"In her silence, he found the truth she never had the courage to say."
*****
(Brayden's POV)
Each step away from the orphanage felt heavier, as if the earth itself refused to let me leave her behind.
When I finally closed the car door, silence didn't comfort me — it caved in on me.
For a long time, I just sat there — hands gripping the steering wheel, my mind echoing with one sound that refused to fade.
Her laughter.
Her smile.
Her face.
Everything about Ella lingered in my head — soft, pure, too familiar to be a coincidence.
My chest tightened, a dull ache blooming beneath my ribs.
Slowly, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a single strand of dark hair.
It shimmered faintly under the daylight — fine, innocent, almost unreal.
And yet, my fingers trembled as I slipped it into a small plastic bag.
It shouldn't matter this much.
But it did.
Because deep down, I already knew.
I just needed proof.
*****
The hospital smelled of antiseptic and rain.
I walked through the quiet white corridors, ignoring the curious glances from the nurses.
My request was simple — a private DNA test.
The doctor didn't ask questions. He just nodded and started the procedure.
Blood. Hair.
Truth.
All sealed in silence.
Hours later, he returned holding an envelope.
"Mr. Roderigo," he said softly, "the results are ready."
My pulse faltered — I took the envelope. The paper felt warm — as if it carried all the fear I'd been avoiding for years.
For a moment, I just stared at it.
Then, with a shaky breath, I opened it.
My eyes scanned the lines.
And the world stopped.
Probability of paternity: 99.98%
For a moment, I couldn't even feel my own body. It was as if the world had stopped turning, waiting for me to breathe again.
My vision blurred.
The paper trembled between my hands.
So it was true.
Ella… was mine.
A strangled sound escaped me — half a laugh, half a broken breath.
My hand pressed against my chest, as if I could contain the ache that burned there.
"God…" I whispered hoarsely. "So this is it, huh?"
The silence pressed in from every direction.
The air tasted like metal — sharp and cold.
I stared at the words again, letting every letter carve itself into my mind.
Probability of paternity: 99.98%.
My jaw clenched. The question slipped out, raw and bitter — soaked with everything I had lost.
"Is this why you left me, Anna?"
The words fell into the sterile air, swallowed by the quiet hum of hospital machines.
And for the first time in years, I felt everything I'd buried — joy, anger, grief — all at once.
My daughter.
The words echoed in my chest, soft and brutal at once.
For years, I thought losing Brianna was the punishment.
Turns out, the real punishment was never knowing her… never knowing her.
My eyes lingered on the paper until the words blurred into the past.
The hospital walls faded.
And just like that, the years folded back — taking me to the night everything began to fall apart.
*****
Seven Years Ago
After that night — the night we crossed a line we never meant to — everything changed.
Her calls stopped. Her messages stopped.
And before I knew it, so did we.
She stopped calling.
Stopped texting.
Stopped being there.
When I saw her on campus to finalize our graduation paperwork, she just walked past me.
No glance. No greeting.
Like I was a stranger she'd never known.
"Hey, what's up with Brianna? She used to follow you everywhere," one of my friends joked.
I shrugged. "No idea. Maybe she's just mad."
But I was wrong. So damn wrong.
Graduation day came.
And Brianna… never showed up.
Her seat was empty.
Her name was called, but no one walked across the stage.
Anxiety clawed at my chest.
I found her best friend, Talia.
"Talia, do you know where Brianna is?" I asked, trying to stay calm.
Talia shook her head, worry clouding her face. "I don't. She was so excited yesterday… and then suddenly, she vanished."
Her words hit me like a blow.
Brianna would never miss a day like this — not without a reason.
When the ceremony ended, it wasn't her I saw.
It was her parents.
Her father approached me, face solemn.
"Brayden, we need to talk."
I frowned. "About what?"
He took a slow breath.
"Brianna has decided to end your engagement."
The words hit like stones.
I froze.
"She also wanted to apologize," he continued. "She realized this engagement wasn't what you truly wanted. She doesn't want to hold you in something that doesn't make you happy."
Relief should have come.
But it didn't.
All I felt was emptiness.
Her mother smiled sadly at me.
"Thank you, Brayden," she said softly. "You made her smile. She may seem spoiled, but she's been lonely for a long time. You were the only one who made her feel seen."
I stood there, speechless.
For the first time, I realized… I never really knew her.
"The engagement was the only thing she ever truly wanted," her mother added. "It was the first time she asked for something with her whole heart."
Her father patted my shoulder before leaving.
"Take care of yourself, Brayden."
And just like that — they were gone.
I stood there in the middle of the crowd, the noise fading into a suffocating hush.
I should've felt free.
But all I felt was loss.
My eyes searched the crowd — for a face that wasn't there.
"What happened to you, Brianna?" I whispered to no one.
*****
That night, I returned home.
The mansion felt colder than usual — silent except for the echo of my footsteps against the marble floors.
My father was in the living room.
A room that used to be my mother's favorite.
Now it only smelled of cigars and business papers. Her framed photo was gathering dust.
"You're back," he said flatly, not looking at me. "I heard Brianna's gone."
I stared at his back. "You knew?"
He closed a blue folder and leaned back in his chair.
"Of course. The Valencia family called earlier. They said the engagement's been called off."
The words fell like hammers.
And I… couldn't breathe.
"It's really over?" I asked quietly.
"Yes." He nodded, calm as ever. "And to be honest, I'm relieved."
I blinked. "Relieved?"
He finally looked at me. "You think I liked that girl? Too emotional. Too dramatic. Every time she came here, she turned this house into a storm."
I shook my head. "She just had her own way of showing how she felt."
"Feelings don't pay investments," he cut in coldly. "And I don't need a daughter-in-law who makes our family look weak in business."
I stared at him — wondering if he'd ever felt anything at all.
"She's not like that, Father."
"Enough," he snapped. "Fortunately, even with the engagement canceled, I still secured the deal with her father. In fact, it's worth more now. So, there's nothing to regret."
I froze.
"So that's it to you? Just business?"
He held my gaze, voice low but firm.
"You're still young. One day you'll understand — love is not a stable foundation for the future. Numbers never lie."
Then, as if remembering something, he reached into the drawer beside him.
When his hand emerged, something small gleamed in his palm — a velvet box.
"This was returned earlier," he said simply. "By the Valencias' driver."
My chest tightened as he opened it.
Inside, the ring caught the light — the same engagement ring I once slipped onto Brianna's finger, the same one she said she'd never take off.
"She didn't even want to deliver it herself," he added, tone laced with disdain. "Shows you what kind of girl she truly is."
I clenched my jaw, forcing the words out between my teeth. "Maybe she just couldn't face it."
My father ignored me. "Keep it. Or throw it away. It doesn't matter anymore."
Then he stood, taking his cigar with him as he left the room, his footsteps fading into the dark corridor.
I wanted to tell him that I didn't care about numbers — that not everything valuable could be counted.
But the words never made it past my throat.
I was left alone with the box — with everything we used to be, reduced to a piece of metal and memory.
That night, in my old room, I stood on the balcony and looked up at the same sky we once watched together.
The wind was cold. The stars distant.
In my palm, the ring glimmered faintly beneath the moonlight.
I turned it over between my fingers, the weight of it far heavier than gold should ever be.
"I'm done with her," I whispered to no one.
But even as the words left my lips, they tasted like a lie.
Because I wasn't done.
Not really.
Somewhere deep inside, I knew there was something she never told me.
Something that still chained me to her, even after all these years.
So that night, I made myself a promise.
The night wind carried her name, and for the first time, I let myself whisper it into the dark.
If fate ever brings us back together,
I'll find out why you left without a word.
And if the truth destroys me, then let it —
because I'd rather shatter in your truth than live peacefully in your silence.
I didn't know if fate would be cruel once more —
but that night, I swore to find you, Brianna.