There was a split second of silence before i heard Calix’s voice again.
“Are you okay?”
I didn’t answer.
I didn’t even turn around.
I just walked past him, diretso sa may bench kung saan nakalagay ang tumbler ko.
I grabbed it with shaking hands.
I didn’t even notice na nanginginig na pala ako, not from the cold, but from the heat crawling under my skin—rage. Pure, seething rage.
Not because of my dad.
Not really.
It was the pressure.
The weight of being a daughter born not out of love, but of legacy. Gusto ko lang sumigaw.
Gusto kong basagin lahat ng nasa paligid. But all i did was drink water, wipe my sweat, and tie my hair tighter like I wasn’t breaking inside.
“Your dad—”
“Don’t,” I snapped, finally facing him.
Calix’s mouth shut instantly, like he could feel the blade in my voice.
He stepped back, but he didn’t leave.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like i’m someone you should feel sorry for.”
His jaw tightened. “I don’t feel sorry for you.”
“Good.”
Silence.
Tense. Heavy. Charged.
He moved closer, slower this time, as if approaching a wild animal na pwedeng umatake any second.
“You didn’t even flinch when he told you to win.”
“Why would i?” I said flatly. “I’ve been trained to obey since i was five.”
Calix looked away for a second, then back at me. “That’s not normal, Aurora.”
I turned my back to him. “Normal is irrelevant in this world.”
Then, without warning, I picked up the reins again.
The horse was already exhausted, but so was i. Hindi ko alam kung sino sa amin ang mas nauubos.
“I’m training.”
“Aurora—”
“Leave if you’re not riding.”
He didn’t. Of course he didn’t.
I mounted again.
This time, my body felt heavier.
Like my limbs were made of steel and regret.
The arena stretched wide before me like a battlefield, and i was both soldier and weapon.
Walang ibang pwedeng sumalo ng galit ko. Walang ibang pwedeng tumanggap ng sakit kundi ang katawan ko.
I took the course.
Again.
And again.
And again.
My thighs burned, arms aching. My back screamed in protest. I heard Calix yell something—maybe calling my name—but i blocked it out.
Everything blurred until all i saw was white noise and pressure points.
And then, finally, my foot missed the stirrup.
The horse bucked slightly from the uneven weight, and i lost my balance.
I fell—hard.
The arena kissed my shoulder with the kind of pain that made my vision black out for a second.
“Fuck,” I hissed through gritted teeth.
Calix was there in seconds. “Aurora!”
“Don’t touch me,” I gasped, crawling up on my own.
“Stop being stubborn,” he barked.
I glared at him. “Stop acting like you care.”
“I do care!”
That made me freeze.
He said it too fast.
Too loud.
Like even he didn’t expect it.
I turned slowly. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Maybe because i’ve seen you fight alone for too long. Maybe because i remember how you used to be before all this shit turned you into... this.”
“This?” I echoed.
“You’re fire, Aurora. But sometimes, I think you’re just trying to burn everything down—including yourself.”
I laughed. It was bitter. Sharp.
“Thanks for the therapy session, Dr. Calix.”
“Aurora—”
“Leave.”
He stared at me.
Eyes stormy.
Frustrated.
Desperate to reach something i buried long ago.
“I’ll be outside,” he muttered eventually, then walked away.
Good.
I didn’t need him here.
I didn’t need anyone.
But why did it feel so loud when he left?
-
By the time i walked out of the stables, my legs felt like jelly.
My bruised shoulder throbbed beneath my jacket.
The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving everything dipped in gold and shadows.
I expected Calix to be gone.
But he was there leaning against his car, arms crossed, eyes closed.
“Akala ko umalis ka na,” I said blandly.
His eyes opened. “You told me not to come near the arena. You didn’t say i should go home.”
I scoffed. “Technicality.”
He opened the passenger door. “Get in. You look like you’re about to collapse.”
I hated that he was right.
But i got in anyway.
“I’m fine,” I said as he tried to help me out of the car.
“You fell off a horse.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“Still.”
We entered a quiet place nearby—an old place we used to go to back in college.
They still served warm soup in clay bowls and bread that smelled like heaven.
The smell hit me like a memory i didn’t want.
We sat.
I didn’t say anything.
Neither did he.
The waitress arrived, and Calix ordered for both of us like it was instinct. Soup. Pasta. Lemon water.
When the food came, I didn’t touch it.
“Aurora,” he said gently.
“Don’t.”
“Eat.”
I looked at him, my voice razor-sharp. “Stop acting like you’re a real husband.”
He didn’t blink. “Then stop acting like you never loved me.”
I froze.
That wasn’t fair.
That wasn’t part of the deal.
He leaned in. “You think i don’t know? I saw it, Aurora. I felt it. You just buried it so deep you forgot how it used to save you.”
My throat tightened.
I reached for the water just to avoid looking at him.
“You’re exhausted,” he said quietly. “You’re angry. And scared.”
I looked at him. “You don’t know anything about me anymore.”
“Maybe. But i’m here, aren’t i?”
I wanted to scream.
Or cry.
Or walk out.
But instead, I picked up my spoon and started eating.
Because right now, that was the only form of control i had left.
We arrived at my condo in silence.
He walked me to the door.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
He just looked at me.
“I’m serious,” I added.
He smiled faintly. “For what it’s worth... I think you’ll win.”
I looked away. “I’m not doing it for them.”
“I know.”
“I’m doing it because i have to prove that i’m more than what they made me.”
And with that, I stepped inside and shut the door behind me.
But i leaned on it for a while.
Because for the first time in a long time...
I didn’t feel completely alone.