Lahat ng Kabanata ng She, His Enigma: Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

Ellaya had been bustling in the kitchen since dawn, her hands moving with quiet excitement as she prepared all his favorite dishes. The soft sizzle of garlic in butter, the comforting aroma of slow-cooked stew, and the golden crust of freshly baked bread filled the air. She even baked a cake—chocolate, with cream on top—despite knowing he didn’t have a sweet tooth. It was their first wedding anniversary, and she wanted everything to be perfect. A delicate ribbon-bound box sat waiting on the table beside a handwritten note, and the house was gently transformed—candlelight flickered along the shelves, and flowers bloomed in every corner, white lilies and pale pink peonies, his favorites. After one final check of the dinner setup, she slipped into the shower. Warm water traced the tension from her shoulders, her body soft with anticipation. She applied lotion, ran a comb through her hair, and added just a touch of makeup—enough to accentuate her eyes and brighten her cheeks. Her white

Ellaya’s search through the empty streets yielded nothing—no voices, no lights, no sign of Iden. The world had hollowed out. Each step echoed against the wet pavement, her soaked shoes slapping the ground like reminders of how far she’d come—and how far she’d fallen. Desperation gnawed at her ribs, sharp and breathless. Maybe he’s still at the office. The thought flickered, fragile as a match in a storm. Her body moved on instinct, legs aching, soaked to the bone. The rain didn't fall—it clawed at her, slicing across her face like glass. --- Hours later, she reached the tall silhouette of his office building. Dark. Still. Empty. No light behind the glass, no shadow at the window. Just a lifeless monolith rising into the stormy sky. She stopped. Drenched, defeated. Her white dress clung to her skin, heavy with rain and regret. Once radiant, it now looked ghostly—like a shroud. The wind howled, yanking her hair like invisible fingers. Rain ran down her neck and spine. Her a

The weight of his thoughts bore down on him as the plush leather sofa sagged beneath his burdened frame. Around him, the nightclub pulsed with sound—throbbing bass, clinking glasses, the electric hum of temporary connections. But inside Iden, a storm churned louder than the music. Kaito’s voice sliced through the haze. “We got the deal.” He thrust the signed document into Iden’s hand, the paper still warm from the printer. A symbol of victory. Of power. It should have sparked satisfaction. Iden barely glanced at it. His fingers curled loosely around the page, but his eyes were distant, his expression unreadable. With a silent exhale, he took another sip of his drink. The amber liquid scorched his throat—but it couldn’t thaw the ice around his heart. Kaito raised an eyebrow, reading the hollowness in his friend’s reaction. “Thinking about your high-and-mighty wife again?” he prodded, scanning the crowd for distraction. The club was a blur of sequins and sweat, euphoria and illusio

Each morning, the shrill beep of the alarm pierced the silence, dragging Ellaya from shallow sleep into another day of solitude. She moved like a ghost through her routine—boiling water for tea she rarely drank, wiping down already-clean counters, folding laundry that had sat untouched in drawers. The only sounds were the low whir of the washing machine and the clink of porcelain. The house, once filled with casual banter and soft music, had become a shell of stillness. When she unlocked the store room's door, a sigh slipped past her lips. The shelves were thinning again. It was time to restock. But without Iden, the income had all but disappeared. She bit the inside of her cheek as she flipped open the register, eyes scanning the dwindling numbers. Her fingers hovered over the savings ledger with a hesitance that felt heavier each day—then dropped, as if even her touch had grown too tired to resist gravity. In the pantry, she pulled out a packet of rice. It had been days since she’d

As the day melted away into dusk, her heart smoldered with a fiery mix of anger and betrayal. Each second dragged on, a taunting reminder of the man who had abandoned her to face life’s storms alone. Despite her frustration, a flicker of unwavering trust lingered deep within her—a trust reserved for the man she cherished above all. She imagined him basking in sun-kissed escapades on distant shores, surrounded by strangers, as if she were a forgotten memory. The urge to unleash a tempest of accusations and sorrowful cries clawed at her insides, yet an invisible thread tethered her to the belief in his love. No video or photo could sway her steadfast heart from its loyalty. As twilight settled over her world, she stood on the edge of an emotional storm, torn between the agony of doubt and the enduring flame of love for a man whose shadow now loomed large over her fractured heart. Refusing to dwell on the same thoughts and act like a damsel in distress, she decided to do somethin