I couldn't feel my hands.
They were trembling so badly that the paper nearly slipped from my fingers. I gripped it tighter, the glossy surface bending and creasing under my shaking thumb.
My eyes darted across the printed gold letters for what felt like the hundredth time. I read the words again, certain I'd misunderstood:
You are cordially invited to the wedding of Jules Ramirez and Bianca Cruz… at La Estrella Grand Ballroom, Makati… July 6… 4 PM…
No. This had to be some cruel mistake.
The air smelled like floor polish and cold aircon. My heartbeat pounded against my ribs so violently, I was surprised people around me couldn't hear it.
"Ma'am?"
I jerked my head up so fast my ponytail slapped me in the face.
The receptionist behind the wide, marble hotel counter was staring at me, her brows drawn together in mild irritation. She wore a tight blue uniform with gold piping and a neat name tag that read "Shirley."
"I said," she repeated slowly, "we don't have any openings for front desk staff right now. Our HR just updated the postings yesterday."
It took me a second to process what she was saying. Oh right. The reason I was here in the first place. A job.
But at that moment, getting a job was the last thing on my mind.
My voice came out shrill, echoing off the high lobby ceiling.
"Where did you get this?!" I thrust the invitation card forward until it was practically touching Shirley's nose.
Her eyes went wide. She leaned back, her stool creaking under her.
"Ma'am… I-I don't know what you're talking about."
"This card!" I almost screamed. "It was sitting right here—" I slapped the counter again for emphasis. "—on top of this desk when I walked up! Why is my fiancé's name on it?! And my best friend's?!"
I knew I was attracting attention. I could feel stares boring into my back from other hotel guests standing in line behind me. I could hear a bellboy mutter under his breath, "Drama na naman dito."
But I couldn't stop.
Shirley's eyes darted to the side as she edged her fingers toward the black telephone sitting on the counter.
"Security, please…" she whispered.
My vision blurred with furious tears. I leaned even closer, shaking the card in her face.
"Answer me, Shirley!"
A middle-aged man wearing a suit and earpiece came jogging over from the far side of the lobby. He had a radio clipped to his belt.
"Ma'am, is there a problem here?" he asked firmly, inserting himself between me and the counter.
I blinked rapidly. My cheeks were flushed hot.
I felt a wave of humiliation crash over me, realizing I'd just caused a scene in the middle of The Bayview Hotel's sleek white marble lobby.
The security man held out a placating hand. "Let's take this calmly, ma'am."
I swallowed hard. My voice dropped into a whisper.
"Never mind," I muttered, my throat raw.
Shirley still looked terrified. I took a shaky step backward. I tried to tuck my hair behind my ear, but my fingers were trembling so badly that strands of hair clung to my damp cheeks.
People were definitely staring now. A young couple in matching "Team Bride" shirts whispered to each other. A bellhop wheeled a golden trolley piled with suitcases past us, gawking at me as though I'd grown horns.
Shame flooded me.
"I'm sorry," I croaked.
I turned and nearly ran out of the lobby, pushing past a group of tourists lugging backpacks.
Outside, the sun was blazing over Makati's streets, but I felt like I was drowning in ice water. The heat and smog of Manila hit me like a wall, but I barely noticed.
My heart was racing so hard that my ears buzzed.
I ducked under the shade of a large acacia tree, pressing my back against the hotel's decorative concrete wall.
With trembling hands, I dug through my purse until I found my phone.
I dialed Jules's number so fast, I nearly dropped the phone on the pavement.
The call rang. And rang. And rang.
"Come on…" I whispered, pressing the phone tighter to my ear.
No answer.
A robotic voice finally cut in. "The number you dialed is either unattended or out of coverage area. Please try again later."
I let out a short, bitter laugh. My voice sounded alien even to my own ears.
"This has to be some sort of prank," I said under my breath. "Right? Jules can't be marrying Bianca today. Not today. Not in my own city. Not… after four years…"
But the words on the invitation card were staring at me like a slap in the face.
La Estrella Grand Ballroom, Makati.
July 6. 4 PM.
Today.
A horn blared nearby, snapping me back to reality.
A red jeepney rumbled past, passengers hanging off the rear steps. Sweat dripped down my spine beneath my white blouse.
I stared at the card one more time.
A part of me wanted to crumple it up and throw it in the gutter.
Another part of me needed answers.
With sudden urgency, I lunged off the wall and stumbled into the street, nearly colliding with a taxi.
"Miss, ano ba?!" the driver yelled, slamming the brakes.
I slammed my palm on his hood. "La Estrella Grand Ballroom! Makati! Bilisan mo, kuya, please!"
Inside the taxi, my hands twisted around the strap of my canvas bag so tightly that my knuckles turned white.
I stared out the window as we merged into EDSA traffic, horns blaring in every direction.
The taxi driver kept shooting me worried glances in the rearview mirror.
"Miss, okay ka lang ba?" he finally asked.
I ignored him, muttering under my breath.
"He wouldn't do this. Jules wouldn't do this. We've been together for four years. Four years!"
My thoughts spiraled as the taxi crawled past malls, billboards, and glowing LED signs.
Images flashed in my mind:
• Jules laughing, his arm slung over my shoulders on the UST campus lawn.
• Jules kissing me at Intramuros during our second anniversary.
• Jules crying last December when I gave him my entire savings so he could "invest it in a business overseas."
All the money I'd saved since high school…
Two hundred thousand pesos.
Gone.
The ache in my chest grew so sharp I had to squeeze my eyes shut.
A tear slipped down my cheek despite my effort to hold it in. I wiped it away angrily.
This couldn't be happening.
This was the stuff of cheap teleseryes my Tita binged every afternoon, not my life.
Ten minutes later, the taxi finally pulled up in front of La Estrella Grand Ballroom.
I paid the driver with shaking fingers and stumbled out into the blinding Manila sun.
Even from the sidewalk, I could tell the wedding was big. There were white satin ribbons tied to potted palm trees at the entrance. A long red carpet stretched inside the lobby.
Expensive cars were parked everywhere—a BMW, a black Toyota Fortuner, a white Lexus.
I stared at the luxury vehicles and felt a stab of bitter confusion.
Jules could barely afford rent when we were living together. He always said he was "saving for the future."
How could he afford a wedding like this?
Two men in black suits were standing at the entrance, holding clipboards and checking people's names as they entered.
One of them looked me up and down.
I was painfully aware that I looked like hell: my blouse was wrinkled from sitting in a taxi, my hair was frizzy from sweat and humidity, and my black slacks were dusty at the hem.
"Miss, invitation card po?" the guard said sternly.
I swallowed hard.
"I… I need to get inside."
"Hindi puwede, Miss," the man said firmly, shaking his head. "Bawal pumasok kung wala sa listahan."
"You don't understand!" My voice rose again. "My fiancé is in there! I just want to see him—"
People nearby started glancing our way, their conversations pausing mid-sentence.
One of the guards stepped closer, arms crossed. "Miss, kung walang invitation, hindi puwede."
Panic clawed at my throat.
Without thinking, I ducked sideways and lunged past them toward the doors.
"Miss!" one of the guards shouted.
I heard footsteps pounding behind me.
But I was already inside the Grand Ballroom lobby.
The air smelled of roses and vanilla.
Everywhere I looked, there were guests in formal barong and gowns, crystal chandeliers overhead, and velvet-draped walls. A soft string quartet played in the distance.
And there, down the carpeted aisle was a raised platform.
And on that platform…
My stomach dropped to my knees.
Standing under a floral arch, facing a priest…
…was Jules Ramirez.
And beside him, wearing a white wedding gown with glittering beads and a long veil… was Bianca Cruz.
I felt my knees weaken as I staggered forward, unable to breathe.
"Jules?" My voice cracked. "Jules, what the hell is going on?!"
All around me, murmurs rose into a buzz of shock.
Bianca gasped, clutching her bouquet tighter. Jules went pale, then immediately shoved Bianca slightly behind him as if shielding her from me.
"Security!" Jules roared. "What the hell are you doing? Get her out of here!"
Suddenly, heavy hands grabbed me from behind.
"Wait! Jules! Bianca!" I screamed as they dragged me backward. "How could you do this to me? After everything I gave you?!"