FOUR YEARS LATER — FULL CIRCLE
MANILA — WHERE IT ALL BEGAN
The Philippines always smelled the same.
Salt in the air. Warm after rain. Coffee drifting from cafés that never slept. Noise layered with laughter, traffic, life.
Home.
JAY'S POV
Four years.
Four years since tear-soaked airport floors and promises whispered under engines roaring to life.
Four years since I left as a girl chasing dreams.
Now I was back.
And I wasn't that girl anymore.
The private jet touched down smoothly on the runway, Manila's skyline glowing under the afternoon sun. I watched it through the window, heart steady, composed.
No shaking hands. No fear. Just purpose.
"Welcome home, CEO Mariano," Zack said beside me, closing his tablet.
I smiled faintly.
"Feels strange," I admitted.
"You came back different," he replied. "Sharper."
I stood, smoothing my tailored blazer. Black. Clean lines. Authority stitched into every seam.
At twenty-three, I was:
• A top corporate attorney
• CEO of C&J Global
• The youngest legal strategist to close three international mergers before twenty-five
And today—
I was returning to reclaim ground.
The doors opened.
Heat rushed in. Cameras flashed. Executives waited.
I stepped onto Philippine soil like it belonged to me.
Because it did.
---
KEIFER'S POV
The moment the wheels hit the runway, I knew.
I was home.
Four years had carved me into someone unrecognizable from the boy who once stood frozen in an airport watching the love of his life walk away.
Now?
I didn't freeze.
I commanded rooms.
Watson Global stood at the same level as C&J now—sometimes above, sometimes below. Rivals on paper. Equals in power.
People whispered our names together in business columns.
Mariano vs Watson. Brains vs Brutality. Law vs Strategy.
They had no idea.
Honey adjusted her glasses beside me.
"Philippines market expansion meeting tonight. C&J confirmed attendance."
My jaw tightened.
"So she's here," I said quietly.
"Yes," Honey replied. "Jay landed an hour ago."
Four years.
No calls. No texts. No soft goodnights.
Just growth. Distance. Unfinished things.
I straightened my cufflinks.
"Good," I said.
---
THE GALA — POWER MEETS MEMORY
The ballroom buzzed with Manila's elite.
Crystal chandeliers. Muted gold tones. Names that controlled industries.
I felt her before I saw her.
That presence.
I turned—
And there she was.
My Queen.
My Jay .
Hair shorter. Eyes sharper. Smile restrained but devastating. Dressed in midnight blue, confidence rolling off her like gravity.
She looked—
Untouchable.
Our eyes locked.
The room fell away.
Four years collapsed into a single breath.
She didn't smile.
Neither did I.
Professional.
Controlled.
Deadly calm.
"CEO Mariano," someone said beside her. "Allow me to introduce—"
"We've met," she interrupted, never breaking eye contact with me.
Her voice.
God.
"CEO Watson," she said smoothly. "Congratulations on your Southeast Asia acquisition."
"Congratulations on dismantling three monopolies," I replied. "Impressive."
A pause.
Electric.
People around us sensed it—the tension sharp enough to cut glass.
"May we?" she asked, gesturing toward a quieter corner.
I nodded.
We walked side by side.
Not touching.
Not yet.
---
THE CONVERSATION — TRUTH WITHOUT SOFT EDGES
"You came back," she said quietly.
"So did you."
"I didn't know if you would."
"I always said I would," I replied.
She exhaled. "You kept your word."
"So did you," I said. "You became everything you said you would."
She met my gaze. "You did too."
Silence.
Not awkward. Heavy.
Four years of things unsaid pressing between us.
"You still wear it," I said suddenly.
Her fingers brushed the ring on a chain beneath her collar.
"So do you," she replied, nodding to my wrist.
Matching bands. Never removed.
The world softened.
Just a little.
---
THE ROOFTOP — WHERE EVERYTHING CATCHES UP
Later that night.
City lights below. Manila alive beneath us.
No cameras. No board members. Just us.
"I hated you," she admitted softly.
"I deserved it."
"I missed you," she said.
"I missed you more than I let myself breathe."
She laughed quietly, eyes shining. "We were stupid."
"We were young."
"We were brave."
I stepped closer.
"So what are we now?" she asked.
I took her hand.
Her fingers fit perfectly.
"Home," I said.
She inhaled sharply.
I dropped to one knee.
Gasps echoed from behind us—friends, family, the ones who stayed quiet out of respect.
"Jasper Jean Mariano," I said, voice steady, heart racing like it did four years ago.
"We grew apart. We grew up. We grew powerful."
I opened the box.
The ring caught the city light.
"But I never grew away from you."
Her hands flew to her mouth.
"Come home with me," I said.
"Not as my past.
Not as my rival."
Her tears fell freely now.
"As my future."
"Yes," she whispered.
"Yes.
Yes.
Yes."
Cheers erupted. Someone cried. Someone laughed.
She pulled me up and kissed me—soft, deep, real.
The kind of kiss that didn't need urgency.
Because this time—
We weren't leaving.
---
The next morning.
Manila sunlight poured through the windows.
Jay lay beside me, peaceful.
No distance. No screens. No airports.
Just home.
Four years apart had shaped us.
But love?
Love brought us back exactly where we belonged.
Together...