Chapter 1

Six years had passed since Jayceon Melendez and Arabella Palmer ended their relationship, yet the past had a way of circling back. Now, unexpectedly, Jayceon’s first love had returned from overseas—and she wasn’t alone. She had come back with a little boy, no older than five.

Since that day, Jayceon had been absent from their home for a whole month. Each time Arabella asked, he brushed it off, saying he was tied up on a business trip. But today was different. It was supposed to be special—it was their third wedding anniversary.

Arabella had spent the afternoon preparing a romantic dinner, the kind that glowed softly under flickering candlelight. She’d even wrapped a gift, carefully chosen to express the feelings she still held inside. When evening fell, she sent Jayceon a message on WhatsApp, hoping he would respond, hoping he would come home.

She waited. The clock’s hands inched toward nine o’clock, but still, he hadn’t returned.

Just then, her phone rang. It was Kimberly, Jayceon’s sister. “Bella, you need to check the messages I sent you,” Kimberly urged.

Arabella’s fingers trembled as she ended the call and opened their chat. Her eyes skimmed the screenshots Kimberly had forwarded, and in an instant, the smile she’d been holding onto vanished completely.

The plate she was holding slipped from her grasp, crashing to the floor in a sharp, shattering sound. Glass shards scattered around her feet, and one cut into her ankle, drawing a thin line of blood. But Arabella barely noticed the sting. She stood frozen, as if numb, unable to process the pain.

The images Kimberly had sent were from Jayceon’s Instagram. He had rented out the entire Mondi Beach. Right now, he was there celebrating a birthday—with his first love. Fireworks lit up the night sky, showering the scene with bursts of color.

Arabella scrolled through the photos: the golden sands of the beach, a sleek yacht bobbing in the water, brilliant fireworks exploding overhead, and bouquets of roses scattered about. In one picture, Jayceon cradled a small boy in one arm, while his other hand, wearing the wedding ring Arabella knew so well, rested possessively on the waist of a woman.

The moments captured were breathtaking, filled with warmth and romance. The caption beneath read: “Homemade blueberry cake for my beloveds.”

Their love was unmistakably clear.

Arabella’s mind went blank. She tried to open Jayceon’s profile herself, but it was as if he had vanished—no posts, no pictures. She opened her mouth, desperate to speak, but no words came out. When had he hidden his life from her? When had he set his posts to be invisible to her eyes?

Those screenshots shattered the fragile hope she’d been clinging to for so long.

Burning with fury, Arabella dialed Jayceon’s number.

He didn’t answer.

She called again.

After the third time, he hung up on her.

Then, a curt text arrived: “I’m busy.”

His impatience stung more than the rejection.

A tumult of emotions crashed over her—helplessness, jealousy, anger, and deep resentment. She curled inward, clutching her head as if to hold herself together. Her heart felt like it was breaking into a thousand pieces, making each breath a struggle.

Unable to contain the pain, she let out a scream, pulling at her hair in frustration before collapsing into tears.

A soft knock interrupted her anguish.

With effort, she rose and opened the door.

Kimberly stood there, her eyes wide with concern. “Bella, what happened? Are you okay?”

Tears still glistened on Arabella’s cheeks as she shook her head, her voice barely a whisper.

Kimberly’s frustration erupted. “No way. Let’s go to Mondi Beach right now and confront Jay!”

Arabella took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “Kim, I need to handle this on my own.”

Her mother was recovering from heart bypass surgery in the hospital, fragile and vulnerable. Arabella couldn’t afford to fall apart now.

By the time Kimberly left, the clock had passed midnight.

Arabella wandered through the quiet house like a ghost, her emotions dulled to numbness.

She and Jayceon had grown up side by side. Everyone in their circle had known about her crush on him since childhood. But they also knew Jayceon had never truly moved on from his first love—the girl he had been forced to leave behind.

Their marriage had been arranged by their families, a union of convenience rather than passion.

For three years, Arabella had hoped that her efforts might win his heart, but it never happened. Instead, she learned that Jayceon and his first love had rekindled their relationship.

After twenty-five years—years filled with childhood affection and a three-year marriage—everything she had believed in felt meaningless.

It was time to let go.

Arabella knew what she had to do next, but the ache in her chest was so deep it almost stole her breath. She was torn, caught between the logic that told her to move on and the emotions that refused to let go.

***

That night, Jayceon still didn’t come home.

For the next three days, Arabella remained at the hospital, caring for her mother. Not once did Jayceon call or send a message.

When her mother’s condition finally stabilized, her father urged her to return home and rest.

Late that night, half-awake, Arabella stirred as the bedroom door creaked open quietly.

The sound of running water soon followed from the bathroom.

Moments later, she felt the mattress dip beside her. The faint scent of a man’s shower gel filled the air, stirring her senses.

Before she fully registered what was happening, she found herself wrapped in Jayceon’s arms.

After more than a month apart, he had finally come back.

He must have been happy with his new family.

Feeling the tension in her body, Jayceon knew she was awake. He tightened his hold around her waist and gently turned her to face him.

His lips brushed hungrily along her sensitive neck. Beneath the blanket, his hand skillfully slid down the strap of her nightgown.

In all their three years of marriage, Jayceon had only ever been this tender and passionate with her in private.

Every time she witnessed this side of him, Arabella had foolishly believed it was proof of his love.

But this time, instinctively, she grasped his hand as it roamed her body and, for the first time, whispered, “Don’t.”

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