"Why are you trembling, Sha?" Denver's intense gaze fixated on my trembling form, his eyes a mix of concern and uncertainty. I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze directly, but his voice conveyed genuine worry.
"I'm scared," I confessed, my voice barely audible, my words laced with fear.
"Why? Are you afraid of me?" Denver's voice quivered with fear as he instinctively moved away. His trembling hands reached out to hold mine, mirroring the tremors that consumed me. "Tell me... Please."
"I... I need some time alone, Denver," I murmured, mustering the courage to meet his gaze directly. I didn't want him to witness my vulnerability once again, not when I was on the verge of tears.
"Why?" His voice cracked with confusion and concern.
Emotions surged within me as his words reached my ears. "Do you want me to call your sister?" he inquired, his vulnerability shining through. "I want to stay by your side, my wife... But if you ask me to leave, will you be alright here alone?"
"She must be devastated right now because of what happened. That tragedy..." My voice trailed off, tears welling up in my eyes, betraying the turmoil raging within me. I was mumbling, barely able to grasp Denver's words. My thoughts were consumed by worry for my sister, wondering how she was coping.
A midst my emotional breakdown, Denver's arms enveloped me, refusing to let me slip away from his sight. His embrace was tight, and I could feel the tremors coursing through his body. It was as if my emotions were reflected in him, our connection unbreakable. Every gesture I made and every tear I shed had a powerful impact on him.
"Why don't you trust me with your burdens, Sha?" Denver implored, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and determination. His shivering was unexplained, as if he, too, was weathering an internal storm. "Let me be your partner in this battle, Sha. As your husband, I can shoulder your sorrows alongside you. Share your pain with me."
We remained locked in that embrace, oblivious to what lay ahead. Tears streamed down my face in silent surrender as I sought solace in the loving arms of my husband. It was a moment of warmth, comfort, and serenity, an embrace I never wanted to release.
How I longed to stay with him, to bask in his presence and cherish our time together. Yet, I couldn't allow myself to be selfish, knowing my sister bore the weight of her suffering alone. She concealed the depths of her sorrow beneath an alluring smile and a facade of happiness. But on this day, her birthday, the memories of the tragedy weighed heavy upon her.
Sleep was far from my intentions, as I yearned to plan a way to reach out to my sister, to know how she coped in this times. But my weary body betrayed me, succumbing to exhaustion. All I remember is falling into a peaceful slumber, my tears staining my husband's shoulders and his arms enfolding me.
“Call her and let her talk to my wife, she needs some company right now.”
From my side, I heard Denver's voice engaged in conversation. I gently rubbed my eyes, my gaze lifting to find him beside me. I was lying against his arm, my face angled toward his armpit. As my eyes traveled upward, I found myself met with the sight of him half-naked, his muscular arm cradling the phone to his ear, his reflexive movements showcasing his sculpted physique.
A gulp caught in my throat as my gaze traced his chiseled form, each muscle flexing in harmony with his every breath. His skin glistened with a radiant glow, basking in the soft illumination of the room. It dawned on me that we were still within the confines of his bedroom. I looked away, exhaling deeply, attempting to banish the impure thoughts that stirred within me, only to realize his eyes were already fixated upon me.
"Done checking me out?" he quipped, a mischievous smirk gracing his lips, causing my eyes to roll in an attempt to divert my burning cheeks. I began to move away, ready to rise from the bed, when he caught hold of my waist, pulling me closer. "Did you just roll your eyes at me, wife?"
I bit my lip, the realization dawning upon me that such a gesture was a trademark of Liene. She often make that very same behavior.
"Let go, Denver," I asserted firmly, though my voice emerged softer than intended, laced with a subtle bedroom tone. "Hubby..."
In my embarrassment, I quickly covered my lips, realizing I had inadvertently uttered an endearing term. His breath danced upon the nape of my neck, followed by a trail of delicate kisses, before he released me and moved away.
"Don't tempt me, young lady," he huskily uttered, his words tinged with desire, as he rose from the bed. "We have important visitors today."
"Who?" I inquired, curiosity piqued.
"You'll see," he replied with a smirk, approaching me and extending his hand to assist me in standing. "I am sure you've missed them."
I nodded, accepting his proffered hand. Before we proceeded, Denver planted a gentle kiss on my cheek, his proud smile illuminating his face.
"You're always stealing kisses, Denver," I said.
“I am kiss stealer, then.” He chuckled. “But we'll have a talk about those eyes rolling on me," he playfully remarked, causing my eyebrows to furrow. "Seems like my softie Sharmienne is no longer soft, huh?"
"It's still me, Denver. I haven't changed," I assured him, though his nonchalant shrug made me wonder.
Hand in hand, we strolled along the hallway, his voice filling the air with animated conversation. Lost in my thoughts, my eyes widened slightly as I caught sight of familiar faces gathered in the lawn room. I glimpsed my father's back, engaged in conversation with Mr. Galvosa, my mother by his side, and just beyond them, Kian, whose gaze had already found its way to me.
"Dad, mom... Kian," I whispered, my voice trembling with unexpected emotions upon seeing them.
Before I could make a dash towards them, Denver's firm grip halted me in my tracks. His hold tightened, and I turned to face him. Furrowed brows adorned his face as his gaze fixated on Kian's direction. Irritation etched his features, leaving me puzzled.
"Denver..." I began, my voice filled with concern.
He sighed deeply, his frustration palpable. "We'll go down together, wife. I don't want you rushing downstairs. You've only just regained your energy."
I nodded, understanding his worry, yet unable to fathom the cause of his sudden irritation.
All eyes turned towards our arrival, their gazes fixated upon us. My father's face lit up with a mix of concern and longing, his eyes never wavering from my direction. As I drew nearer, he enveloped me in a tight embrace, planting a tender kiss on my forehead and gently stroking my hair, just as he always had.
"Are you okay, my little one?" he asked with gentleness, his voice filled with paternal love. "Your hair has grown longer. You used to prefer it short... It suits you, my daughter."
Tears welled up in my eyes, emotions swirling within me, impossible to articulate. "I missed you, Dad," I managed to utter, my voice choked with emotion.
My mother approached next, her presence bringing solace. She held me in a warm embrace, her delicate hands fixing the stray strands of my hair. With a gentle touch, she wiped away my tears, her captivating brown eyes reflecting the depth of emotion I had longed to witness.
"Where's Carmienne?" I inquired, my gaze shifting towards Kian, who responded with a shrug and a smile. I nodded in understanding, knowing exactly what that gesture meant.
"She's on her way here," Mr. Galvosa interjected, emerging from the lawn room with an air of urgency. The maids scurried to attend to his command, preparing food for our gathering. "Stay here tonight. The rain pours heavily outside."
His words carried an unusual coldness and a hint of intimidation, a departure from the usual demeanor of Mr. Galvosa that I had come to know. With those cryptic words, he departed, leaving us with an air of mystery hanging in the atmosphere.
"I'll take my leave then, Auntie, Sir," Kian announced, catching the attention of my parents.
"You shall stay, Kian," Dad declared firmly. "There are matters we need to discuss."
"Let him go, Dad," Denver interjected, his voice laced with a taunting tone. I furrowed. Since when did he call my father that way? I glanced at him, surprised by his way, addressing my father in such a familiar manner. "He's not welcome here." Denver added.
"Feeling threatened, are we?" Kian smirked, retorting with a hint of amusement. I fought the urge to facepalm at their childish argument unfolding before me.
"Enough, both of you!" Dad voice cut through the tension with stern authority. "We need to address what just occurred and how our daughter found herself in this situation, particularly within the confines of Galvosa's mansion."
The aroma of delicious food filled the room as the maid brought in the trays. We settled onto the plush sofa, finding our places. Denver took the seat beside me, and I couldn't help but pinch his arm every time he leaned in for a stolen kiss, be it on my arm, neck, or even my hand.
"Denver..." I shot him a warning look, but he only met my gaze with a mischievous smile, clearly finding amusement in my annoyance.
"I can't resist teasing you, wife," he chuckled, his voice filled with playful affection. However, my father cleared his throat, his presence a gentle reminder that our flirtatious banter was being observed.
"We're well aware that you're married, but enough with the flirting, Velasquez," my father's voice resonated in the room, stern and protective. 
Kian's laughter filled the air, his eyes fixated on Denver, a smirk playing on his lips, clearly relishing in Denver's evident annoyance. I watched as Denver clenched his jaw, the tension radiating from him.
"I apologize, sir. I just miss my wife," Denver replied, his tone laced with a hint of mischief.
My father shifted his attention to Denver, his gaze piercing. "Care to explain why you nearly violated the terms of the contract? It clearly stipulates that you must marry my daughter before any further assistance can be rendered. Is that why you rushed things?"
“Should I be the one to answer that? You have your own reasons too.” Denver's voice turned serious, an icy edge creeping in. ".We have our own objectives beyond the merger of our companies."
"Don't you dare mention 'that' in her presence," my mother warned, her voice firm. "Are you afraid we'll take her away from you?
Denver's response was immediate and resolute. "She'll stay with me. I won't let her go."
My mother countered, her words piercing. "You can't even protect her."
The room fell silent as someone entered. Dressed in a vibrant yellow dress, my sister Carmienne gracefully made her way into the room, her eyes locked on me. She embraced me tightly, and in a whispered tone, she imparted her words.
"Go with the flow, Sharmienne. Act," she urged, her voice filled with determination. "Trust me."
She held my gaze for a moment before shifting her attention to Denver, who had been watching our interaction. I noticed a flicker of unease in his eyes, a trace of pain, but he swiftly brushed it off, redirecting his focus to my parents.
"I beg you, don't take her away from me. Not this time," Denver pleaded, his voice tinged with fear, almost trembling.
My father sighed, his tone softened. "Do you really believe she would still let go of your marriage? She's already bound to you. All we wanted was to have our daughter back, if only temporarily. For now, she will be with us."
I couldn't help but be taken aback by their knowledge of my marriage with Denver. However, the idea of them making decisions for me went against my father's usual demeanor
"Dad, I am capable of making my own decisions now. You don't need to interfere in our marriage... Please," I asserted firmly..
"You won't control our lives," I continued, standing my ground.
"It's for your own well-being, Sharmienne," Carmienne chimed in, taking a seat beside me. "The contract has already been breached. The Velasquez won't be offering any further assistance. Our father has declined their help."
"Dad..." I uttered, my disappointment and fear evident in my tone. He simply shook his head and averted his gaze.
My eyes shifted to Denver, who now sat with a downcast expression. His fists were tightly clenched, silently absorbing the weight of the situation.
"Denver understands the gravity of our conversation," my father interjected, perplexed by my husband's behavior. The atmosphere grew somber. They all seemed determined to separate us. But I couldn't bear the thought.
Denver didn't want it either, but observing him now, I could sense that he knew what he was doing.
"I understand everything that has been discussed, but I want to be selfish," he declared, mustering all the courage within him.
"Tomorrow morning, we will leave with our daughter," my father announced, rising from his seat. 
Everyone followed suit, including Carmienne, who shared a sympathetic glance with me. Kian tapped Denver's shoulder, saying something I couldn't discern. They all departed, leaving me alone with my husband.
"I'm sorry if I can't protect you now, wife," Denver confessed, his voice laden with remorse. "It's true that I almost breached the contract." I could feel the depth of his regret. His mood had drastically shifted from earlier, shrouded in gloom and sadness. "I'm sorry that I may have to let you go this time, even though you've taken my side and defied your father."
"Denver..." I murmured, a pang of pain slowly gripping my chest. It was all happening too quickly. I couldn't even grasp the reality of the situation.
"You will always be a Velasquez, my wife," he continued, still unable to meet my gaze, his eyes fixed downward. "I am not ready to let you go, Sharmienne, but I feel compelled to..."
"You don't want this, right?" I asked, my voice laced with desperation. His bloodshot eyes met mine, and he shook his head before abruptly standing up and retreating to his room.
Left behind, I was consumed by pain and confusion. Seconds later, driven by an undeniable urgency, I followed him. I couldn't let this happen. We hadn't discussed the future of our relationship, and the uncertainty was tearing me apart. I needed clarity in the midst of this overwhelming confusion.
"Denver..." I whispered, stepping into his room. He was already lying on his bed, his arm shielding his eyes from the world. "Hubby?"
"Don't come near me, Sharmienne. Just go," he pleaded, his voice heavy with anguish.
I shook my head, determined to confront the turmoil between us. "I need to talk to you, about us," I urged, taking a seat beside him. As he remained prone, I reached out and tentatively placed my hand on his chest, feeling the electric charge that pulsed through me, mirroring the unrest within his body.
"It would be toxic if we stay together, wife," he confessed, his voice tinged with resignation. "I know your plan to seek justice for your cousins. I understand your motivations, why you felt compelled to leave me so abruptly. I know everything."
"Denver..." I whispered, my heart aching for the pain he was enduring.
"And I want you to focus on yourself, Sha. Prioritize self-love rather than investing all your emotions in me," he continued, his arm retracting from his eyes as he gazed at me with a mixture of tenderness and sadness. "I have come to accept my own fate, the reality that I may not be able to reciprocate the depth of love you have for me. It takes time... And even if I were to confess my feelings now, it wouldn't make sense anymore."
"So, you're agreeing with them?" I asked, my voice strained, trembling with the weight of my emotions. His eyes locked with mine, and his lips parted slightly as he noticed the tears already streaming down my cheeks.
"Wife..." he whispered, his hand reaching out to wipe away my tears. His touch was gentle, his fingers tracing the curves of my cheeks, as I closed my eyes, seeking solace in his warmth. It would be the last time I would feel his touch.
"I'm sorry for letting go," he murmured, his words like shards of a broken bond.
With my eyes tightly shut, I surrendered myself to the weight of the moment, feeling the soft pressure of his lips against mine. It was a gentle, lingering kiss that conveyed more than words ever could. In that bittersweet embrace, our shared pain echoed between us, speaking volumes of the love we had grown to cherish.
I held onto him desperately, my fingers entangled in the strands of his hair, unwilling to let go. Each passing second became a treasured memory as we exchanged a farewell so achingly tender, it left my heart yearning for more. This was our final act of intimacy, a moment where time stood still and everything else faded away.
But deep within the core of my being, I understood the bitter truth. This kiss, though filled with longing and desire, carried the weight of goodbye. It was a farewell from the man I had grown to love, the one who had stolen countless kisses and held my heart captive in his grasp.