Chapter Text
The first thing I noticed when I woke up wasn’t the headache.
It was the sunlight. Too bright. Too early. Too real.
And once again, I am not in my bed. Not in my room. And this is not my life.
The girl beside me stirred, hair messy against the pillow, blinking slowly as she looked at me.
“Morning,” she said, voice soft.
I hummed in response, already sitting up, reaching for my shirt from the floor.
Nothing new.
“Aalis ka na?” she asked.
“I still have to open my clinic,” I said simply.
She pushed herself up slightly, studying me like she was trying to decide something.
“Aiah,” she said after a beat. “By the way.”
I paused just long enough to glance at her.
Then I looked away, slipping on my watch.
“I don’t do names.”
There was a short silence.
Then she laughed. Not offended. Just amused.
“Of course you don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “You seem like that type.”
I didn’t answer.
I just reached for my ring and slid it back onto my finger like it belonged there.
Her eyes caught it immediately.
“Fuck. You’re married."
I adjusted the ring slightly. “Didn't stop you last night."
She smirked. “Didn’t stop you either.”
Fair.
I grabbed my keys and headed for the door.
No reason to stay. Exactly how I liked it.
And as I stepped out into the morning, something about the quiet felt… familiar. Lonely, I guess.
You know, I wasn’t always like this. I used to believe in one love. One person. The kind you grow old with. The kind you don’t question.
For me, that was Reign.
Eleven years ago, I was standing in a suit that cost more than my first car. It was our wedding day. Well... It was supposed to be.
People always say you don’t see the signs. But sometimes the signs are screaming, they are in big red bold text but you just don’t want to see them.
That time, I wasn’t looking for her. I knew it was bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony. I just needed water. Or air. Or maybe a second where no one was congratulating me for something that hadn’t happened yet.
That’s when I heard her friend's voices. Then one of the bridesmaids said, “Sheena can’t even dance. Have you seen her at rehearsals? Parang tanga eh.”
Another voice chimed in, “Please. She’s trying so hard. It’s such an eyesore.”
Sheena. My sister. Her dream was to dance on stages bigger than this venue. She practiced until her feet bled. She loved it more than she loved sleep.
Their laughter didn’t matter.
Reign’s did, because she did too. Like it was nothing.
“But Mikha’s not exactly hot, hot, you know?” one of them said.
Someone asked, “Then why are you marrying her?”
And then she said the thing that split my life into before and after.
“Because Mikha’s going to be a doctor.”
More laughter.
“And I’m not stupid. Stability is sexy.”
Another bridesmaid lowered her voice but not enough. “So what about the guy you just fucked last night?”
Reign didn’t hesitate. “That’s different. That’s just fun.”
Fun.
The word hit harder than the cheating. Because fun is temporary. Fun is disposable. Fun is something you don’t keep.
Which meant I was never chosen. I was secured.
My hands went cold. I felt like exploding but I... I just turned around. Step by step, past the coordinators. Past the guests. Past my family. I don’t even know if anyone called my name. Because everything sounded underwater.
I don’t remember where I was driving to at first. I just remember my hands gripping the wheel so tight my knuckles hurt. I ended up at a bar somewhere in Antipolo.
Still in my suit. Still wearing the ring. I sat at the counter and stared at it under the dim yellow lights. It looked expensive. It looked permanent but it felt like a joke.
After drinking in a few shots, agirl asked if I was celebrating. I laughed. “Yep,” I said. “Something like that.”
Her hand brushed mine. “Oh, you’re married,” she said. I should’ve corrected her. I should’ve told her it was over or that I wasn’t anyone’s to touch. That I wasn’t a toy. But I didn’t. I let her think what she wanted. I let her believe the story she wanted. Because fun is temporary. Fun is disposable. Fun is what I would give the world from now on.
Morning came slow and brutal. There's a fully naked girl sleeping beside me. The ring was still on my finger. I held my hand up to the light and it looked useful.
The girl stirred beside me. Smiled lazily.
“You really shouldn’t be doing this,” she teased. “Your wife must be devastated.”
Wife. Nice joke, I thought. I looked at the ring. Then at her.
“She is,” I said quietly.
It wasn’t even fully a lie. “She doesn’t love me anymore. We just… stay. For convenience.”
The girl’s expression shifted. Not guilt. Intrigue. “So this is revenge?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Call it survival.”
That was the first story.
After that, the stories got easier. Sometimes I was in a loveless marriage. Sometimes we were separated but still legally bound. Sometimes she cheated first. Sometimes I stayed for the kids we didn’t have.
I just let people fill in the blanks. The ring did most of the work. I know I wasn’t cruel. I never lied, I just never told the whole truth.
Because the truth was simple. I wasn’t afraid of love. I was afraid of being chosen for the wrong reasons again. So I made sure no one ever got the chance to choose me at all.
Years would pass. Residency. Boards. Clinics. A life built on precision, control, and distance. I became Dr. Mikhaela Lim. Orthodontist. But the ring? It stayed. Because I know, no one does.
-
Mikha tapped the last patient chart into the system and glanced at the clock. 7:58 p.m. Clinic closing in two minutes. She leaned back, stretching her shoulders, and allowed herself a small grin. Another day, another smile fixed.
“Ok ka na, Doc?” Jhoanna’s voice rang from the other side of the reception.
“Yep,” Mikha said, still straightening instruments. “Unlike you, you're so slow.”
Jhoanna smirked. “Please. Ikaw nga puro harot sa mga patients mo."
“Blah, Blah, It makes the payments easier.” Mikha said easily. She slipped her engagement ring back into place on her finger. Gold glinting under the fluorescent lights. Some people thought it was a symbol. Some people thought it was a warning. She knew the truth: it was armor. Always had been.
“Payments or flirts?” Jhoanna teased, leaning on the counter. “Suot mo nanaman yan"
“Mm-hmm,” Mikha replied. “Mag bar hopping kami ni Colet mamaya."
The bell above the door jingled. Two small children barreled in, Chaos entered the clinic like a gust of wind.
“Ma!” the little girl shouted, waving a crumpled drawing. “Look!”
“Mama!” the boy followed, quieter but fast, clutching something in his small hands.
Jhoanna instantly groaned. “Ay nako. You two, no running 'di ba.” She didn’t sound annoyed. More like… used to it.
“Babies, I told you already, low voices sa clinic,” she said, already kneeling to fix Eli’s backpack strap.
Eli. Seven. Loud. Bright. Always talking like the world was listening.
“I drew a piano!” Eli said proudly, shoving the paper forward. " I really want to learn. Like lessons. Not just YouTube. I can learn, I promise.”
“Eli,” Jhoanna warned gently. “We’ll see.”
Eli turned sharply toward Mikha instead. "Doc Mikha, do you play piano?”
That made Mikha pause.
A small one.
“…I used to,” she said.
Eli’s eyes widened like she had just unlocked a secret level. “Really? Then you can teach me!”
Mikha let out a short breath through her nose. Almost a laugh.
“I don’t teach,” she said.
Eli didn’t lose momentum.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t have time,” Mikha replied simply.
Eli nodded like that was a challenge, not an answer.
“Okay,” she said seriously. “Then when you have time.”
Mikha looked at her for a second.
“…Okay.....Bold assumption..." she muttered.
Eli just grinned.
Behind them, Skye finally spoke. "The ocean doesn’t have piano,” he said quietly.
Mikha glanced down at him. He was holding his drawing again. Blue waves. Repeated patterns.
“It doesn’t?” Mikha asked.
Skye shook his head. "But it has rhythm,” he added. “Like breathing. But bigger.”
“You like the ocean a lot, kid." she said. Mikha studied him a little longer this time.
Eli was already spinning around the clinic chair like it was a stage. Skye had moved closer to the waiting area window, staring out like the glass was a different world entirely.
“Where’s their father?” Mikha whispered to Jhoanna.
“Wala,” she said simply. “And he plans to keep it that way.” Jhoanna didn’t even look up.
Mikha hummed lightly.
Jhoanna sighed, already tired. “Okay very much peculiar children, uwi na tayo.”
Eli immediately grabbed her hand first.
“Mom, Doc Mikha used to play piano!”
“Yes, baby. We'll talk about it sa bahay." Jhoanna said.
Skye followed quietly, but before leaving, he looked back at Mikha, “Doctor Mikha, Is La Union too far? I heard its near the ocean.”
Before she could even answer, Eli pulls Skye away and rushes out the door.
Mikha stayed still for a second, laughing at what just happened. “…Strange kids, mana kay Jhoanna" she said lightly.
But she didn’t sound like she meant it as an insult.