Chapter 45 45

Chapter 45 45
Chapter 45

I was five years old when I lost my parents in a car accident. I’ll never forget how I begged everyone at the scene to save them.

If it weren't for the safety bag that my parents placed in the backseat for me, I would’ve died too. I still don’t know whether it was good luck or bad fate that I survived—because after that, I was all alone.

I also remember how I screamed at and hit a little boy, around my age, blaming him for what happened to my parents.

That boy was the reason for the accident. My dad swerved to avoid him, and we lost control.

In the end, the case was closed. They ruled it an accident. After that, I was taken to an orphanage.

No relatives claimed me, and there was no information about my parents’ families.

It was a huge blow to my life, being completely alone. But my life in the orphanage wasn’t terrible.

The nuns were kind. They gave me my own room, and for some reason, they treated me differently from the other children.

I was grateful. One time, a nun asked me if I wanted to be adopted and have a family. I said no. They didn’t force me and removed my name from the list.

I stayed in the orphanage until I was sixteen, when I entered high school. When people found out I lived in an orphanage, most students didn’t want to be friends with me and started bullying me.

“Hey, do you have a seatmate? Can I sit with you? Teacher said she ran out of copies.”

I looked up and saw Themarie Montesor. She had been my classmate since sixth grade, but we weren’t close. She had many friends and was very pretty.

“Uh—sure. Here,” I said, moving my bag from the seat beside me. She smiled and sat down, introducing herself again.

‘Gosh, she’s talking to the orphan? Themarie is so nice.’

I ignored the whispers, and so did Themarie. After that day, she started sticking close to me.

Sometimes she treated me to food. She taught me how to take care of myself, especially how to do my makeup. She always told me I was pretty.

She also gave me her old clothes. I appreciated them, even though I didn’t really need them. Many donors sent clothes to the orphanage, and they always happened to fit me perfectly. They were all high-quality, but since we always wore uniforms, I just kept them stored.

By second year, I had learned how to take care of myself. I brushed and styled my hair, dressed neatly, and wore light makeup.

“Is that Sonia? Damn, she’s so pretty now.”

“That glow-up is real!”

At first, I was embarrassed and awkward with the attention I was getting. I looked around the second-year building for my classroom and checked the nameplates.

I found my name quickly, and thankfully, the room was on the first floor.

“Sonia!”

I turned around. Themarie was running toward me but suddenly stopped in her tracks after getting a good look.

“Oh my gosh, is that really you, Sonia?”

She rushed over, grabbed my shoulders, then touched my face.

“Did you get plastic surgery?” she asked, eyes wide. Then she laughed and said I looked much more beautiful now.

“For sure, boys are going to line up for you,” she said.

Honestly, I wasn’t interested in boys or dating. But I smiled and invited her inside the room.

“Hey, move out of the way!”

I froze. A bag flew through the air, heading straight for my face.

“Watch out!”

Someone caught it from behind me, blocking my face with his arm before the bag dropped to the floor. I turned, eyes wide, and looked around at the boys who had been throwing their bags. Then I saw who had caught it.

That was how I met Victor Valencia. He bent down slightly, and our eyes met.

My breath hitched, and my heart raced. I didn’t know if it was because I almost got hit in the face or because of the guy in front of me who looked like he’d stepped straight out of a fairytale book.

“Miss, are you okay?”

Too embarrassed to speak, I just nodded. Then I walked to the back row and sat down. I heard Themarie call after me, but I didn’t look back.

“Why’d you walk away so fast? That guy was handsome! Do you even know his name?” she asked, sitting beside me.

“If you read magazines, you’d know. He’s a model,” I replied. Yes, I knew him. I’d seen him countless times in fashion magazines.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed him still looking at me—or maybe I was just imagining it.

Still, I enjoyed my second year of high school. The bullying had stopped, and none of my old bullies were in our building or classroom. I always had lunch with Themarie.

One time during lunch, I noticed she was quiet while eating.

“What’s wrong? You look like the sky and earth just fell on you.”

She paused. I wasn’t sure if it was just in my head, but her laugh felt forced.

“I was trying to remember something I was supposed to tell you… but I forgot,” she said.

Was it our test results from last week?

Before I could say anything, someone behind us cleared their throat. I turned around, surprised.

Girls nearby squealed softly when they saw who it was.

“You’re barely eating. Do you really get full with that?”

A boy sat at our table, holding a ball and checking out our food.

“Gerald, get up. Show some manners,” Victor said, pulling his best friend up.

Gerald just laughed. “You took too long to get here.”

I looked back and forth between the two of them. What were they doing?

I cleared my throat. “Victor… do you need something?”

He paused, scratching the back of his head. Then he stood up straight.

“Well—it’s just—”

“He wanted to ask why you didn’t go to the garden. He had something to say to you,” Gerald interrupted.

Victor smacked Gerald on the back of the head and told him to shut up.

The students around us started whispering. Was Victor going to confess? But I didn’t even know he wanted to meet me in the garden!

“Shoot! That’s what I forgot!”

I turned to Themarie, who was now panicking. She held both my hands and kept apologizing.

“Victor asked me to tell you to meet him. I’m so sorry, sis—I totally forgot!”

My expression softened. “It’s okay.”

Then I looked at Victor and said firmly, “Next time, say it to my face. You have a mouth, don’t you?”

He blinked, then laughed. His ears turned red.

Suddenly, he knelt in front of me and held my hand.

“Can I take you as my date to the acquaintance party next week?”

I was shocked—not because he asked me out, but because of how sincere and sudden it was. That was the beginning of our relationship. At the party, he asked to court me in front of our whole batch.

He courted me for half a year, and just before second year ended, I said yes.

The girls in our class were jealous. I was happy, though. Even after learning I was an orphan, Victor’s view of me never changed. That’s why I loved him so much. He was truly a green flag.

“You always steal Sonia away! Can’t I hang out with my best friend for just one day?!”

I laughed as Themarie and Victor playfully bickered. To me, they were blessings from God. My parents may have been taken early, but He gave me two people who became my world: my best friend and my boyfriend.

That lasted through college. Victor and I graduated, but Themarie didn’t. Her parents couldn’t afford her tuition anymore, so I helped her. I helped her get into the modeling industry.

Eventually, I became a well-known actress, admired for my work.

But now...

“What I don’t understand, Themarie, is why you did this. I don’t remember doing anything to hurt you. Why destroy my family? Why hurt Vladimir? What did my son ever do to you?” I asked, standing before the prison bars, looking at her as she sat on the floor, staring blankly into space.

The police confirmed she was abusing my son. They arrested her immediately. Four days before her transfer, I visited her.

“If you liked Victor, I would’ve never gotten in the way. If I had known, I wouldn’t have accepted him,” I told her.

She turned to me with a bitter laugh.

“Hah! You expect me to believe that?”

I held her gaze and said, “Before I met Victor, you were the first person to enter my life.”

I overheard her during our senior high graduation, talking to her friends. That was when I found out the real reason she befriended me—she needed me for her image.

“And yet, you stayed. You were always there. I was never alone, thanks to you.”

Suddenly, she grabbed the bars and screamed.

“That’s what I hate about you! That’s what I hate most!”

I stepped back in shock. A few officers started approaching, but I held up a hand to stop them.

“I hate your smile. I hate how you always think positively. You’re always smiling! I hate it! I hate you!”

Her eyes were full of rage.

“How can you hate that I’m happy? Why, Themarie? I don’t understand,” I said.

“I hate your face!”

“Go away! Don’t ever come back!”

She hit the bars repeatedly, screaming that she never wanted to see me again.

—

“Why is it so quiet? Where are the kids?” Sophia asked.

I went upstairs to the playroom. They weren’t in France’s room, so I was sure they were in there.

I pushed open the slightly ajar door.

“I told you maroon and pink don’t mix well. The color barely changed.”

I saw France, Vladimir, and Fabian on the floor with art supplies scattered around. They were working on a project.

“I can’t get the exact shade of your eyes. What should I do?”

France and Fabian looked at Vladimir, who crawled closer and showed them his sketch.

Fabian coughed, and France’s mouth dropped open.

Even I was stunned by Vladimir’s drawing.

“You can just use blue, right?” Fabian asked, pointing to the paint.

“They look blue at first, but they’re not,” Vladimir said, staring at their eyes.

France grabbed a mirror and examined her eyes. Fabian peeked in too. I laughed quietly—France looked so cute.

Then I remembered what Themarie had said—that she hated my way of thinking.

She was wrong.

It’s not that I’m always positive. There were moments I wanted to give up too. But needing to be okay and wanting to be okay are two different things.

“I need to be okay. I can’t give up. Because I have people to protect. Not everyone around me is like Themarie, who finds satisfaction in my sadness,” I whispered.

I looked at Fabian, who was helping Vladimir paint.

“Just use blue as the base, and white for shadowing,” I said as I walked into the room.

The three of them looked up at me.

“Mom!”

France and Vladimir rushed over and hugged me. I knelt down and kissed both their cheeks.

“What were you three doing that you didn’t notice I got home?” I asked, glancing at Fabian, who chuckled.

“Sorry, honey. We were busy with their project. I thought you’d be home later.”

I opened my arm and called Fabian over. I needed a hug.

He stood and hugged me.

“You heard the news, didn’t you? You don’t look okay,” he whispered.

Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t stop them anymore.

“She’s dead,” I whispered.

On the drive home, I tried to focus on all the bad things she did, so I wouldn’t break down. She didn’t deserve my tears—not after what she did to my son and tried to do to our family.

But the tears still came.

“What are we going to do with you, Mom? You’re too soft-hearted,” France said, hugging my head.

I cried harder. I just couldn’t find it in me to be angry.

“Mom, please don’t cry. I’m about to cry too,” Vladimir said, his own tears brimming.

“What the heck, guys,” Fabian said, pulling both Vladimir and me into a hug.

“I’m trying not to cry,” I whispered.

“I know. I can see that,” Fabian replied.

I looked up at him.

“I’m serious.”

He smiled gently. “I know.”

“You cry more than our kids do.”