"Sometimes, the truth doesn't set you free — it shatters everything you tried to protect."
*****
(Brianna's POV)
Today was supposed to be about hope — not the past breaking through the walls I built. The fundraising event for one of the children at my foundation — a little girl battling leukemia, just like Ella once did.
It was supposed to be about hope.
Not about the past clawing its way back into my life.
I'd been at the restaurant since early morning, making sure everything ran perfectly. The ivory dress I wore felt light, yet my chest felt unbearably tight.
Ella sat quietly at the corner of the room, just like I asked her to. A soft ribbon wrapped around her wrist. She smiled every time someone greeted her.
For a brief moment, I watched her — the child who became the reason I kept going.
If it weren't for her, I might've stopped believing in life long ago.
When the event started, I walked up to the stage. The microphone felt cold in my hand, but my smile stayed steady.
"Thank you all for being here tonight. Your presence isn't just a formality. It's about life — about hope that's still worth saving."
Applause filled the room.
I looked over the audience, silently thanking each person through my eyes.
But then — among the faces — my gaze stopped.
Brayden Roderigo.
My body stiffened.
It had been a week since I last saw him — since he vanished without a word after that unexpected encounter with Ella at the foundation.
I thought maybe that was how it was meant to be. But fate, it seemed, had a cruel sense of humor.
I quickly looked away.
No. I couldn't let myself falter.
I wasn't standing there as the woman who once begged him to stay.
I was standing here as Brianna Valencia — founder, mother, survivor. A woman who learned how to hold her head high even when her heart was breaking.
I kept talking as if he wasn't there.
As if his presence didn't make the air feel heavier.
But with every breath I took, I could feel his gaze — silent, steady, almost pleading.
When my speech ended, the reporters came rushing in, microphones and flashes everywhere.
I was used to it.
Questions poured in one after another.
Why hire people with disabilities?
Why start the foundation?
What inspired me?
I answered everything calmly, just as I'd trained myself to over the years.
"A few years ago, my daughter was diagnosed with leukemia.
In the hospital, I met so many parents who fought for their children but couldn't afford the treatment. That day, I made a promise — if God ever healed my daughter, I'd help the children who weren't as lucky."
My smile trembled slightly.
"Thankfully, Ella recovered. And that promise… I'm keeping it."
From the corner of my eye, I saw Brayden — silent, unmoving, his gaze fixed on me.
And I knew then: I wasn't ready to face him.
*****
The night went smoothly, until the guests began to leave.
I thanked each one politely, smiling despite my exhaustion — until something stopped me cold.
Ella.
Her chair was empty.
The small ribbon she'd been wearing… lay abandoned on the table.
My heart lurched.
I looked around, scanning every corner of the room.
"Ella?" I called out softly — no answer.
Panic clawed its way up my throat.
I turned to the staff, forcing my voice to stay steady. "Have you seen Ella? A little girl in a blue dress?"
They exchanged glances, confused, then shook their heads.
My knees almost gave out — until one of my employees, a sweet girl with Down syndrome, walked up to me, her expression calm and innocent.
"I saw Ella go with a guest," she said softly. "They went to the garden… over there."
I froze, then nodded quickly. "Thank you," I said, already rushing outside.
The night air bit at my skin as I ran across the yard — until I saw them.
Under the soft glow of the garden lights, Ella sat on a bench beside Brayden.
They were laughing.
Just… laughing.
It was a sight both beautiful and terrifying.
Something inside me trembled — a mix of fear, love, and the cruel ache of the past that refused to die.
I stood there for a few seconds, catching my breath, forcing calm into my voice before walking toward them.
"Ella, what are you doing here? I've been looking everywhere for you," I said, my tone trembling between relief and anger.
Ella turned to me, her eyes bright.
"Ella got bored, Mommy. So Ella came out with Uncle Ray! Look — he gave me this bracelet! Isn't it pretty?"
She held up a delicate silver bracelet.
I stared at it for too long before forcing a smile.
"Did you say thank you for the gift?" I asked gently.
Ella nodded proudly. "I did, Mommy. I said it right away."
"Good girl."
I knelt in front of her, brushing her cheek softly. "Now, can you help Mommy? There's still a lot to do inside."
"Okay, Mommy!" she chirped, then turned to Brayden. "Thank you, Uncle Ray! Let's talk again soon!"
Brayden smiled warmly. "You're welcome, Ella. I'd like that."
"Bye, Uncle Ray!" she waved before running off toward the restaurant.
And the moment she disappeared behind the doors…
the silence between us fell like glass.
*****
I looked down at my own wrist — at the old bracelet I used to wear — before I finally spoke.
"Mr. Roderigo," I began quietly, my voice calm but cold, "may I know where you bought that bracelet? I'd like to replace it."
Brayden met my eyes and shook his head.
"No need. It was a gift."
"A gift for what?" I asked, my tone low, wary.
He held my gaze, unflinching.
"For my daughter."
The words hit me like a storm.
I froze. "Your… daughter?"
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a brown envelope.
"This is the DNA test between me and Ella. The results are positive, Brianna. She's my blood."
My hands trembled as I took the envelope.
Each page I unfolded felt like a blade cutting through the years I'd tried so hard to survive.
The numbers blurred as tears filled my eyes.
"How could you do this without my permission?" I whispered, my voice shaking between anger and heartbreak.
"Because I needed to know," he said firmly. "And now I do — Ella is my daughter."
A bitter laugh escaped my throat. "So what now? You plan to take her away from me?"
Brayden shook his head slowly. "No. I would never take Ella from you. I just… want to know her. To be part of her life."
I closed my eyes, fighting back the sob that clawed at my chest.
"Do you have any idea how hard it was to raise her alone? With no one to lean on? Without you?"
"I know… and I'm sorry," his voice softened, cracking with guilt. "I didn't know she existed, Brianna. You never told me."
I looked up at him — tears, anger, exhaustion — all spilling at once.
"You think I didn't want to? You once told your friend you'd never want a child from a forced engagement. I heard you, Brayden. I heard every word."
He fell silent.
Maybe realizing too late that his careless words years ago had destroyed something that could never be rebuilt.
I took a shaky breath and stood.
"I need to go back inside. There's still work to do."
My steps felt heavy, but I forced myself to walk away.
"Thank you… for the bracelet," I whispered before leaving.
Behind me, I could still feel his gaze — quiet, regretful, and far too late.
And for the first time that night, I realized…
the truth I'd buried for so long had finally found a way to surface.
I just wasn't ready to see what would happen once it did.
I used to think the truth would save me. But maybe, some truths come only to remind you how fragile survival really is.