A resounding knock on the door jolted me from the depths of slumber, pulling me reluctantly into the waking world.
The room was still dimly lit, its tranquility undisturbed by the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains.
The morning had begun its slow ascent, painting delicate patterns of illumination across the walls and floor.
The room, which had been shrouded in darkness throughout the night, now seemed to awaken with a subtle grace, each beam of sunlight bringing with it the promise of a new day.
The sun's rays, filtered through the curtains, created a dance of golden hues, casting intricate patterns on the room's surfaces.
With a sense of grogginess and disorientation, I sat up in bed, the sheets slipping from my bathrobe-clad form.
I strained my ears, wondering if it was merely a product of my half-awake imagination. But then it came again, that insistent knocking.
I reluctantly got out of bed, my feet finding the cool surface of the floor.
As I made my way to the bedroom door.
The knocks continued, growing more impatient with each passing moment.
With a sense of trepidation, I reached for the doorknob and slowly opened the door, revealing the source of the disturbance.
It was Erwin, standing there with an angry expression.
"Rina! What hour is it? We've yet to have our breakfast, and you're well aware of the important meeting with Grandma we have planned!!". Erwin's voice thundered, shattering the tranquility of the morning.
Summoning every ounce of my strength, I rallied myself to prepare breakfast for my beloved husband.
My body felt like an anchor, but duty called, and I answered.
While preparing breakfast, a peculiar sensation gnawed at my stomach, as though unseen hands were unearthing something deep within me.
Such inexplicable moments had become oddly frequent, puzzling me with their origins.
*Bwakkkhh bwaakkkh* (sound of vomit)
The retching sound, an unsavory accompaniment, filled the air as my stomach expelled its contents, leaving me drained and vulnerable, leaning against the unforgiving lavatory.
As I peered into the mirror, a stranger stared back at me—a woman unrecognizable, her once radiant, porcelain skin replaced by an ashen pallor.
Calluses now marred the once-delicate hands that had known a life of shopping and salon visits.
The pleasures of yore had been sacrificed on the altar of matrimony, as I struggled to learn the domestic arts necessary to win Erwin's elusive heart.
A loveless union it might be, but I clung to the hope that someday, he might learn to love me in return.
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"Rina! Rina! What in the world are you doing? My family already awaits us!" Erwin's impatient cries echoed through the house.
"Just a moment, Erwin! I'm finishing Grandma's favorite dish," I replied, concealing my secret smile.
Erwin's irritation, displayed so vividly on his handsome visage, held a curious charm.
He, Erwin Victor Reymundo, my husband for a year now, hadn't married me out of love, but out of necessity for his inheritance.
The Reymundo family adored me, but Erwin remained an enigma, never quite surrendering himself to me.
Before our union, his heart had belonged to another—Helena.
In the face of this truth, I had maintained my silence, even as they continued their illicit trysts, heedless of my status as Erwin's lawful wife.
Perhaps his affection for Helena ran so deep that he could not bear to acknowledge our marriage.
I was but a clandestine partner, a means to secure his legacy.
Yet, I yearned to see their illicit affair crumble.
If Helena discovered that her lover was secretly wed to her former friend, the consequences would be cataclysmic.
Once, Helena had been my dearest friend, but our shared affection for Erwin had fractured our bond, shattering the harmony of our friendship.
Erwin's final choice had wounded me deeply.....
Despite our shared history since childhood, he had selected Helena....
But what could Helena hope for? Their love remained undocumented, while I, the legal wife, was embraced by Erwin's family.
I resolved to fight for Erwin's love, to persevere until he reciprocated my affections....
The battle for his heart had just begun....
"Rina, what's taking so long!?" Erwin's voice sounded impatient, breaking the morning's tranquility.
Hurrying to appease my impatient husband, I concealed my inner mirth.
Even in his vexation, Erwin's handsomeness shone through, a sight I cherished in secret.
As his scrutiny dissected my chosen attire, he expressed his dissatisfaction, a frown etched across his features.
His concern bordered on the absurd as if I had emerged in rags before his family.
"Is this your chosen attire for today, Rina?" Erwin's tone was laden with disapproval.
"Grandma is where we're headed, and she'll surely scold me if she perceives my neglect because of your appearance!."
I inspected my clothing—a loose white tee and comfortable pants.
Was it truly so disagreeable as to merit such a reaction?
"Why worry? Grandma isn't concerned with my attire.. she delights in simply seeing me."
"Are you insinuating that you'll wear this and embarrass me in front of my family? Is that your intention!?" Erwin's response was swift and severe.
His words stung, implying that my face or choice of clothing might bring him shame.
Anger simmered within me....
"Tell me, Erwin, what exactly do you find offensive? Is my appearance such a grievous affront to you?...or does my wardrobe choice today mortify you to this extent?" I challenged, as he attempted to regain composure.
"No,...all I want to say is that you changed the clothes you are wearing because I gave you a good dress yesterday" he remarked, the utterance carrying with it an unspoken current of meaning.
"Is that for me?" I asked, my voice laced with a curious blend of curiosity and suspicion.
In that moment, I found myself at a crossroads between truth and evasion.
"I thought it was for Helena," I confessed, my words tinged with a hint of defensiveness.
However, his response was a sharp reminder of the nuances in our relationship.
"What does the dress I gave you have to do with Helena?" He questioned.
With the weight of his gaze pressing upon me, he hesitated before speaking.
"Don't you tend to imitate almost everything she wears?, so, what's wrong if I give you one?" He added.
His words struck a chord, a painful realization that he didn't truly know me.
Despite our lifelong friendship, he had failed to grasp the essence of my identity.
He believed I emulated Helena's style, yet it was Helena who had once mirrored my choices in clothing, makeup, and jewelry.
Our resemblance had often led to confusion, branding us as twins when we ventured out together.
Helena's emulation forced me to adapt, simplifying my attire for the sake of differentiation.
Had Erwin offered such a dress before, I might have accepted it without hesitation....
It took moments to reclaim my equilibrium.
"Tsk, I've moved beyond those garments; consider giving them to Helena. She'd likely appreciate them more," I retorted.
"No, Rina, I merely thought you'd appreciate the dresses I bought yesterday"
"And I don't see how this relates to Helena, who often wears such attire". Erwin replied.Â
As he walked, Erwin's voice dripped with frustration as he muttered under his breath,
"And if my gifts seem to displease you that much, then discard them!....Next time, I won't bother giving you anything that will seem to be a waste on you."
He then entered the car, leaving behind a sense of disappointment.
"What are you waiting for!? Get in the car; we're departing! If you don't wish to change, no one compels you!" he snapped when he saw me still not entering his car.Â
I inhaled deeply, internalizing his demeanor.
"Self, you have to endure this guy" I whispered, mustering my strength and following him into the car.