I didn't know how long I stood there on the sidewalk, staring blankly at the black business card clenched in my fist.
Cars and jeepneys kept roaring past along Makati Avenue. Vendors were shouting about buko juice (coconut juice) and taho (soft tofu snack), but the sounds all blurred into a distant buzz.
People kept glancing at me like I was some crazy person.
Maybe I was.
Because after everything that had just happened, the only thought in my mind was:
I have nowhere to go.
I finally stuffed Lance Villanueva's card into the side pocket of my bag and turned toward the street.
My feet felt like lead as I started walking, with no real plan.
I ended up back on the sidewalk in front of the Bayview Hotel where my nightmare had started a few hours earlier.
For a long moment, I stood there, hugging myself as jeepneys rumbled by, belching smoke.
My throat tightened.
All I could think was:
This morning I woke up thinking I'd apply for a front desk job. Now… my entire life is gone.
I felt exhaustion pulling me under like an ocean current.
Eventually, I hailed a jeepney heading toward Quezon City. I climbed in and squeezed between two elderly ladies chatting about the latest teleserye scandal.
One of them gave me a suspicious look when she saw my puffy eyes and wrinkled blouse.
"Anak, okay ka lang ba?" she asked gently. ("Child, are you okay?")
I tried to smile but my lips felt numb.
"O-okay lang po," I croaked. ("I'm fine.")
She clucked her tongue in sympathy and turned back to her friend.
The closer we got to my neighborhood in Quezon City, the more panic clawed at my insides.
Because despite everything… I was still clinging to a tiny shred of hope.
Maybe Jules and Bianca had somehow come to their senses. Maybe they'd gone back to my apartment to explain everything.
I held onto that fantasy all the way to my stop.
When the jeepney dropped me off, I climbed down carefully, clutching my bag.
Rain clouds were gathering overhead. The wind smelled like the scent of wet pavement, dust, and distant frying oil from street vendors.
I wiped my sweaty palms on my slacks and hurried the rest of the way down the narrow street.
My apartment building was a four-story concrete structure painted a faded peach color, streaked with black mold in places. Laundry hung dripping from metal railings.
Everything looked so normal. So painfully normal.
I reached my door and froze.
Because I could hear laughter coming from inside.
My stomach lurched.
For a moment, I just stood there, my key halfway to the lock.
Then rage surged through me like a lightning bolt.
I jammed the key into the lock, turned it, and shoved the door open so hard it banged against the wall.
Inside, I saw them.
Jules Ramirez and Bianca Cruz.
Still in their wedding outfits.
Jules was in his cream barong tagalog, looking rumpled but strangely smug. Bianca was wearing her white wedding gown, the hem slightly dirtied and crumpled, her veil pushed back off her hair.
They were standing at my tiny dining table, eating fried chicken out of a plastic bag. A bottle of Coke sat half-empty beside them.
Jules turned around at the sound of the door slamming open.
Bianca's eyes widened. She nearly choked on a piece of chicken.
I felt my blood turn to ice.
"What. The. Hell," I said in a low, shaking voice, "are you two doing here?!"
Jules's expression immediately shifted from surprise to irritation.
He wiped his fingers on a paper napkin and stepped toward me.
"Maya, calm down."
"CALM DOWN?!" I exploded, flinging my bag onto the floor. "You married my best friend today! And now you're in my apartment eating fucking fried chicken like nothing happened?!"
Bianca flinched as if I'd slapped her.
"Maya—listen—" she began.
"Don't even try talking to me!" I screamed, pointing a trembling finger at her. "I don't want to hear your voice, Bianca! I trusted you with my life!"
Jules raised his voice over mine.
"Stop shouting. You're embarrassing yourself."
"EMBARRASSING MYSELF?!" My voice cracked. "This is MY apartment! I pay the rent! You."
"But it's under my name," Jules cut in sharply.
My mouth opened and closed like a fish.
I felt like I'd been punched in the gut.
Jules let out a long sigh and raked a hand through his hair.
"Look. There's no point pretending anymore," he said flatly. "Bianca is pregnant. She's going to be living with me from now on."
My vision went black for a second.
Pregnant.
The word echoed in my skull like a gunshot.
Bianca looked away, wiping her eyes.
Jules reached behind him and grabbed a small duffel bag. He tossed it at my feet.
"I already packed your stuff," he said coldly. "You have to leave. This apartment is too small for all of us."
Something inside me snapped.
I lunged forward, grabbing Jules by the front of his barong.
"You bastard!" I screamed in his face. "How could you do this to me?! After everything?! I GAVE YOU MY MONEY!"
Jules tried to pry my fingers off his shirt. His face twisted into an ugly scowl.
"I don't owe you anything!" he shouted back.
"Two hundred thousand pesos, Jules!" I shrieked. "That was my entire savings! You said you were investing it! YOU SAID—"
"I'm not discussing this with you," he barked. "You're crazy!"
He shoved me backward so hard that I stumbled and slammed into the dining chair. Pain shot up my spine.
Bianca let out a tiny sob.
"Maya, please, just go," she whispered.
"Shut up!" I screamed, pointing at her. "You're dead to me, Bianca! You hear me? Dead!"
Jules's eyes flashed with fury.
He grabbed my arm in a bruising grip and started dragging me toward the door.
I fought him every step of the way, kicking and thrashing.
"Let go of me!" I shouted. "I'm calling the police! I'll get you both arrested! You think you can steal my money and get away with it?!"
But Jules was stronger.
He wrenched the door open and practically hurled me out into the hallway.
My back hit the corridor wall so hard that the framed "Fire Exit" sign rattled above my head.
Jules threw my duffel bag after me, the zipper bursting open and spilling my clothes onto the grimy tiles.
Then he slammed the door shut in my face.
For a moment, I just stood there, panting, staring at the closed door.
Then I exploded.
I pounded my fists against the wood, screaming at the top of my lungs.
"You're going to pay for this, Jules! You're both going to rot in jail! You hear me?!"
My voice echoed down the hallway.
A neighbor peeked out from behind a door, eyes wide.
"Miss, okay ka lang ba?" he asked timidly. ("Miss, are you okay?")
"Fuck off!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face.
The neighbor quickly disappeared back inside his unit and slammed the door.
Eventually, my fists dropped to my sides, limp.
My throat felt raw and bloody.
I slid down the wall and sank onto the floor, burying my face in my trembling hands.
Sobs tore out of me until I could barely breathe.
This can't be happening. This can't be happening.
I sat there for what felt like hours.
Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled.
A few stray raindrops started to fall through the open hallway windows, splattering onto the tiles beside me.
I lifted my head slowly, wiping my eyes with shaking fingers.
Memories flooded my brain:
• My parents dying in a car crash when I was nine.
• Growing up in an orphanage with my younger sister, Ana.
• Working three part-time jobs to save money for college.
• Jules telling me he loved me.
• Jules promising me a future.
And now… this.
I hugged my knees to my chest.
Ana warned me about Jules.
She'd always said he was a snake.
We'd barely spoken in over a year because I'd been so angry at her for not trusting Jules.
How could I face her now?
Where was I supposed to go?
The hallway felt cold and endless.
I stared at the duffel bag lying open on the floor, my underwear and a few old t-shirts spilling out.
A bitter laugh bubbled in my throat.
This is my life now.
Suddenly, my mind flashed to the black business card hidden in my bag.
Lance Villanueva's name seemed to glow like neon in my memory.
Call me if you'd like to change your life.
I sniffed hard, wiping my nose on my sleeve.
Was I seriously considering calling a total stranger?
But… what other choice did I have?
My entire savings was gone. I had nowhere to sleep. No job. No family who'd take me in without saying I told you so.
Maybe Lance was another scammer. Maybe this was another nightmare waiting to happen.
But right now, he felt like my only chance.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and stared at it.
My thumb hovered over the screen.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
"Fuck it," I whispered.
And I dialed the number printed on the card.