The Next Day....
Ro woke up to the heaviness of a man who had fought battles in his sleep.
For a mont, he didn’t even know where he was. The ceiling above him was a blurry sheet of white, swimming in and out of focus as his vision tried to adjust.
His head pounded in painfully. The room slled faintly of alcohol, cold air, and exhaustion scents that clung to him.
A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes, pulsing like a reminder of what happened the night before.
He blinked once. Twice. And the mories rushed back.
Ro shut his eyes tightly, as if darkness could erase the words that had carved themselves into his mind. But nothing disappeared. Everything stayed. Everything hurt.
He turned his head to the side, and the sight that greeted him only made his chest tighten further.
Empty bottles littered the living room floor, whiskey, wine, whatever he had managed to reach last night in a desperate attempt to suppress the storm inside his head. He had been drinking without thinking, drinking without tasting, drinking without realizing that every swallow only made the noise in his mind grow louder.
He slowly forced himself to sit up. The movent made his vision tilt, and he steadied himself by gripping the couch.
His chest felt tight. Not just from the hangover, but from the weight of questions he couldn’t run from anymore. His throat was painfully dry, his hands cold, trembling slightly.
He dragged a hand down his face, trying to ground himself. He wasn’t soone who used alcohol to escape. He wasn’t the kind of man who curled into himself every ti life got ssy. He wasn’t weak.
But last night....Last night, even he broke. Because he wasn’t the type of man to receive news that shattered the entire foundation of what he believed.
Sylvia....
Cairo, his hidden son.
Their kids, their triplets.
Her pregnancy complications. Her real background. Her powerful family. The truth she hid for years.
Ro felt the tremor in his hands return, stronger this ti, as the images replayed behind his eyelids.
He tried to shake his head, tried to force himself to stop thinking, but he couldn’t get it out of his mind. No matter how much he hated it, no matter how much he wanted to reverse ti, the truth clung to him.
He exhaled shakily and pushed himself to stand.
His legs were unsteady, almost giving out beneath him. But he pushed forward, step by step, toward the sink. He needed to pull himself together. He needed his head to clear, at least enough for him to breathe.
Cold water hit his skin as he splashed his face again and again.
But the shock didn’t steady him. The trembling didn’t stop. The fear didn’t disappear.
He lifted his gaze to the mirror.
What stared back at him wasn’t the Ro people feared. Not the Ro who built an empire in the business world. The man in the mirror had bloodshot eyes, a clenched jaw, and a haunted look that refused to leave. He looked exhausted, worn down by years of regret, fear, and longing.
A man on the edge of breaking.
He braced himself on the sink, breath shaky and uneven. He needed to see Sylvia.
He needed to see her yesterday. He should have gone to her right after Gio told him the truth. But he didn’t. He froze. He backed away. He hid behind alcohol and fear.
Fear of himself. Fear of what he might say. Fear of what he might hear.
Back then, years ago—he had tried so hard to keep Sylvia close that he didn’t realize he was pushing her away. He controlled her. Held on too tightly. Tried to protect her in all the wrong ways.
She ran. She chose freedom instead of him.
He learned his lesson the hard way. He repented, changed himself, hated himself for it. He built walls around his impulses, forced himself to beco better, calr, less possessive.
And now...Now that he knew she had suffered alone...
Now that he learned she had carried their children while dealing with complications...
Now that he learned she had hidden everything...
He didn’t know whether she had truly betrayed him.
Maybe she didn’t cheat.
Maybe she didn’t lie to hurt him.
Maybe she didn’t choose another man over him.
Maybe she was scared.
Maybe she ran from sothing he failed to see.
He didn’t know.
He couldn’t know—unless she told him herself.
And he needed to hear her side. Even if it shattered him. Even if it changed everything.
But the fear inside him only grew thicker.
What if Sylvia pushed him away? What if she refused to explain anything? What if she looked at him the sa way she did before she left, guarded and distant?
Ro closed his eyes and exhaled, long and trembling.
He had faced enemies, competition, and high-profile business deals. He had even turned his own family into his enemies because they kept getting in the way of him building his business empire. He had stood in etings with millions on the line without ever flinching.
And he had survived all of them.
But the thought of facing Sylvia—
The woman who silently broke him without even knowing she had broken him...it made him feel like he was drowning.
He clenched the counter so hard his knuckles paled.
He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t afraid of confrontation. He wasn’t afraid of Sylvia.
But he was terrified of losing her. Terrified of losing the right to his own children. Terrified of discovering she left because of him.
Because he wasn’t enough. Because he didn’t protect her. Because he failed her without realizing it.
He cursed under his breath and pushed himself away from the sink. He couldn’t think anymore. Thinking only tore him apart.
He needed to see her. Now.
He grabbed his keys, barely noticing the bottles he stepped over, and headed toward the door. His heart hamred in his chest, beating too fast, too loud.
His hand froze on the doorknob.
"...I need to see her..." he whispered to himself.
He wasn’t ready. Not even close. But waiting would only destroy him more.
He stepped outside, got into his car, and gripped the steering wheel until his fingers ached.
As the engine roared to life, fear crept into him again.
What was he going to say?
Was he going to confront her?
Should he tell her he already knew about their kids? Would she hate him for it?
Would she push him out of their children’s lives? Would she disappear again?
His mind spun uncontrollably.
But in the end, he stepped on the gas.
I don’t know anymore...
The drive blurred into aningless colors. He rembered turns only through muscle mory, not through awareness.
When he reached Sylvia’s neighborhood, his heartbeat raced, fast, uneven, painfully loud. His throat dried. His palms grew cold and sweaty. His breathing quickened.
He parked the car, nearly stumbling as he stepped out. His legs felt weak. His entire body felt like it was working against him. Still, he forced himself to walk down the narrow street.
When he reached Sylvia’s house, he stared at the door as if it were the final obstacle in his life.
Just a few steps. He swallowed hard, clenched his jaw, and walked forward. He knocked once.
Softly.
No answer.
He knocked again—louder this ti.
"Sylvia?"
Silence.
His pulse quickened.
He knocked harder, voice strained with sothing close to desperation.
"Sylvia, it’s . Open the door."
Still nothing.
His stomach twisted painfully.
He pressed his ear to the door, listening.
No footsteps. No children. No soft voices. No movent.
Nothing.
A cold wave washed over him.
He stepped back, trying to peer through the window, but the curtains were drawn tightly like soone didn’t want anyone to see inside. He checked the side of the house. Empty. He checked the back. Quiet.
His heart rang in his ears.
Don’t tell she ran away again.
mories of the day she left him resurfaced.
What if she saw him holding Cairo yesterday and panicked? What if she thought he would take the kids?bWhat if she left again because of him?
"No... no..." he whispered. "Not again."
He ran back to the front door and slamd his fist against it.
"Sylvia! Please—open the door!"
His voice cracked.
"Sylvia, please!"
Still nothing.
His knees gave out, and he sank onto the front steps, trembling violently. He buried his face in his hands.
"What... what did you do, Sylvia?" he whispered. "Why did you leave again...?"
His voice broke as he stared at the silent house.
For the first ti in years, Ro felt completely, utterly powerless.
Until—
"What are you doing here, young man? Are you waiting for Sylvia again?"
Ro flinched and looked up. Tess, Sylvia’s neighbor—stood by the gate, watching him curiously.
He imdiately stood, trying to mask how restless he was.
"Sylvia and the kids still haven’t co ho since the kids’ birthday yesterday," Tess continued casually. "So I decided to clean their house and water the plants for the anti. You didn’t see her at the amusent park?"
Ro froze.
So her neighbor cleaned the house? That’s why everything looked untouched?
His brow furrowed with confusion.
"T-they still haven’t co back?" Ro asked, voice shaky. "I-I an... they didn’t leave for good, right?"
Tess gave him a puzzled look.
"Why are you talking like they wouldn’t co ho? They didn’t leave. I told you—they went to the amusent park. They’re not running away."
So tension left Ro’s face, but the doubt still lingered.
"A-are you sure they’re coming back?"
"Yes. You should just wait here if you’re that worried.." Tess replied before walking away.
"T-thank you..."
He finally breathed, relief flooding into him.
But just as he exhaled—
A quiet voice ca from behind him.
"What are you doing... here?"
Ro froze.
He slowly turned—
And saw Sylvia standing a few steps away, staring at him with wide, unreadable eyes.
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