Shattered Pieces (Tagalog)

Alena never imagined the birthday cake she'd carried home with such care would become the silent witness to the end of her life.

Her body was shattered. Not from the chemotherapy she'd endured just hours ago, but from the moans echoing behind her bedroom door.

"Ohh... Tristan... deeper..."

Alena's hand trembled on the doorknob. Her head pounded. This had to be a nightmare. Side effects from the chemo making her hallucinate.

"Baby... you're incredible."

That voice... belonged to her husband. Tristan Kensington. The man she'd been married to for three years.

Alena pushed the door open slowly. The scene before her squeezed her heart like a vice. On the king-size bed she'd bought with money earned from her grueling hours at the multinational PR firm, her husband was tangled with another woman.

Not just any woman. She was—

"SIENNA?!"

Alena's voice pierced the air. The cake box slipped from her hands and hit the floor with a crash, making both figures on the bed jolt.

Sienna Reid—Alena's best friend since high school in New York—stared back with wide eyes. Her long hair was disheveled, her body barely covered by a thin sheet. Alena's sheet—the one she'd bought last month with her performance bonus.

"Alena... you're home already?"

Tristan whispered, his tone annoyed rather than remorseful. He didn't even scramble off the bed. He just watched her coldly, as if Alena weren't his wife but merely a minor inconvenience in his day.

"How long has this been going on?"

Alena's voice came out calmer than she'd expected. Maybe her body was too exhausted for rage. Or maybe her heart had died first.

"Alena, just listen—"

Sienna tried to move closer, still clutching the sheet around herself.

"HOW LONG?!"

Alena's scream tore free. Her chest constricted. Her breathing grew labored. Her head spun—not from the leukemia slowly consuming her body, but from a betrayal too cruel, more lethal than any cancer.

Tristan lit a cigarette, sitting casually on the edge of the bed. "A year."

"A year?"

Alena's eyes widened in disbelief.

A year of Tristan and Sienna playing behind her back. A year of her working herself to the bone to support this household while Tristan bounced from job to job. A year of crying on Sienna's shoulder about how exhausting life had become, while her best friend was sleeping with her husband.

"Why?"

The question sounded pathetic, but she needed an answer. She needed to hear the reason behind this betrayal.

Sienna looked down. But Tristan? He laughed loudly, as if Alena's question were nothing but a joke.

"Because you're boring, Alena. You think I married you for love? I needed money. And you were stupid enough to hand over every paycheck. And besides, you've been consumed by your illness for two years. I need attention. I need a woman who can actually satisfy me."

Alena's knees buckled. It felt like the floor beneath her had collapsed. She leaned against the doorframe to keep from falling.

"And you, Sienna?"

Alena stared at her friend—her former friend—intently. The woman she'd always considered a sister.

"Of all the men in the world, why my husband?"

Sienna lifted her face. Her eyes were red, but this time Alena saw something else. Not regret. Hatred.

"Because you always got everything, Alena! You graduated summa cum laude. You landed the perfect job. You married Tristan!"

"I GAVE YOU ALL OF THAT!"

Alena screamed, no longer caring that her breath was becoming dangerously shallow.

"I helped you graduate! I recommended you for the job at my company! And Tristan? You think marrying a man like him was some kind of prize?!"

Tristan stood, his eyes narrowing dangerously. He stepped toward Alena with an expression that made her shudder.

"Watch your mouth, Alena."

"Or what?" Alena challenged. "What are you going to do if I don't? Leave me? Please! I want a divorce anyway!"

"Divorce?"

Tristan moved closer. Too close, until Alena could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on his breath.

"You think I'm going to let you walk away after I took out a five-million-dollar life insurance policy on you with me as the beneficiary? That's enough money for Sienna and me to start fresh."

Alena's heart stopped. The blood in her veins turned to ice.

"What?"

Her lips barely moved. The words struggled to escape her parched throat.

Sienna rose from the bed, now wearing a nightgown—Alena's nightgown, the one she'd only worn a handful of times because she treasured it too much to risk ruining it.

"Tristan, not now—"

"She already knows, Sienna. No point pretending anymore."

Tristan smiled. The smile that once made Alena fall in love now looked demonic.

"Dr. Julian says you won't last more than six months. We just need to be a little more patient."

Dr. Julian Marks. Alena's trusted physician. The doctor who'd handled her care since her leukemia diagnosis at Manhattan Memorial Hospital. She never imagined he'd leak her medical information.

"You're... planning something?"

Alena's voice trembled. Her body shook. Fear flooded her at the thought of what Tristan and Sienna had in mind.

"Relax, Alena. We'll make your death look like complications from your disease. No one will suspect a thing."

Tristan picked up a glass from the nightstand. The glass Alena used every night.

"Take your medicine, sweetheart. It's time for your pills, isn't it?"

Alena stared at the glass. Every night, Tristan prepared her medication with that glass. Every night, she'd taken it without question. Without ever asking.

"What kind of medicine have you been giving me all this time?"

The realization came too late. She remembered how her health had deteriorated, especially these past few months.

Tristan didn't answer. He just smiled, and that smile told her everything. A smile that made her skin crawl.

Alena backed away. Her foot caught on the fallen cake box. The birthday cake for Tristan. Today was Tristan's 32nd birthday. And Alena, the dying fool of a wife, had still bought him a cake.

"Don't even think about running, Alena."

Tristan stepped forward. Sienna stood behind him, both their faces empty of emotion. But Alena no longer cared.

She turned and ran with every ounce of strength she had left. The elevator. She had to reach the elevator.

The doors opened as Alena frantically hammered the button. She stumbled inside, jabbing the lobby button. The doors began to close.

Tristan appeared at the end of the corridor, sprinting toward her.

The elevator doors shut before his hand could stop them.

Alena's breath came in ragged gasps. Her heart hammered violently. So violently her vision began to blur.

She slumped in the corner of the elevator, staring at her reflection in the mirrored walls. Pale face, sunken eyes, skeletal frame. A woman on the brink of death.

But she wasn't ready to die. Not before she made Tristan and Sienna pay.

The elevator stopped on the 12th floor. The doors opened. A man stepped inside. He froze when he saw her.

"Are you okay?"

His voice was deep, genuinely concerned.

Alena lifted her head. The man looked familiar. Expensive black suit, sharp features, dark eyes watching her intently

"Please..."

Her voice broke.

"Help me..."

Her vision went black before she could hear his answer.