A Heart No Longer Waiting

"Ms. Medici, you've officially purchased the island. It's completely off the grid—once you're in, no one can find you. Also, the custom-made family you requested is ready. They're professionally trained to give you nothing but unconditional love." Chapter 1 Belgrave, Novastra. "Ms. Medici, you've officially purchased the island. It's completely off the grid—once you're in, no one can find you. Also, the custom-made family you requested is ready. They're professionally trained to give you nothing but unconditional love." The staff member's voice came through the phone, smooth and respectful. Yara Medici hummed in response. "I'll move in after I wrap things up here. Thirty days." She hung up and glanced at her reflection. Wrapped in a pristine white wedding gown, she looked almost unreal. The fabric sparkled with embedded diamonds—each one an obvious fortune. "Ms. Medici, have you finished trying on your gown? Mr. Lopez has been waiting outside to see you." The sales associate's soft voice pulled her back to reality. She hesitated, then said, "I'm ready." The associate swept back the curtain. Yara turned just in time to catch Mateo Lopez's expression. For a split second, his eyes flickered with something—maybe awe. "Yara, you look stunning." He froze, then stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her. His voice wavered, thick with emotion. "Seven years... and I'm finally marrying you." How much must someone love another to sound like that? Still dazed, she barely registered the sales associate chirping beside her. "Ms. Medici, Mr. Lopez personally designed this gown. He hand-picked every diamond—each one worth a fortune. And there are ninety-nine of them! “Most grooms grow impatient waiting, but Mr. Lopez has been involved in every step without a single complaint. He truly loves you." Yara glanced at Mateo, taking it all in. His eyes held nothing but love—so different from the cold, untouchable heir of Belgrave's elite the media made him out to be. Not just the world, but even she had been fooled. After leaving the boutique, they walked outside together. Ever the gentleman, Mateo held the car door open, shielding the top so she wouldn't hit her head. Once she was settled, he shut it gently before slipping in beside her. As the car rolled forward, his assistant, Kevin, started his report. "Mr. Lopez, the woman who tried sneaking into your bed has been dealt with. She won't be coming back to Belgrave." Mateo's voice turned sharp. "Handle these things privately. Don't upset Yara." Then, just as quickly, his tone softened. He reached for her hand. "Yara, don't be mad. She never touched me. Her perfume got on me, but I washed it off ten times before coming home. I swear, you're the only one in my heart—you know that." She did. Women had been throwing themselves at him for years, yet he never crossed the line. He always kept his distance. But knowing that didn't bring her any comfort. She forced a small smile. "I know." Mateo didn't notice anything off. Still holding her hand, he pulled out his phone to check his messages. Then, suddenly— "Stop the car!" The tires screeched. Before Yara could ask what was wrong, Mateo had already thrown the door open. "Something urgent. Kevin will take you home, okay?" It wasn't a question. Without hesitation, he left her behind. Yara watched Mateo disappear, then pulled out her phone and opened Helen's social media page. A new post. A picture of a swollen ankle. The caption? [Twisted my ankle. It hurts so much.] Her vision blurred with heat. Mateo's sudden urgency made sense now. Why was it always Helen? Yara had been engaged twice. First, to Steven Varga, heir to Varga Corp. Their families had arranged it when they were kids, and she'd fallen for him at first sight. For years, she followed him, loved him, but his heart had never been hers. It belonged to her younger sister, Helen. She was just an obstacle. For seven years, she endured his indifference—until she couldn't anymore. And when she finally let go, she saw the one who had always been there. Mateo. While she chased Steven, while she broke over and over, Mateo was the one who picked up the pieces. He seemed devoted, never asking for anything in return. Just waiting. Always waiting. So she chose him. Cleared out her heart and let him in. She thought, 'This time, I got it right.' Then, one day, she overheard him talking to a friend. "You don't even love Yara. Are you really going to marry her?" Mateo's voice, thick with alcohol, was quiet. "Yeah. It's the only way Helen can be happy." His friend sighed. "You're unbelievable. You loved Helen in secret for years, but when she fell for Steven and was set to marry him, you went after his fiancée instead. Congrats, you got Yara to step aside for your precious Helen. But do you even realize what you've done? You just threw away your own future." Mateo's voice softened, but his words cut deep. "As long as Helen is happy, I'll do anything." Standing outside the door, Yara felt like she'd been struck by lightning. Mateo's seven years of devotion—his tenderness, his unwavering love—it was all a lie. His heart had always belonged to Helen. How noble. He was willing to sacrifice his entire life just to make Helen happy. He played his role so well she never once doubted him. Never imagined his love was just another illusion, that he only pursued her to clear the way for Helen. That night, she stood in the rain until dawn, crying until there was nothing left. From as far back as she could remember, her parents had adored Helen, leaving no love for her. As she grew up, the fiancé she gave her heart to loved Helen too, never once seeing her. And now, even the man she thought truly loved her—Mateo—had only ever cared about Helen. Everyone loved Helen. No one loved Yara. That night, she made a choice. If there was no one in Belgrave who wanted her, she'd leave. She'd disappear to some remote, uninhabited island, cut off from the world. She'd pay for a family, a boyfriend—people made just for her—and live out the rest of her life in peace. Even if they were only there because she paid them, at least they'd stay. From this day on—her parents, Steven, Mateo—they meant nothing to her. Chapter 2 The car pulled up in front of the house Mateo had set up for their married life. As soon as Yara stepped out, she started packing. She tossed out everything she had ever left in this house, wiping away every trace of herself. Then, she started preparing to erase her identity—deleting accounts, cutting ties, anything to make sure they'd never find her again." No choice. She had to go back to the Medici residence. An hour later, she stood at the entrance. Her own home, yet she didn't even have a key. Even knocking took effort—because she knew. She wasn't welcome here. The housekeeper took her sweet time answering the door. When Yara stepped inside, she spotted her parents, Benjamin and Milada, pacing anxiously in the living room. The second they saw her, their faces twisted with annoyance. "You?!" "You stay away for years, and now you come crawling back? Why can't you be more like Helen? You were born from the same mother, yet the difference between you two is night and day!" The same old scolding. She'd heard it for over twenty years. Now? She didn't care. Expression blank, she acted like she hadn't heard a thing. She headed upstairs, grabbed her documents, and slipped them into her bag before making her way back down. Her indifference only made Benjamin and Milada angrier. Their words cut deeper. "So now you just ignore us? Do you even acknowledge your parents anymore? No respect, no gratitude—how did we end up with such a useless daughter?!" Just as their shouting hit its peak, the front door suddenly swung open. Mateo stepped inside, Helen cradled in his arms. The moment he saw Yara standing in the center of the living room, his grip tightened. She glanced at them—close, familiar—then looked away, utterly indifferent. Her face was unreadable, but a sudden panic clawed at his chest. Quickly, he set Helen down and stepped toward her. "Yara, don't misunderstand. Helen twisted her ankle, and I just happened to be nearby, so I brought her back..." He trailed off, and Yara didn't even bother pointing out the obvious holes in his excuse. Helen, ever the actress, chimed in with a saccharine smile. "Steven's been away on a business trip, or I wouldn't have troubled Mateo. Yara, don't take it the wrong way." Benjamin and Milada instantly flocked to Helen, their faces full of concern. Helen wasn't done. "I've been spoiled since I was little, so even a tiny sprain hurts so much. Thankfully, Mateo got to me in time—he ran through a dozen red lights just to rush me to the hospital, and now he's even brought me home. I feel awful for being such a burden." She smiled sweetly, eyes flicking to Yara, waiting for her to snap, to break, to show even a flicker of jealousy. But Yara didn't flinch. Didn't react. Completely unfazed. Chapter 3 Helen didn't get the reaction she wanted. A new idea flashed in her eyes. "If it weren't for Mateo, I don't even know how swollen my ankle would've gotten. Since we're all here, why don't we have dinner together? Consider it my way of saying thanks!" Her tone was bright, cheerful—a sharp contrast to Yara's silence. No one asked Yara if she wanted to stay. The decision was already made for her. When dinner was finally served, she took her seat at the table and immediately noticed—every dish was spicy. Helen's favorite. She wasn't surprised. She had once told Benjamin and Milada, in passing, that her stomach couldn't handle spicy food. Their response? "Stop being so dramatic." Later, when she was with Mateo, he had always been careful with her food. He even learned to cook dishes that wouldn't upset her stomach. But tonight, though he sat right beside her, he never even glanced her way. His attention was fixed entirely on Helen. At the slightest movement, he rushed to pass her a napkin, to serve her food. Yara suddenly remembered— How, back when Mateo came to the Medici residence for her, his gaze would always drift toward Helen. How, on Helen's birthday, he'd casually ask about her favorite things, as if it were just a passing thought. How, whenever Helen fell ill, he'd suddenly have urgent business to attend to. A bitter smile tugged at Yara's lips. It had always been so obvious. How had she only seen it now? But no matter how much Mateo loved Helen, he had no right to use Yara as a pawn. His deception—giving up his entire life just for Helen's sake—hurt far worse than Steven's outright rejection. Dinner ended. She barely touched her food. The drive back was silent. She was thinking about changing her name and cutting ties for good. He, most likely, was still lost in the warmth of his time with Helen. Finally, Yara broke the silence. "I'm not going home. I need to go somewhere else." Mateo snapped out of his thoughts, turning to her. His voice was gentle. "Where do you need to go? I'll come with you." "No need," she replied, shaking her head. But he reached for her hand, firm. "I can't let you go alone." She didn't argue. Just typed the address into the GPS and let him drive. The road was quiet. Before long, they neared their destination. Then—his phone rang. The moment he answered, Milada's voice cut through. "Mateo, Helen's wound is infected. She has a fever. Can you take her to the hospital?" "I'll be right there!" He immediately moved to turn the car around but hesitated, glancing at Yara. "Yara, I..." He struggled for words, torn. But before he could finish, she beat him to it. "Go ahead. I can walk the rest of the way." Without waiting for a response, she pushed open the door and stepped out. He watched for a second. Then, his concern for Helen won out. He restarted the car and sped off. Yara stood there, staring at the fading taillights, swallowing the bitterness rising in her chest. 'Mateo... if you had just driven a little farther... 'You would've seen my destination was the courthouse. 'You would've realized I was erasing myself from this life. 'But you didn't—because you never cared.' Chapter 4 The process was swift. Once it was done, Yara took a cab back to the house. Not long after, Mateo showed up, a box of cheese tarts in hand, his face full of apology. "Yara, you'll be my wife soon. That means Helen will be family too, so of course I'll take extra care of her. Don't misunderstand—I've chased after you for so many years. You should know you're the only one in my heart." Yara didn't know how he could lie so effortlessly. That bakery was in South Belgrave, halfway across the city. Their cheese tarts were famous—so popular that people waited in line for hours just to get a box. And Mateo had gone through all that trouble. Not for her. For Helen. Yara was exhausted. She didn't have the energy to play along anymore. Shaking her head, she turned down his attempt at reconciliation for the first time. "I'm not feeling well. I'm going to rest." Without waiting for his reaction, she headed straight to her room. Mateo hesitated. She was obviously upset, but he didn't think much of it. He figured she was still sulking about him leaving for Helen earlier. So, to make it up to her, he cleared his schedule and took her out—candlelit dinner, luxury shopping, and finally, a movie. They had just settled into their seats when a group of girls walked in. Right at the center was Helen. Mateo's expression didn't change, but Yara noticed how distracted he got. His gaze kept drifting toward Helen. By the time the movie was halfway through, Yara was sure he hadn't absorbed a single scene. She suddenly called his name. Mateo blinked, snapping out of his daze. "What is it, Yara?" "I'm not feeling well. Let's go." Her voice was calm, like she truly just wanted to leave. Mateo hesitated, sneaking one last glance at Helen. But in the end, he got up and left with Yara. Just as they stepped into the lobby—chaos erupted. Panicked voices. A stampede toward the exits. "Fire! The theater's on fire!" Mateo froze. His face went pale. Then, all at once, he turned, ready to charge back inside—only to see Helen's group rushing out. He immediately blocked their path, panic bleeding into his voice. "Where's Helen?!" The girls exchanged uneasy glances, their faces draining of color as realization sank in. One of them stammered, "H-Helen... I don't think she made it out yet..." Mateo's breath hitched. Fury ignited in his eyes, scorching away all reason. "I told you to take care of her!" Without another word, he spun around and sprinted toward the burning theater. He hadn't made it far before his driver intercepted him. "Mr. Lopez, the fire's too intense! The rescue team is on their way—" "Get out of my way!" Mateo snarled, shoving past him. Ignoring the screams, the warnings, the hands reaching to stop him— He ran straight into the flames. Chapter 5 The rescue team barely arrived before Mateo stumbled out—bloody, wrecked, and cradling an unconscious Helen like she was the most precious thing in the world. He laid her on the stretcher with unbearable gentleness, not even collapsing until he was sure she was okay. That's when everyone saw the wounds on his back. Yara's eyes burned, but not out of pity. No, it was something else—something that dragged her straight into the past. Mateo had chased after her for ages. And yeah, she'd noticed. She wasn't blind. But back then, she'd been too wrapped up in waiting for Steven to ever let Mateo in. Then came the collapse. The hospital. The diagnosis—kidney failure. She'd called her parents, sobbing, begging them to get tested. They hadn't even hesitated. No. They were taking Helen on a trip. Kidney failure wasn't fatal. And even if it was—well, they told her to call after she was dead. Then they hung up. She'd been drowning in hopelessness when Mateo had quietly stepped in. Got tested. Didn't even tell her. Just went under the knife. She hadn't found out he was the donor until after the surgery. She'd sat by his bed, crying like her heart had been ripped out. And when he finally woke up, he'd just pulled her close, thumb brushing away her tears. "Don't cry," he'd whispered. "I wanted to do this." She'd only cried harder. That was the moment she thought—maybe it was time to stop waiting for something that would never happen. Maybe she should finally see the one person who had always been there. But by the time she'd fallen, it was already too late. Because it had never been real. And now, watching him, she knew the truth. Mateo had always been willing to risk everything for love. Just not for her. It had always been Helen. *** Mateo's injuries were bad. Weeks in the hospital bed. Once upon a time, Yara would've lost it over even a scratch on him. Now? She didn't even think about visiting. Not when Kevin showed up saying Mateo wanted to see her. She just ignored it and went on with her life. Then, late one night, she woke up feeling... off. Heavy. And that's when she realized—someone was holding her. Mateo. Still in a hospital gown, head bandaged, body barely stitched back together. Yet here he was, clinging to her like he had any right to. Silent. Desperate. She struggled against him, shoving him off. "How did you get back here?" "I missed you," he murmured, head still buried against her neck. Then softer, like he was the one hurting—"Did you not get Kevin's messages? You never visited. Not once. "Is it because I saved Helen? "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you. But she's your sister, Yara. It was an emergency—I had to save her. But I swear... I've only ever loved you. "I was just looking out for Helen like a brother. That's all. There's nothing else. "Please, Yara... don't be mad at me anymore." He sounded so sincere, so convincing that if Yara didn't know the truth... She might've believed him. But she knew better. Mateo wasn't here because he cared—he was scared. Scared she'd see through him. Scared it would ruin the wedding. Scared that if she walked, Helen wouldn't get what she wanted. Honestly? He didn't need to keep up this act. Didn't need to worry. None of this would matter soon. Very soon, these people would be nothing to her. She'd be gone. A fresh start. A life filled with love—even if it was fabricated. Better than the hollow kind she'd known before. Because if none of it was ever real... then why should it matter what was? Chapter 6 "I'm not mad." Yara met Mateo's gaze, her expression serious. She hesitated, like she wasn't sure he'd buy it, then added, "I just caught a cold. Didn't want to pass it to you, so I stayed away." "You're sick? Did you catch a chill? Are you okay?" Before she could answer, he was already typing on his phone. "The weather's getting colder. Do you need more clothes? I'll send some over." Fast. Too fast. She barely had time to react. But honestly? Whatever. Let him send them. It wasn't like she planned on using them. Worst case, she'd leave them behind when she left—maybe his precious Helen would appreciate them. So she didn't argue. "I'm fine. Just take care of yourself. You're still recovering—you should be in the hospital." The words sounded right, but there was nothing behind them. No warmth, no concern. Just a polite dismissal. Mateo hesitated. Something felt off, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe he was imagining things. He stood, ready to go—then paused. She was still lying there, making no move to follow. His jaw tightened. "If you're not coming with me, then I'm not going." They locked eyes. A beat of silence. Then Yara sighed, resigned. Fine. She got up, changed, and went with him. *** At the hospital, Mateo suddenly remembered Yara mentioning her cold. Immediately, he called a doctor over. Once they confirmed it was nothing serious—just rest needed—he finally relaxed. Since he was still recovering, he stayed a few more days. And during that time? He stuck to Yara like glue. Wherever she went, he followed. Even when she went to the restroom, he'd wait right outside. The nurses caught on quick. Anytime they saw one of them, they'd glance around—yep, the other was always nearby. Everywhere they went, Yara kept hearing the same comments. "Mr. Lopez and Ms. Medici are so in love! If only I could find a boyfriend like that." "Right? Ugh, must be nice. But let's be real, we should just go to bed—at least we can dream about it." Yara heard it all. Didn't react. Love? Affection? Please. This wasn't devotion—it was surveillance. Mateo wasn't clinging to her because he loved her. He was watching her. She'd been different lately, and with the wedding coming up, he probably thought she was about to cause a scene. Because in his mind, if she didn't go through with it, she'd just run back to Steven. And if that happened... how would his precious Helen ever get her happy ending? *** A few days later, Mateo was finally discharged. The second they got in the car, his phone rang. A friend. "Mateo! There's gonna be a meteor shower tonight. You should bring your fiancée and come hang out!" Meteor showers weren't common, and since the invite included Yara, Mateo agreed without hesitation. Yara didn't want to go. But to avoid suspicion, she played along. When they arrived, she realized fast—it wasn't just Mateo's friends. Helen was there too. The second Mateo saw her, Yara felt his excitement. Just a flicker, gone in a heartbeat. But she caught it. He masked it quickly, pretending not to care. Night fell, stars dotting the sky. Then—whoosh. A streak of light flashed across the horizon. More followed, one after another, meteors raining down in a breathtaking cascade. Gasps rippled through the crowd. Couples squeezed their hands together, friends nudged each other excitedly, and almost on cue, people shut their eyes to make wishes. A street vendor wove through the crowd, calling out, "Wanna check out these wishing bottles? Write your wish on a slip of paper, and I'll hang it on the tree for you! Wishing under a meteor shower makes it extra lucky!" Chapter 7 Yara knew it was all nonsense, but when she caught Helen eyeing the wishing bottles like they were priceless treasures, she wasn't shocked when the group started buying them one by one. Then came Mateo. He didn't just buy one—he bought all of them. His friends immediately jumped in. "Mateo, you really think you can fill out that many wishes? Mind sharing a few?" "Seriously, man, you already have everything. What more do you need to wish for? Greedy much?" Mateo just smirked, then turned to Yara, eyes soft. "I don't need anything. I just want Yara to have everything." That one line sent the whole group into chaos. "Mateo! No wonder you're the biggest simp in our crew!" If it were anyone else, they might've turned red. Maybe laughed it off. Yara? She just stared at the cart full of bottles, silent. She focused on writing her own wish, tuning out the noise around her. Mateo, nosy as ever, leaned in to peek. She caught him and yanked the paper away. "It won't come true if you see it." He chuckled, backing off. Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he reached out and ruffled her hair. "Whatever you wished for, it's gonna come true." Yara gave him a faint smile, saying nothing. Inside, though? She agreed completely. Before sealing the bottle, she glanced at her wish one last time. [May Yara and Mateo never cross paths again in this lifetime.] *** By the time Mateo finished filling out all his wishing bottles, the meteor shower was nearly over. They were just about to leave when a sharp cry cut through the air. Everyone turned just in time to see Helen on the ground, eyes red, looking heartbreakingly fragile. "I think I twisted my ankle... It hurts so much..." Instantly, the group swarmed around her. Mateo barely hesitated. He shoved past everyone and scooped her up without a second thought. Didn't even blink. Just carried her down the mountain. Yara didn't say a word. While the others hovered around Helen, fussing over her like she was made of glass, Yara quietly turned back. Found the vendor. Slipped him more money. "Take down all the wishing bottles we just hung up." A few minutes later, she was back at the mountaintop. Alone. She sat down, fingers steady as she began opening the bottles. One by one. [May Helen always be happy and carefree, year after year.] [May Helen's life be full of joy and free from sorrow.] [May Helen always be healthy, with only good people in her life.] [To my beloved Helen, may you always have peace and happiness.] ... All of them. Ninety-nine wishing bottles. Ninety-nine slips of paper. And every single one carried her name. Not even one was about Yara. Her eyes burned. In the end, she left the bottles scattered on the ground and walked down the mountain. *** The moment Yara reached the bottom, she spotted Mateo pacing. As soon as he saw her, he rushed over, pulling her into a tight embrace. His voice shook with relief. "Where did you go? I didn't see you when I got down, and I—oh, Yara, don't ever leave my sight again!" His friends crowded around, laughing, trying to lighten the mood. "Dude, we told you—there's only one way down. She obviously wasn't lost. You were just panicking for nothing." "Yara, you have no idea. Mateo almost cried when he couldn't find you!" They thought they were proving something. Showing her how much Mateo cared. But Yara barely heard them. Because past the crowd, she locked eyes with Helen. Her ankle was already wrapped up, her expression calm. Collected. But when Mateo's friends spoke, a smug glint flickered in her eyes. That tiny, knowing smile—it was a taunt. Like she was saying, 'See? They all think he loves you. But you and I both know the truth. 'The person he really cares about... is me.' A wave of humiliation hit Yara, sharp and suffocating. She clenched her fists but forced herself to stay composed. 'It's fine. 'It's all ending soon anyway.' Chapter 8 Helen's birthday rolled around soon after. Benjamin and Milada went all out, renting an entire cruise ship for the occasion. They invited Mateo and Yara too—completely forgetting it was Yara's birthday as well. She was used to it. When the invitation arrived, Mateo hesitated. "That day is your birthday too. Maybe we shouldn't go." He wanted to go. She could see it all over his face. This was just for show. Yara made the choice for him. "It'd be rude not to. Let's go." Mateo barely hid his excitement, pulling her close like he actually felt bad. "I can't spend your birthday with just the two of us this year... but I'll make it up to you next year." Yara laughed softly. Next year? There wouldn't be a next year. In a few days, she'd be gone for good. *** Helen stood at the center of it all, draped in designer couture, soaking up the endless praise. She was the star of the night—undisputed, untouchable. Even Steven had flown back to Novastra for this, looking every bit the polished gentleman in his sharp suit. Side by side, they could've been straight off a magazine cover. When it was time for gifts, the guests lined up, anticipation buzzing in the air. Benjamin, Milada, and Steven's presents were the ones everyone waited for. And they delivered. Exquisite jewelry. A luxury sports car. The kind of gifts that made people gasp. Then it was Mateo's turn. No wrapped box. Just a single certificate. Whispers rippled through the crowd as he flipped it open. Under the lights, a breathtaking image of a rose-colored nebula gleamed. "Helen, you already have everything. I wanted to give you something different. From today on, this star cluster is yours to name." Gasps rippled through the crowd, followed by a wave of murmurs. "You can buy the rights to name a nebula? Mateo must've gone through a lot for this." "I mean... let's be real. He's obsessed with Yara. Guess that love extends to her little sister too." Admiration. Envy. It never ended. But Yara knew the truth. This wasn't some grand gesture of love by association. Mateo had put so much thought into this gift because Helen was the only one he truly loved. The room suddenly felt suffocating. She needed air. Slipping away from the celebration, she stepped onto the deck. The ocean breeze caught her hair, and for the first time in a long while, she could finally breathe. That's when Helen appeared. She stood behind Yara, eyes glinting with condescension, her voice oozing smugness. "Yara, what are you gonna do? Not just Steven—looks like Mateo's in love with me too." Yara didn't answer. She didn't get it. Helen had already taken everything. Their parents' love. Her friends. The man she once adored. Even her fiancé. So why? Why couldn't she just leave her alone? The question slipped out before she could stop it. Helen didn't even pretend to deny it. She just smirked. "No reason, really. I just like watching you suffer. And lucky me—I get to see it happen again real soon." Yara frowned, ready to demand what she meant— But before she could react, Helen grabbed her wrist and yanked. A second later, they both plunged into the sea. The icy water swallowed Yara whole. Cold. So cold. She tried to scream, but saltwater rushed in, searing her lungs like fire. Her limbs flailed, desperate to grab onto anything. Above the waves, voices shouted. People had finally noticed. Then—splash. And another. And another. Three people had jumped in. Benjamin. Steven. Mateo. But not a single one swam toward her. Every single one of them—every single one—raced toward Helen. Even over the crashing waves, she could hear Milada's panicked screams from the yacht. "Save Helen! You have to save Helen!" Something inside Yara shattered. She closed her eyes, letting the weight of the ocean pull her under. Maybe this was how it was supposed to end. But just as she was ready to let go, the sound of someone swimming closer cut through the haze. Closer. And closer. Her eyes fluttered open. She barely made out the face in front of her, but when she did— She froze. Steven. Chapter 9 Before Yara could process why Steven—of all people—was the one saving her, the darkness swallowed her whole. *** When she woke up, she was in a hospital bed. Her dry eyes blinked against the harsh white ceiling. Slowly, she turned her head— And saw Steven sitting beside her. She stared at him, half-convinced he wasn't real. Out of everyone, why was he the only one here? Pushing down her surprise, she spoke calmly. "Shouldn't you be with Helen?" "I just came from there. She's surrounded by people. Mateo's there too." Steven waited for some kind of reaction. Anger, frustration—something. But Yara barely blinked. Her response was simple. "Then you should go too. I like my peace and quiet." She expected him to leave. He didn't. Instead, he just looked at her, something unreadable in his expression. Finally, after a long pause, he spoke. "Don't marry Mateo." His voice was low, firm. And once he started, he couldn't stop. "He doesn't love you. He never did. He only got close to you so Helen could have a clear path." Steven felt lighter, like he'd finally exhaled a secret that had been suffocating him. But when he looked at Yara, expecting shock or hurt— He saw nothing. No surprise. No sadness. Just quiet indifference. Almost like... she had already known. His breath caught. "Y-You knew?" "You can leave now," she said, ignoring the question completely. But Steven didn't move. Frustration flared, spilling over. "You knew and you're still going through with the wedding?! Are you insane?" Yara laughed. "Why do you care? Didn't I already break off our engagement and hand you back to your precious Helen?" That shut him up. Because the truth was, he didn't know why he cared. He should be happy. He had Helen. But lately, when he looked at Helen, all he could think about was Yara. Even his dreams were filled with her. The air grew thick with silence— Until the door suddenly swung open. Mateo. His expression darkened the moment he saw Steven. "What are you doing here?" Steven held Yara's gaze a beat longer before turning and walking out. The second he was gone, Mateo pulled Yara into a tight hug, his voice desperate. "Yara, I'm sorry. I swear I wasn't trying to leave you behind. I just—I got confused, I thought—" He swallowed hard. "I thought I was saving you. "Please don't be mad at me. I won't care about Helen anymore, okay? Just... don't go near Steven. Please. I need you to stay with me. "You finally stopped loving him. You finally chose me. If you go back to him now... I'll lose my mind." Mateo kept rambling, trying to fix things. But Yara had already tuned him out. Only one thought remained. 'Let this all end.' *** In the days before the wedding, Mateo went all in on proving his loyalty. No more visits to Helen. Didn't even ask about her. Instead, he stuck to Yara like glue—gifts, attention, whatever it took to make her smile. And it worked. Until the night before the wedding. For some reason, Yara started packing. Mateo noticed, didn't think much of it. Heck, he even helped. Until he saw what she was packing. Every expensive gift he'd ever given her. Every photo he'd taken of her. Every love letter he'd written. All of it. Chapter 10 Mateo found a memo. Flipping it open, he realized—it was all about Yara. [1. Yara has a sensitive stomach—no spicy food. Learn 365 recipes to keep her warm and comfortable.] [2. Yara's scared of thunderstorms but never carries an umbrella. Be there before the rain starts.] [3. Yara loves cherries. Plant an entire backyard of cherry trees for her.] [4. Yara is lonely. No matter what, always be there when she looks back.] ... Page after page, he read each note out loud. When he reached the last one, he let out a quiet chuckle. "Yara, winning your heart was so hard. Good thing I never gave up." The way he looked at her—serious, certain—caught her off guard. He really had done all this for her. If she hadn't heard him say those words herself, she might've believed it. Might've thought the Mateo standing in front of her wasn't the same man who had spent years loving someone else behind her back. But he didn't notice the shift in her expression. Instead, he pulled her into his arms. "Yara, I finally get to marry you." His voice was low, warm. "Tell me... after today, you'll be mine, right?" She shook her head. 'No. The moment you lied to me, our story ended.' The butler stepped in just then. "Sir, the bride and groom aren't supposed to see each other before the wedding. You should head to the hotel now." Mateo didn't move. Just tightened his hold on her. "I want to stay with Yara." The butler hesitated. "Sir..." Before he could say more, Mateo's phone rang. He checked the caller ID—and froze. A second later, he finally let her go, stepping aside to answer. Yara couldn't hear what was said, but when he came back, something had shifted. His grip was softer now, hesitant. "See you tomorrow, Yara." She knew he wasn't leaving because of the butler's reminder. It was because of that call. Helen had called him. But Yara didn't say a word. Just watched as he walked out the door. Then, she dragged her packed suitcases into the front yard. She'd already told the staff to set up a fire pit. They didn't ask why—just did as she said. Now, one by one, she tossed everything inside—photos, notes, journals. When the last picture curled up in the flames, she smiled. 'Mateo Lopez, all the memories are gone. And so is our future.' Under the vast night sky, no one noticed Yara walking out the gates, suitcase in hand. She never looked back.