Anisa's parents ushered her into their car and drove home, followed by Yusuf, Kirana, and Yugh in separate vehicles. The rest of the crowd at the church dispersed, leaving behind the hollow shell of the cancelled ceremony. đ€Ż
At the house, Anisa's mother and Kirana flanked her, guiding her gently to a bedroom. Once they were gone, Yugh, Yusuf, and Mr. Manalo sat in the living room. Breaking the heavy silence, Yugh told them everything how he had recently discovered Hasan's true nature. Mr. Manalo was consumed by guilt over the pain and trauma his decision had caused his daughter.
In the bedroom, Anisa's mother and sister tried to comfort her. After a while, Anisa found a fragile voice. "Ha...Hasan... he was always trying to control me, to subjugate me. He would touch me, kiss me, without any regard for my consent. It made me so uncomfortable," she whispered, staring at the floor. đ
"Why didn't you tell us about this?" Kirana asked, her heart aching.
"I was scared," Anisa admitted, her voice barely audible. "My first independent decision about love ended in disaster for everyone. So, I trusted that the decision you all made for me this time was right." đȘ
Hearing this, the three men from the living room entered the bedroom. Mr. Manalo went to his daughter, stroking her hair, his face etched with sorrow. "My daughter, forgive me. I never thought that man was a monster. I've ruined your life."
"Oh, Dad, it's not your fault. No one could have seen Hasan's true face," she reassured him softly. đ
To give her space, her parents, Kirana, and Yusuf quietly left the room. But Yugh stayed. He sat facing her, his gaze gentle. "Your lips, your face... are they hurting a lot?" he asked quietly.
She said nothing, only shaking her head slightly. Then, Yugh told her everything, the conversation he had overheard at the restaurant, the crude boasts of Hasan and his friends, Jaden and the others. As she listened, the memory of that dinner party resurfaced; the subtle, unwelcome touches under the table, the leering looks she had tried to ignore. đ„
A wave of disgust washed over her, not at them, but at her own obliviousness. Unknowingly, I let myself be used by so many for their own gratification, she thought, the realization bitter and humiliating.
Finally, the dam broke. With no strength left to hold it in, she leaned forward, resting her forehead against Yugh's shoulder, and cried deep, wrenching sobs that came from a place of violated trust, public humiliation, and profound relief. Yugh said nothing. He simply sat there, a steady, silent presence, offering the only solace he could, his unwavering support in the face of her complete unraveling. đ