping down to kneel on the floor before her. She carefully and gently took Aiah's trembling hands into her own, pressing a tender kiss against the knuckles and holding them firmly against her palms as if she's holding onto her entire world. 

"I'm so sorry about my actions, Misis ko, I'm really, really sorry. There's no excuse for how carelessly I behaved po, and I'm so sorry for making you feel this way," she said, her voice thick with emotion as she kissed Aiah's hands again and again.

Aiah was still sobbing heavily, and Mikha couldn't help but feel those painful gasps slicing right through her heart and completely crushing her soul. 

This was by far the heaviest, most heartbreaking cry she'd ever heard from Aiah during any of their misunderstandings, and all Mikha wanted to do right now was to take full accountability for her mistakes and find a way to take the pain away.

Mikha spoke again, keeping her voice incredibly soft and steady as she looked up into her wife's tear-filled eyes. 

"But it was never, ever serious for me, Misis ko. I've never looked at any of them the way I see you, and I've never liked them the way I like you. I've never loved any of them, nor am I ever planning to. I won't ever do that because my heart belongs completely to you, and to you alone, Aiah," she assured her, sealing the promise by kissing her hands once more.

"I'm really sorry about everything, Misis ko. It was never my intention to make you feel jealous, let alone make you feel insecure about yourself, never. I'd never intentionally hurt you in any way possible po, Misis ko."

Mikha's own tears were now slipping freely down her cheeks, landing warmly onto Aiah's hands as she continued to press her lips against them in between her raw apologies, treating each touch like a silent prayer for forgiveness.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever known, Aiah, and no one else comes close to your beauty. You're the sexiest, you're the smartest, the kindest, and the best woman someone could ever ask for in this lifetime."

Aiah's loud sobs finally died down a little as she listened to the sincerity in Mikha's words, her breathing hitching as Mikha lifted her left hand to gently wipe the fresh tears away from Aiah's damp cheeks.

"I'd never get tired of you, Misis ko. Hindi kita ipagpapalit kahit kanino, and hinding-hindi kita iiwan para sa ibang tao, and that's never going to happen, Aiah. No, never, I refuse to even think about it. Dito lang ako, at sa'yo lang ako."

Even with her lips trembling from her own crying, Mikha managed to let out the words properly, pouring all the honest, desperate emotions she was feeling directly into her confession.

"I can't even survive a single day without you, Misis ko. My wedding vows are still entirely true, they're still yours, and nothing in this world could ever change that. Mahal na mahal ko kayo ng anak natin, and I'd never do something stupid that's going to ruin the family we've built together," Mikha added, her voice cracking emotionally.

As she finished speaking, Mikha leaned her forehead down against Aiah's knees, sobbing out the last of her words as she felt the heavy weight of guilt over her foolishness, mixed with the overwhelming, boundless love she'd always carry for Aiah, and for Aiah alone.

"I'm really sorry, Misis ko. Hindi na po mauulit, hinding-hindi na. I'll be better, I promise," Mikha sobbed, her voice muffled as she kept her forehead leaning heavily against Aiah's hand, refusing to break the physical connection.

Aiah was just listening in the quiet room, her tear-filled eyes fixed entirely on the woman kneeling so vulnerability in front of her.

"God… I'm so sorry. I just don't want to lose you, Aiah. I can't lose you," Mikha sobbed again, her shoulders shaking violently as the terrifying thought of losing her wife gripped her chest.

Aiah breathed out a long, heavy sigh to steady her own racing heart, and then she slowly squeezed Mikha's hand back. The truth was, she wasn't actually that mad anymore, let alone thinking about leaving Mikha. She wouldn't ever dream of doing that, never in a million years, because her life was entirely intertwined with this woman.

Mikha didn't even seem to notice the reassuring grip on her fingers, consumed by her own guilt as she continued to sob like a broken child. "I'm sorry, Misis ko, I'm so sorry. I love you… so much," she sobbed more, her tears soaking into the fabric of Aiah's jeans.

Aiah felt every single one of those heavy sobs vibrate through her own body. She recognized that she's been too jealous and a little insecure over the past week, but Mikha's profound love for her weighed so much heavier and bigger than any of those negative feelings. 

She wasn't trying to invalidate her own hurt, but she knew that there really are times where too many overwhelming emotions can drive things crazy and distort reality.

Deciding that she'd seen enough of her wife's heartbreak, Aiah squeezed her hand once more, firmer this time. "Tayo ka na d'yan," she softly said, her voice finally losing its icy edge.

Mikha shook her head instantly, tightening her grip on Aiah's hand and keeping her head low as she refused to move from her spot on the floor. "No, no… dito lang ako, I'm sorry. Please talk to me na po, Misis ko," she sobbed like a child who's terrified of being grounded.

Aiah scoffed a little at the dramatic display, a tiny, affectionate smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I'm talking to you right now, aren't I?" she said calmly, but that calm tone somehow made Mikha's overflowing emotions even worse because she thought Aiah was still being detached.

"I'm really, really sorry, Misis ko. Patawad po," Mikha said, sniffing dramatically as she tried to catch her breath, still sobbing as if her entire world's ending right then and there.

Aiah exhaled softly, a wave of pure warmth washing over her as she looked down at her beautiful, weeping wife. It brought her to a sweet, sudden realization of the ultimate truth in their relationship, that Mikha may have been the one to carry their child for nine months, but at the end of the day, Mikha had always been her very first baby.

She exhaled again, the heavy emotions fully lifting from her chest as she took in the sight of her child-like wife crying over her lap like that. 

As a natural part of her love language toward her weeping wife, she decided to tease her a bit, keeping the tone light with just a little pinch more of drama to see Mikha's cute reactions. She's careful not to make fun of Mikha's actual crying, but she just can't resist pushing her buttons a tiny bit more.

"Maghiwalay na tayo ah, basta sa akin ang mga bata," Aiah said, completely straight-faced as she pertained to their baby Hiraya, their cats Lingling and Haru, and their dogs Honey and Shifu.

Mikha lifted her face up, looking pathetically funny with her red nose and wet cheeks. "Sige po, basta sa'kin ‘yung Nanay," she said firmly, her tears still falling as she bargained for the only prize she actually cared about.

Aiah was definitely caught off guard by the swift response, not expecting Mikha to say something back this quickly while in the middle of a breakdown. She instantly felt her cheeks warm up and her chest pulse loudly at the sheer smoothness of her wife's words.

"Sa'yo rin po ako, Misis ko, ‘wag mo po kalimutan," Mikha added with a pointy pout, more tears cascading down her face because she's being completely sincere and emotional in her declaration.

To Aiah, the entire display was just cute, and she couldn't help but reach out to cup Mikha's cheeks, using her thumbs to wipe away the fresh tears and gently fix the stray hairs blocking her wife's face. She leaned down and pressed a long, soft kiss against Mikha's forehead.

When Aiah finally pulled away, she didn't let go of her jaw. "Alam ko. Hindi ko nakakalimutan. Baka ikaw ang nakakalimot, Mikha Lim," Aiah said in a low tone that bordered on a dark, possessive warning.

Mikha shook her head frantically. "No, never. Sa'yo lang ako. Ayoko sa iba. Take me with you, please? Saan tayo pupunta?" she asked with a cute pout, completely missing the concept of a breakup.

Aiah couldn't help but chuckle at the hilarious sight and the absolute absurdity of the conversation, realizing she'd just teased Mikha about a separation and here her wife was, trying to pack her bags. 

"Mikha Lim, maghihiwalay nga, bakit ka sasama?" she said, playfully rolling her eyes while her thumbs kept moving on pure muscle memory to wipe the remaining tears away.

"Sama ako po..." Mikha said, her voice sounding like a cute, begging puppy. It wasn't heartbreaking anymore, it's just pure, unadulterated adoration.

"Ayoko," Aiah said, raising a single eyebrow and pulling a playful, stubborn attitude just to see how far Mikha would go.

Mikha wailed cutely again, her entire face crumpling. "Misis ko, bati na, please..." she begged, looking up with the most adorable expression she could muster.

"Pag-iisipan ko," Aiah said, though her hands were still tenderly holding her wife's cheeks, giving away her true feelings.

"Please? Bati na tayo, Misis ko?" Mikha said in a tiny, vulnerable voice, her hands carefully finding their way up to wrap around Aiah's waist while her eyes shimmered with unshed tears and her lips remained pouted.

Aiah rolled her eyes and let out a soft chuckle, finally reaching a point where she couldn't take the cuteness overload anymore. She leaned down to kiss Mikha's overly cute lips, starting with a gentle peck, then following it up with a few more lingering pecks that made Mikha whine softly against her mouth. 

Finally, Aiah slid her hand firmly along Mikha's jawline to tilt her head back, leaning in fully to kiss her wife hard and deep, pouring every single ounce of her possessiveness, reclaiming love into the kiss to show her exactly who she belonged to.

When they finally pulled away to catch their breath, their foreheads remained rested against each other, the heated air between them thick with a sudden, overwhelming relief.

"Bati na," Aiah said softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she gently tucked a stray lock of Mikha's hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering against the warm skin of her wife's cheek.

Mikha heard the words clearly, but her eyes were already focused on Aiah's parted lips, darting up to look into her wife's dark eyes, and then dropping right back down to her lips again. She let out a sharp gasp for air before leaning right back in to claim another deep kiss, her hands moving up to grip Aiah's shoulders. 

With a sudden burst of needy energy, Mikha pushed herself up from the floor, bringing Aiah with her and trying to press her wife down onto the mattress while keeping their lips locked together.

But Aiah wasn't having it this time, channeling her possessive, reclaiming self after a week of cold distance. She firmly but gently flipped their positions in one smooth motion, pinning Mikha beneath her and refusing to let her wife take over the rhythm. She wanted to physically remind Mikha exactly who she married and who she belonged to, setting a dominant pace that left no room for doubt.

Thank God Mikha had the foresight to lock the bedroom door earlier, although no one downstairs was going to dare disturb them anyway. 

Everyone in the house had easily sensed the heavy tension between them earlier that afternoon, and they're all lowkey thinking that the couple is now resolving everything and anything behind closed doors.

Which was exactly right, because their reconciliation quickly turned into an incredibly intimate, firm, and not-so-gentle resolution. It was the kind that filling the quiet space with a beautiful symphony of breathless moans, desperate curses, and each other's names whispered like a sacred prayer crying out for salvation and ultimate redemption.

· · ─ ᨒ ོ ☼ ─ · ·

Hiraya was now three years old, which still felt exactly like a beautiful dream, staying perfectly true to the meaning behind her chosen name. She's an incredibly bubbly kid, constantly asking nonstop questions out of pure curiosity in her sluggish, adorable baby words.

Despite her young age, she's already doing a wonderful job of understanding three to five multi-step commands now, like cleaning up her scattered toys, reaching out her tiny hand for a respectful ‘mano’ to the elders, and breaking into a joyful dance whenever music is played. 

She's just so incredibly full of life, which was obviously living evidence that she's indeed Aiah's daughter through and through.

Now, they're here inside a bustling grocery store in Manila where they're currently staying to visit Mikha's family, and their beloved Hiraya was running down the wide aisle while giggling uncontrollably.

"Don't run too much, love," Mikha called out, her voice filled with gentle warmth as she looked over to Aiah, who's currently pushing their large grocery cart.

Aiah understood the nonverbal sign instantly, recognizing the soft look in her wife's eyes. "Ako na po, Misis ko," she said with a bright smile, leaning in to press a quick kiss against Mikha's cheek before letting go of the cart handles to run after their little ray of sunshine.

Mikha smiled happily as she shook her head, taking over the cart herself while she carefully inspected the colorful aisle, taking exactly what they needed from the shelves and putting the items neatly into their cart.

While Mikha was fully occupied reading the nutritional labels of some organic cookies for their Hiraya, someone's unexpected presence came closer, and a familiar voice spoke out from just behind her shoulder.

"Mikha?"

When Mikha turned around to see who it was, she too was genuinely surprised by how her body wasn't reacting negatively or tensing up anymore. The old bitterness was completely gone.

"Sophia..."

Sophia took a deep, quiet breath as she drank in the sight of her ex-lover's glowing aura. She couldn't help but smile, although she felt completely confident that there's definitely someone wonderful in Mikha's life already who's making her this happy, to the absolute point that she's practically radiant.

"Kumusta?" Sophia managed to ask, her voice remarkably soft.

Mikha was quite surprised at the sudden softness of Sophia's voice, which was so far from the proud Sophia she'd met years ago who wouldn't even bother to ask that kind of question.

"Great! Thanks. How ‘bout you, Atty?" Mikha responded, keeping her tone completely casual, relaxed, and civil.

Sophia nodded slowly, her eyes shimmering with a few unshed tears as she looked at the rings on Mikha's finger. "Not anymore..." she said quietly.

Mikha knitted her brows in slight confusion as she continued to glance down at the labels of the cookies, then she lifted her eyes again to look at her ex. "What do you mean?" she asked simply, wanting to be polite.

"An attorney... I quit, it wasn't really for me after all," Sophia answered with an obvious, lingering sadness in her tone, her eyes filled with a deep longing toward the woman who's currently busy reading ingredients. "...but I'm doing good, I guess," she added a little pathetically, suddenly feeling a wave of self-pity when she realized just how stark the contrast was between her empty life and Mikha's obvious fulfillment.

Staring down at the beautiful rings on Mikha's fingers, Sophia was just about to speak again, her mind overflowing with curiosity about how Mikha's life had gone so well after they broke up and whether she's truly happier now. But all of those lingering questions died down the exact moment a bright, bubbly baby's giggles filled the quiet grocery aisle.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Sophia turned her head toward the sound and immediately felt her heart break into pieces at the sight, and she's even more surprised when Mikha responded without a second thought.

"Yes po, my love?" Mikha asked sweetly, her entire face softening in an instant.

Aiah was stepping closer to Mikha, carrying the exact child who'd just loudly called Mikha her mommy. Sophia instinctively stepped aside a little bit, not needing anymore spoken words from Aiah to make her move out of their space.

Little Hiraya lifted her tiny hands, and Aiah happily transferred their child over into her wife's eager arms. 

Once the baby was settled, Aiah's right hand landed firmly on Mikha's waist, resting there possessively while she slid her left hand casually into her pocket, looking at Sophia with highly observant but noticeably cold eyes.

Mikha's attention was practically stolen by the beaming sunshine in her arms, who's currently mumbling a million things at once, describing objects they'd seen in the other aisles, and attempting some elaborate storytelling that Mikha wasn't really understanding completely, though she nodded along anyway. 

At the exact same time, she felt that firm, protective grip on her waist, and she definitely liked it, it's easily one of Aiah's traits that she loves the most.

Sophia was just standing there watching how effortlessly Mikha and Aiah listened to the child's creative storytelling, and as she stared at the three of them, the heavy weight of reality started hitting her slowly in the face.

"Anak mo?" Sophia asked, deliberately directing the question to Mikha alone.

The phrasing was an absolute insult to Aiah's place in their family, but she managed to remain entirely cool, keeping her composure perfectly. 

Mikha noticed the slight instantly, so she reached down and took Aiah's hand, holding it firmly with her free hand while she continued to carry their Hiraya with the other, making her stance perfectly clear before she spoke.

"Anak namin," Mikha said, offering a sharp, unyielding correction before she smiled flatly at her.

Even though Sophia had already noticed how much the little girl looked exactly like Aiah, she'd asked anyway. 

Maybe she just wanted to hurt herself a little bit more, or maybe she never truly wanted to heal the deep wound that Mikha's departure had left in her life years ago.

Mikha and Aiah politely excused themselves to continue their shopping, and to break Sophia's heart even more, the bright and bubbly Hiraya turned around and waved goodbye adorably to the stranger.

Sophia only watched them walk away as fresh tears blurred her eyes, slowly lifting her hand to wave back at the innocent child who's happily waving goodbye to her.

Thinking it's supposed to be her, thinking it's supposed to be their future, thinking it's them. But then she realizes, a devastating truth all by herself, that she never ever deserved it after everything.

Later that night, the day finally settled down inside the Lim residence. 

They're now cuddling comfortably in their large bed, enjoying the rare peace of having just the two of them alone together since their baby girl had stubbornly requested to sleep next to her Lolo and Lola downstairs, and the grandparents gladly welcomed their bubbly angel.

"Are you okay, Misis ko?" Aiah asked softly, breaking the silence as she felt Mikha move even closer to snuggle deeply into her side.

Mikha nodded gently and hummed in absolute satisfaction, positioning herself the exact way she always wanted to be beside Aiah, with her head resting perfectly against her wife's chest. "Why'd you ask?" she murmured softly, lifting her face slightly to look up into her wife's eyes.

"Wala naman po," Aiah said, her voice carrying a trace of lingering vulnerability as she held Mikha firmly against her, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead before pulling her wife’s body even closer into her embrace.

Mikha instantly sensed the slight tremors in Aiah's touch, knowing her wife well enough to read the quiet insecurity still hiding beneath the surface. "Misis ko?" she called out softly, pulling away just a little bit more so she could meet Aiah's eyes directly.

"Hmm?" Aiah asked, looking down at her, trying to keep her expression neutral.

"Ikaw pa rin, Aiah. Ikaw palagi," Mikha said, delivering each word deliberately and surely, making sure there's absolutely no room for doubt in her voice.

Aiah let out a soft, relieved exhale upon hearing those beautiful, familiar words. "Kung p'wede kang pumili ng iba?" she asked, her tone carrying a genuine, quiet curiosity about how their destiny played out.

"Pipiliin pa rin kita," Mikha said without a single second of hesitation, lifting her hand gently to rest it against Aiah's jawline, her thumb tracing the soft skin there.

"Ganun kasimple?" Aiah asked, a tiny smile finally tugging at the corners of her lips as she pulled Mikha even closer by the waist, anchoring her tightly against her body.

Mikha smiled back, her eyes shining with pure devotion as she answered, "Ganun kasigurado," before she leaned up to give her wife a soft, lingering kiss on the lips.

Then they continued to kiss, both of them smiling in between the slow, rhythmic presses of their mouths and the gentle, reassuring touches of their hands. 

Resting forehead against forehead, they closed their eyes with a deep, unshakable peace, knowing that out of all the choices they've made, choosing each other was the best one, since they're finally right where they belong, and they are finally home.

── 𝓯𝓲𝓷. ᯓ ✈︎ ⋆°•* ੈ♡‧₊˚

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