From the moment she returned, Zaldy devoted himself to her as though she were his chosen queen. For an entire year, I watched him attend to her every request, fund her ventures, and rearrange his empire to suit her needs. I, meanwhile, was offered nothing but distant words and hollow gestures.
A year ago, I opened my own art gallery—something I had built from nothing with my own vision and effort. Zaldy never showed. Not even briefly. Instead, he sent flowers with a generic card that felt more like an obligation than a celebration.
Yet when Maria needed him at the airport, he arrived immediately. When she required security, financing, or connections, he handled every detail personally—treating her life as if it outweighed mine entirely.
I became a ghost within my own home, invisible to the man I had once believed was my future.
The resentment finally erupted as I followed him upstairs, my voice shaking but resolute.
“Why are you so heartless, Zaldy?” I demanded. “You skipped my gallery opening. You rushed to Maria’s side without hesitation. You invested everything into her operations. And now you can’t even spare a few hours for my graduation? Is it always going to be her?”