All Chapters of SOFT CURVES: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Because Vincent had invited her to eat bibingka and puto bumbong after mass, Isla noticed that the sun was beginning to rise when they finally arrived back home. The early morning light was gently creeping through the windows, signaling the start of the day. As they entered, Isla couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm, knowing that Vincent’s parents would soon be starting their day. She had been here enough times to know the routine, and everything felt familiar yet comforting. It was moments like this when she felt that she was becoming more a part of their world, and she couldn't help but smile at the thought.As Isla had expected, Vincent’s parents were just waking up, and they found them in the dining room, eating breakfast. The smell of freshly cooked food wafted through the house, making her stomach grumble slightly. She could hear the sound of utensils clinking against plates and the soft murmur of their voices as she and Vincent entered. The scene before her was simple, but

"MISS Beautiful! Why did it take you so long?" Vincent asked cheerfully when Isla finally arrived at their meeting place. His voice was full of excitement, the kind of lighthearted tone that was typical of him, but it didn't go unnoticed by Isla how his eyes immediately studied her as she approached. The usual spark of mischief in his gaze seemed to falter for a moment, replaced by an expression of curiosity. He had been waiting for a while, but his attention now shifted solely to her, sensing that something was amiss. As Isla sat down beside him, she felt the weight of his gaze on her, and despite her best efforts to pull herself together, the sadness she had been trying so hard to suppress began to surface."Isla, sweetheart," he added, his tone suddenly shifting, now gentle and filled with concern as he caught sight of the tears streaking down her face. His usual teasing nature faded, and he reached out instinctively, his hand hovering just above hers as if waiting for permission

“I’ve been wanting to ask you, Isla. What happened to your arm?” April’s voice broke the silence that hung over the library, her tone laced with concern. They were seated at their usual corner, surrounded by shelves stacked with books and the faint rustle of pages turning. It was their sanctuary during long breaks, a space where they could quietly prepare for the next period or discuss life’s latest curveballs. April’s eyes didn’t stray from Isla’s arm, the faint red mark peeking out from under her uniform sleeve drawing her attention like a magnet. She leaned slightly forward, her concern palpable, waiting for an answer.Isla sighed softly, placing a bookmark in her novel before shutting it and looking up at her best friend. Her lips curved into a weak smile, attempting to downplay the situation. “Ah, Tanya. If you know what I mean?” she replied with a half-hearted chuckle, shrugging her shoulders as if to brush off the gravity of the matter. Though her tone seemed casual, her

With all the love she had for him, Isla gently ran her fingers through Vincent’s damp hair, savoring the softness of each strand as it slid between her fingertips. She couldn’t quite explain why, but as her hand continued to caress his hair, she felt an intense warmth growing inside her, an energy that seemed to radiate from him. Despite the fact that his skin was still damp from just coming out of the shower, she didn’t feel any coldness, as one might expect. In fact, the sensation was the complete opposite; the warmth of his skin against hers sent a surge of heat through her, making her pulse quicken with every touch. It was as if her body was responding to him in ways she had never felt before, and she found herself getting lost in the intimacy of the moment.Maybe it was because this was the first time she had the chance to admire Vincent’s physique so closely. As he stood there, his bare chest still glistening with droplets of water, Isla couldn’t help but let her gaze wander ov

“I LIKE Tanya, I find her a perfect match for you. Well, she told me you dated?” his mother casually mentioned as they sat down for dinner that evening. Her voice was light, almost too casual, as if the subject was just another trivial topic among many. But Vincent knew better. His mother rarely brought up anything unless she had an agenda, and he could already feel the weight of her intentions settling in the air between them. He wasn’t surprised—she had always been particular about who he dated. For her, a woman like Tanya seemed like the ideal candidate: well-mannered, sophisticated, and from the right background.Vincent immediately felt a wave of irritation wash over him. He didn’t want to revisit this subject, but he knew that avoidance wouldn’t work. His mother had a way of steering conversations toward what she wanted to discuss, no matter how uncomfortable it made him. His gaze flickered to his plate, but his mind was already elsewhere, replaying the history between him and