I honestly didn't want to go.
Every cell in my body resisted the idea the moment my manager told me about the campaign.
"They want you again," she said, barely hiding her excitement. "Lueur. Brand ambassadorship. They said you're theperfect comeback face. Fresh. Fierce. Unapologetic."
I didn't answer right away.
I was in the middle of a lukewarm coffee and a half-read script, and the mention of that brand, the one tied so tightly to him made my stomach twist.
"I can say no," I finally muttered, almost like a reflex.
There was a pause on the line.
Then she dropped the bomb.
"I already signed the contract."
I blinked. "What?"
"It was too good to pass up, Margaux. Seven digits, creative control, international exposure. I didn't think you'd mind—especially now that everyone loves you again."
I pressed my lips together.
Of course she would say that. Everyone did love me again.
The Philippines, at least.
But there was still one person who didn't and it just so happened he was the reason i left in the first place.
Still, I didn't fight it.
Maybe i was tired of fighting fate.
-
The Lueur studio smelled the same.
That familiar blend of luxury jasmine, vanilla, and something more expensive than my perfume.
I kept my head low as i walked in, flanked by a team of stylists, assistants, and a camera crew that seemed bigger than necessary.
I had one job: shoot the campaign.
Get it done. Leave.
But life has a way of throwing curveballs when you least expect it.
I had just changed into the final look, a black velvet dress with gold embroidery, hair pinned high, a bold lip shade staining my mouth, when i heard the door behind me open.
My heart dropped before i even saw her.
Claudia Isabela Araneta Gutierrez.
The woman whose cheekbones had graced magazines since i was in high school.
The very heart and soul of the Lueur Empire. She was… breathtaking.
Still. Even now.
Like time didn't dare age her.
"Margaux," she greeted, with that composed smile that never quite reached the eyes.
I stood up and nodded. "Miss Gutierrez."
"I've been watching your performance on screen. Very compelling." She tilted her head, assessing me the way only a real power player could. "Thank you for accepting the campaign."
"It wasn't exactly my choice," I murmured, offering a small, dry smile.
To my surprise, she chuckled lightly. "I like honesty."
Her voice was soft, but it carried weight.
I could see where Sebastian got that quiet kind of gravity.
I didn't expect to feel anything in that moment, but being in the same room as her made my chest ache.
Maybe because she reminded me of what i lost or maybe because i could see fragments of him in the way she looked at me, curious, reserved, unreadable.
The shoot went on without a hitch.
The lights, the poses, the angles.
My body moved like it remembered what to do. Acting helped.
I could pretend i wasn't drowning inside. I could pretend i wasn't wondering if he'd see the billboard… and look away.
I was just about to step into the elevator when I heard my name.
"Margaux?"
I turned around.
Atasha.
She was in her usual oversized hoodie, one hand holding her phone, the other adjusting her eyeglasses.
Her brows furrowed in confusion, lips parting.
"What are you doing here?"
I was stunned.
Did she not know?
"I—uh, I just finished a shoot," I replied, trying to sound casual.
She blinked. "Wait… shoot? For what?"
"I'm… the face of the new Lueur campaign."
Her eyes widened like saucers. "You're a celebrity?"
I laughed awkwardly. "I thought you knew."
"No! I mean, no one ever told me. I thought you were, like… a neighbor or something. An influencer at most." She scratched her head, processing. "Wow. This is so wild. So, wait—you're that Margaux?"
"That Margaux," I echoed.
"I loved your movie with Dustin!" she suddenly exclaimed. "You were so good in it. My mom cried."
My smile faltered a bit. "Did she?"
"Oh yeah. Mom said you reminded her of herself in her younger years. That mix of vulnerability and fire."
I swallowed hard.
The compliment wasn't just a compliment, it was a knife.
And then she said the words i wasn't ready for.
"Hey, we're having dinner at the house tonight. Come with me?"
I froze. "Atasha…"
"Please?" she asked, bouncing slightly.
"Mom would be thrilled. And Dad's cooking. He never cooks unless it's a big deal."
Big deal.
I shouldn't have said yes.
But i did.
-
Their house is really like a mansion, i mean it is..
The garden was still perfectly manicured, and the scent of lemongrass wafted through the air as we walked past the hallway.
Everything was warm and elegant, so unlike the coldness i felt that night he left me in tears.
Miss Claudia greeted me with a polite smile again. Raphael, Sebastian's dad, was charming and surprisingly kind. "Nice to finally meet you, Margaux. You were brilliant in Together, We Fight Back. My colleagues were raving about it."
"Thank you, Dr. Gutierrez."
He chuckled. "Call me tito Raphael."
The dinner table was set. Steak, salad, red wine.
And then, i heard footsteps descending the stairs.
I didn't need to look.
I felt him.
Sebastian.
He stopped when he saw me, the smallest flicker of something passing through his eyes.
He wore a black shirt, his hair a little longer now, his frame leaner, sharper, like he had grown into a colder version of himself.
"Hi," I said.
He didn't speak.
Atasha looked between us. "Didn't you guys—"
"I'll sit here," Sebastian said, pulling out the chair farthest from mine.
Dinner was awkward.
Painfully so.
But it was after dessert, after Claudia and Raphael excused themselves that we ended up in the same corner of the terrace.
Alone.
I sipped my water, trying to act like my heart wasn't cracking again just being this close to him.
He finally spoke.
"You didn't have to come."
"I didn't plan to," I whispered. "Your sister invited me."
Silence.
"Congrats on the campaign," he muttered, eyes fixed on the skyline. "You always did look good in gold."
I exhaled, eyes stinging. "Sebastian…"
"Don't," he said quickly. "Not unless you're ready to say something real."
I turned to face him. "I've been watching your concerts. Your documentaries. Every time you go on stage. I still—"
He shook his head. "No. Don't do that."
I stepped forward anyway. "I didn't leave because i stopped caring. I left because i thought that's what you needed. You were rising. You were becoming someone unstoppable. And i was the one thing that could ruin it."
"You didn't even let me decide," he snapped. "You decided for me."
"I was scared," I admitted. "I thought pushing you away would hurt less than seeing you fall because of me."
He looked down, jaw tight. "You broke me, Margaux."
I blinked away tears. "I know."
He turned to me, eyes glassy. "And you let me think i didn't mean anything."
"I said those things because i knew you'd never let go if i didn't."
He was silent for a long while.
Then he nodded slowly.
"I should hate you."
I nodded, too. "You should."
Another beat of silence.
"But i don't."
That was the moment my knees nearly buckled.
He looked at me again, eyes unreadable but less cold now.
"I don't know what this is anymore," he said. "I don't know what we're supposed to be. But… maybe we'll find out."
I held my breath.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, I let hope bloom in my chest again.