Work Text:
Prologue
“Hindi ka iiyak bukas?”
Colet looked up from where she was sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, one knee raised, her suit jacket for tomorrow hanging neatly by the closet door. It was past midnight already, technically their wedding day, but Jhoanna had insisted on seeing her “for five minutes lang” before they followed the old tradition of not seeing each other before the ceremony.
Five minutes became thirty.
Thirty became Jhoanna sitting cross-legged on Colet’s bed, wearing an oversized hoodie, her hair tied messily, face bare, smile too pretty for Colet’s peace of mind.
Colet scoffed. “Bakit ako iiyak?”
Jhoanna’s brows rose. “Ay, wow.”
“What?”
“Wala. Maangas ka pala.”
“Pala?” Colet pointed at herself. “Love, maangas ako since birth.”
Jhoanna laughed, the kind of laugh Colet had fallen in love with years ago. The kind that started soft then bloomed into something that filled the whole room, the whole world, every empty space inside Colet’s chest.
“Okay, Mrs. Maangas,” Jhoanna teased. “So bukas, pag naglalakad na ako sa aisle, poker face ka lang?”
“Of course.”
“Hindi mangingilid luha?”
“Nope.”
“Hindi mamumula ilong?”
“Hindi.”
“Hindi magkukunwaring may puwing?”
Colet narrowed her eyes. “Grabe ka naman sa akin.”
Jhoanna leaned closer, chin resting on her palm. “I know you, Colet Vergara.”
“Hindi mo ako kilala.”
“I know you better than anyone.”
That made Colet quiet.
Because that was true.
Jhoanna knew the version of her that laughed too loud when she was nervous. The version that pretended not to care, only to overthink everything later at 2 AM. The version that hated saying sorry but would silently show up with food, medicine, and a carefully folded apology note. The version that used angas like armor until Jhoanna came along and started undoing the straps one by one.
Jhoanna crawled closer on the bed and gently poked Colet’s cheek.
“Pag umiyak ka bukas,” she whispered, “hindi kita aasarin.”
“Sinungaling.”
Jhoanna grinned. “Konti lang.”
Colet rolled her eyes, but she caught Jhoanna’s hand before it could pull away. She pressed a kiss to her knuckles, lingering there longer than necessary.
Tomorrow, this woman would become her wife.
Her wife.
The thought still made her chest ache.
“Love,” Jhoanna said softly.
“Hm?”
“Kinakabahan ka?”
Colet stared at their joined hands. Jhoanna’s engagement ring caught the warm hotel light, the stone glinting like it knew something holy was coming.
“Hindi sa kasal,” Colet admitted.
“Then saan?”
Colet swallowed. “Sa feeling.”
Jhoanna’s teasing smile softened.
“Ang bigat,” Colet continued, voice lower now. “Pero in a good way. Parang… I spent my whole life pretending I didn’t need anyone. Tapos bukas, I’m going to stand in front of everyone and say, actually, I need you. I choose you. I’ll keep choosing you.”
Jhoanna’s eyes turned glassy.
“Hoy,” Colet warned. “Bawal umiyak. Ikaw yung mang-aasar, di ba?”
Jhoanna laughed through the emotion and leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Colet’s.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Colet closed her eyes.
There were a thousand things she could say.
I loved you when I was scared.
I loved you when I didn’t know how.
I loved you before I deserved you.
I loved you even when I thought loving you would ruin me.
I loved you on every page.
But all she said was, “I love you too.”
Jhoanna kissed her softly.
It wasn’t their first kiss. Not even close. But it felt like one of those kisses that carried all the other ones inside it—the nervous first, the desperate make-up kisses, the sleepy morning ones, the quick goodbye kisses by the door, the laughing ones in the kitchen, the quiet ones that meant stay.
When Jhoanna finally pulled away, she smiled.
“See you sa altar, Mrs. Maangas.”
Colet smirked. “See you, future Mrs. Vergara.”
Jhoanna stood, walking backward toward the door, still smiling at her like she was already walking down an aisle.
Then, just before leaving, she added, “Sure ka talaga hindi ka iiyak?”
Colet threw a pillow at her.
Jhoanna dodged it, laughing as she slipped out of the room.
When the door clicked shut, Colet sat there in the silence, hand still warm from where Jhoanna had held it.
She looked at the suit hanging by the closet.
Then at the wedding vows folded neatly on the bedside table.
Then at the closed door.
And for some stupid, ridiculous, completely unfair reason—
Colet’s eyes burned.
“Shit,” she muttered, wiping quickly at her face. “Bukas pa dapat ‘to.”
Wedding Day
Colet did not cry when she woke up.
That was important.
She did not cry while getting dressed, even when Mikha fixed her collar and said, “Pogi mo today boss, ah. Parang may papakasalan.”
She did not cry when Gwen handed her the boutonniere and accidentally whispered, “Grabe, ikakasal na baby namin.”
She did not cry when Sheena barged into the room with the energy of a panicked production manager, yelling, “Ate Colet, please lang, huwag kang gagalaw, ang ganda ng ayos mo!”
She did not cry when Maloi hugged her from the side and said, “Deserve mo ‘to.”
She almost cried then.
Almost.
But she recovered.
Because Colet Vergara was composed.
Colet Vergara was steady.
Colet Vergara was maangas.
And then the ceremony started.
The garden venue in Tagaytay looked like something out of a memory: white flowers, soft sunlight, the lake in the distance, the sky wide and blue above them. Their closest friends and family filled the rows of chairs, all smiling, all waiting.
Colet stood at the altar in a cream suit, hands clasped in front of her, jaw tight from trying to look normal.
Beside her, Mikha leaned in slightly.
“Relax ka lang.”
“Relaxed ako.”
“Mukha ka na ngang hindi humihinga.”
“Shut up.”
Mikha snorted.
Colet inhaled slowly.
She was fine.
She had survived worse things than this. First dates. First fights. Meeting Jhoanna’s family. Asking for her parents’ blessing. Planning a wedding with Jhoanna Christine Robles, who had opinions about every napkin shade known to mankind.
She could survive standing here.
She could survive waiting.
Then the music began.
The first notes of “Turning Page” filled the garden.
And Colet forgot how to breathe.
The guests stood.
Everyone turned.
Colet’s fingers tightened around each other.
At the far end of the aisle, the doors opened.
And there she was.
Jhoanna.
In white.
The world did not stop.
That would be too simple.
No, the world kept moving, the flowers swayed, the music played, people whispered, cameras clicked, the wind touched the veil falling softly behind Jhoanna’s shoulders.
But Colet stopped.
Everything inside her did.
Jhoanna stood at the beginning of the aisle with her arm linked through her father’s, bouquet held gently in front of her. Her dress was simple and elegant, the kind that didn’t try too hard because Jhoanna never needed to. Her smile trembled the moment her eyes found Colet.
Colet’s chest caved in.
Hindi ako iiyak, she reminded herself.
Jhoanna took her first step.
And suddenly, Colet was nineteen again.
⸻
The first time Colet met Jhoanna, she was late.
Not fashionably late.
Disrespectfully late.
She entered the student council meeting fifteen minutes after it started, wearing a varsity jacket over her uniform, hair slightly messy, expression bored enough to offend everyone in the room.
At the front, Jhoanna Robles stopped mid-sentence.
She was the student council president. Top of the class. Clean ponytail. Neatly pressed blouse. Eyes sharp enough to cut through Colet’s entire reputation.
“Nice of you to join us, Vergara,” Jhoanna said.
Colet smirked. “Na-traffic, Pres.”
“You live ten minutes away.”
“Grabe, updated ka sa akin?”
A few students laughed.
Jhoanna did not.
She only looked at Colet like she was a problem on the board waiting to be solved.
“Sit down,” Jhoanna said.
Colet dropped into the nearest chair, still smirking.
She thought Jhoanna was too stiff. Too perfect. Too serious.
Then Jhoanna turned back to the meeting, spoke with confidence, handled everyone with ease, and somehow made the whole room listen.
Colet stopped smirking.
By the end of the hour, she hated one thing with absolute certainty.
Jhoanna Robles was interesting.
And Colet Vergara was in trouble.
⸻
Jhoanna took another step down the aisle.
Present-day Colet blinked hard.
Her eyes were already wet.
Mikha made a tiny choking sound beside her.
Colet whispered, “Wag kang umimik.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Mikhs, yung mukha mo napaka-judgmental.”
“Baliw.”
But Colet couldn’t look away from Jhoanna.
Another step.
Another memory.
⸻
Their first real conversation happened during a school outreach event in Quezon City.
Colet had been assigned to carry boxes of donated books. Jhoanna had been assigned to oversee the whole thing, which basically meant she spent the entire afternoon telling people where to go.
Including Colet.
“Vergara, doon sa left.”
“Vergara, careful.”
“Vergara, hindi ‘yan basketball, huwag mong ihagis.”
“Vergara—”
Colet finally dropped the box on the table and turned to her. “Miss President, may first name ako.”
Jhoanna crossed her arms. “Do you respond to it?”
“Depends kung sino tumatawag.”
“Fine. Colet.”
Something stupid happened to Colet’s chest.
She ignored it.
“Again,” Colet said.
Jhoanna blinked. “What?”
“Nothing. Ang pangit pala pakinggan.”
Jhoanna’s eyes narrowed. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet you keep calling me.”
“I’m responsible for coordinating.”
“Sure.”
Jhoanna exhaled, annoyed. Then she tucked loose hair behind her ear, and Colet noticed the tiny moles above her lip.
Two small marks.
Barely there.
Impossible not to stare at.
“What?” Jhoanna asked.
Colet looked away too fast. “Nothing.”
For the first time that afternoon, Jhoanna smiled.
Not the polite one.
Not the president one.
A real one.
“Ang weird mo.”
Colet laughed before she could stop herself.
And that was it.
That was the first page turning.
⸻
Jhoanna continued walking.
Slowly.
Too slowly.
Not slow enough.
Colet wanted to run to her. Wanted to close the distance because waiting suddenly felt like punishment. But she stayed where she was, hands trembling now, throat tight.
Jhoanna saw it.
Even from where she was, she saw everything.
Her smile widened, soft and knowing.
“Huli ka”, her eyes seemed to say.
Colet’s lips trembled.
“Shut up”, her heart answered.
⸻
Their first kiss happened on a rainy night.
Of course it did.
Because apparently, the universe had a flair for drama.
They were stuck under the covered walkway outside a convenience store, both drenched from trying and failing to outrun the downpour. Jhoanna was laughing, hair wet, cheeks flushed, one hand pressed over her mouth like she couldn’t believe how ridiculous they looked.
Colet stared at her.
That was becoming a problem.
Jhoanna caught her.
“What?”
Colet shook her head. “Nothing.”
“You always say nothing when it’s something.”
“You always notice.”
Jhoanna’s laughter faded.
The rain hit the pavement hard around them, loud enough to hide the way Colet’s breath changed.
Jhoanna stepped closer.
“Colet.”
There it was again.
Her name, but different when Jhoanna said it. Softer. Braver.
Colet swallowed. “Don’t say my name like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m going to do something stupid.”
Jhoanna’s eyes dropped to her mouth.
“Are you?”
Colet should have made a joke.
She should have looked away.
She should have remembered every reason why falling for Jhoanna Robles was dangerous.
Instead, she whispered, “Probably.”
Then she kissed her.
It was gentle at first.
A question.
A confession.
A mistake they both wanted to make.
Then Jhoanna kissed her back, fingers curling into the front of Colet’s soaked jacket, and Colet felt something inside her give way.
Like a door opening.
Like a page turning.
Like every version of her before that kiss had been waiting for this one.
When they pulled apart, Jhoanna was breathless.
Colet was ruined.
Jhoanna whispered, “That was stupid.”
Colet nodded. “Yeah.”
Then Jhoanna smiled.
“Do it again.”
So Colet did.
⸻
At the altar, Colet let out a shaky breath.
A tear slipped.
Just one.
Traitor.
Mikha saw it immediately.
“Oh my God.”
“Not a word.”
“You’re crying.”
“I’m not.”
“Bro, you are literally leaking.”
Colet wiped her cheek quickly. “Boang, napuwing lang ako.”
Mikha had to bite her lip to stop laughing.
But the second tear came faster.
Then the third.
And Jhoanna was still walking.
Still glowing.
Still carrying their whole story toward her.
⸻
Their first fight happened months after they became something they still refused to name.
It started small.
Most terrible fights did.
Colet forgot to show up to one of Jhoanna’s events.
Not because she didn’t care.
Because she cared too much.
Because she had overheard someone say Jhoanna was “too good” for her, that Colet would only drag her down, that girls like Jhoanna didn’t end up with girls like Colet.
And Colet, idiot that she was, believed them.
So she pulled away.
Missed calls.
Short replies.
Excuses.
Until Jhoanna finally cornered her outside the gym, eyes red, voice shaking with anger.
“Kung ayaw mo na, sabihin mo.”
Colet stiffened. “Jho—”
“No. Don’t Jho me.” Jhoanna’s hands were trembling. “I can handle you being scared. I can handle you being confused. Pero hindi ko kaya yung pinaparamdam mo sa akin na parang ako lang yung nandito.”
Colet looked away.
“Colet,” Jhoanna said, softer now, and somehow worse. “Did I do something wrong?”
That broke her.
“No,” Colet said immediately. “No. God, no.”
“Then why are you leaving before I even get to choose you?”
Colet didn’t have an answer.
Or maybe she did, but it was ugly.
Because I’m scared you’ll realize I’m not enough.
Because I don’t know how to be loved without waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Because you make me want a future and I don’t trust myself not to ruin it.
Instead, Colet whispered, “I’m not good for you.”
Jhoanna stared at her.
Then she laughed once, humorless and hurt.
“Don’t you dare decide that for me.”
Colet’s eyes burned.
Jhoanna stepped closer, voice cracking. “You don’t get to hurt me and call it protection.”
That sentence stayed with Colet for the rest of her life.
Because it was the first time someone loved her enough to call her out.
The first time someone stayed, not because Colet made it easy, but because Jhoanna believed she was worth the hard conversation.
That night, Colet apologized.
Awkwardly.
Messily.
With a paper bag full of Jhoanna’s favorite snacks and a handwritten note that started with:
I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.
Jhoanna read the note.
Then looked at the snacks.
Then looked at Colet.
“Alam mo ang tanga mo.”
Colet blinked. “Alam ko and I’m sorry.”
“Hinalikan mo na nga ako tapos sasabihin mong I am not good for you? Halika na nga dito.”
Colet laughed through her tears.
Jhoanna did too.
And when Jhoanna hugged her, Colet held on like someone finally taught her that love did not always leave when things got hard.
⸻
Jhoanna was halfway down the aisle now.
Colet’s vision blurred.
She remembered becoming official.
Not with grand gestures.
Not with fireworks.
But in Jhoanna’s tiny apartment, with rain tapping against the windows, takeout boxes on the coffee table, and Jhoanna wearing Colet’s hoodie like she had always belonged in it.
They were watching a movie neither of them cared about.
Colet had been pretending not to stare.
Jhoanna had been pretending not to notice.
Then Jhoanna suddenly paused the movie and said, “Ano ba tayo?”
Colet froze with a piece of siomai halfway to her mouth.
“Huh?”
Jhoanna turned to her. “Ano. Ba. Tayo.”
“Humans?”
“Colet.”
“Filipinos?”
“Colet.”
“Taxpayers?”
Jhoanna threw a pillow at her.
Colet caught it, laughing nervously. “Okay, okay.”
Jhoanna crossed her arms, but her eyes were scared.
That sobered Colet.
She set the pillow down.
Then the siomai.
Then she faced Jhoanna fully.
“I want to be yours,” Colet said, voice quiet.
Jhoanna’s expression softened.
Colet swallowed. “Officially. Publicly. Privately. Kahit saan. Kahit kanino. I want to be your girlfriend. Kung papayag ka.”
Jhoanna stared at her for a second.
Then two.
Then her lips curved.
“Ang haba naman ng yes or no question ko.”
Colet groaned. “Jhoanna.”
“Yes,” Jhoanna whispered.
Colet blinked. “Yes?”
“Yes, girlfriend.”
Colet tried to act cool.
She failed.
She smiled so hard her cheeks hurt, and Jhoanna laughed before crawling into her lap and kissing her until the movie timed out on its own.
That night, Jhoanna fell asleep against her shoulder.
Colet stayed awake longer than she needed to, staring at the ceiling, one hand resting on Jhoanna’s back.
She had been called many things in her life.
Trouble.
Cocky.
Difficult.
Too much.
Not enough.
But that night, for the first time, she was called Jhoanna’s.
And it became her favorite name.
⸻
The music swelled around them.
Jhoanna’s father was crying now.
So was Sheena.
So was Gwen.
Maloi had given up and was holding tissues in both hands.
Colet, despite all her promises, was absolutely crying now.
Not pretty crying either.
Her face had given up on dignity.
Her jaw trembled. Her eyes were red. Her nose was definitely betraying her.
Somewhere in the second row, she heard Sheena whisper, “Sabi na iiyak ‘yan eh.”
Colet would fight her later.
Maybe.
After marrying the love of her life.
⸻
The proposal had not gone according to plan.
Colet had planned everything.
A private dinner in Tagaytay.
Candles.
Flowers.
A hidden photographer.
A speech she had practiced for three weeks and rewritten fourteen times.
Unfortunately, Jhoanna knew her too well.
The moment they arrived at the restaurant and Jhoanna saw the nervous way Colet kept touching her pocket, she narrowed her eyes.
“May ginawa ka.”
Colet almost choked. “Wala.”
“Meron.”
“Wala nga.”
“Colet.”
“Jhoanna.”
“Are you proposing?”
Colet stared at her.
Jhoanna stared back.
The waiter slowly backed away.
Colet closed her eyes. “Oh my God.”
Jhoanna gasped. “You are!”
“Jho, hindi na tuloy surprise!”
“Sorry!”
“You ruined it!”
“Sorry na babe, mukha ka kasing aatakihin eh!”
“Because I’m nervous!”
Jhoanna’s face softened so suddenly that Colet lost all her anger.
“You’re nervous?” she whispered.
Colet looked away, ears burning. “Obviously.”
“Why?”
Colet laughed weakly. “Because I’m about to ask the best person I know to spend forever with me, and even though I know you love me, there’s still this part of me that can’t believe I get to have this.”
Jhoanna’s eyes filled with tears.
Colet exhaled.
Then, because the plan was already ruined anyway, she knelt right there beside their table.
Jhoanna covered her mouth.
The restaurant went silent.
Colet pulled out the ring box with shaking hands.
“I had a speech,” Colet said.
Jhoanna laughed through her tears. “Of course you did.”
“But I forgot it.”
“That’s okay.”
“No, it was really good.”
“I’m sure.”
Colet opened the box.
Her own tears blurred the ring.
“I don’t know how to promise perfect,” Colet said. “Hindi ako perfect. Ang dami kong sablay. Ang dami kong takot. But I know how to choose. And I choose you. Every day. Kahit mahirap. Kahit scary. Kahit hindi ko alam ginagawa ko. I choose you, Jhoanna Christine Robles.”
Jhoanna was crying openly now.
Colet swallowed.
“Will you marry me?”
Jhoanna nodded before Colet even finished asking.
“Yes,” she said, laughing and sobbing at the same time. “Yes, oh my God, yes.”
Colet barely managed to slide the ring onto her finger before Jhoanna pulled her up and kissed her in front of everyone.
The restaurant applauded.
Colet cried.
Jhoanna teased her for crying.
Then cried harder than her.
It was perfect.
Not because it went according to plan.
But because it was theirs.
⸻
Engagement looked like Jhoanna arguing about flower arrangements.
It looked like Colet pretending not to care about cake flavors, then becoming strangely passionate about ube.
It looked like late nights with spreadsheets, seating charts, and Jhoanna falling asleep with her head on Colet’s lap.
It looked like choosing a first dance song.
Jhoanna had played “Turning Page” one night while they sat on the floor of their living room, surrounded by invitation samples.
Colet had gone quiet.
Jhoanna looked up. “This one?”
Colet listened.
Not to the lyrics exactly.
To the feeling.
The tenderness.
The patience.
The way the song sounded like someone looking back at everything they survived and realizing love had been there, waiting, becoming, unfolding.
Colet reached for Jhoanna’s hand.
“This one,” she said.
Jhoanna smiled. “Sure?”
Colet nodded.
“Why?”
Colet looked at her.
Because every page of my life before you felt unfinished.
Because you made me want to read the rest.
Because you are the sentence I kept looking for.
Instead, Colet shrugged. “Maganda.”
Jhoanna rolled her eyes. “Ang profound mo talaga.”
But she leaned over and kissed Colet anyway.
⸻
Now, in the garden, that same song carried Jhoanna closer.
Step by step.
Memory by memory.
Until finally, she reached the end of the aisle.
Her father kissed her cheek, then placed her hand in Colet’s.
Colet looked down at their hands.
Jhoanna’s fingers slipped into hers like they had done it in every lifetime.
Then Colet looked up.
Jhoanna was crying too, but she was smiling.
“Hi,” Jhoanna whispered.
Colet tried to answer.
Nothing came out.
Jhoanna’s smile widened.
“Mrs. Maangas,” she whispered, low enough only Colet could hear. “Umiiyak ka.”
Colet let out a broken laugh, wiping uselessly at her face.
“Hindi,” she whispered back. “Allergies lang ‘to.”
Jhoanna squeezed her hand.
“To marriage?”
Colet shook her head, smiling through tears.
“To you.”
Jhoanna’s face crumpled for half a second, and Colet knew she’d gotten her back.
Good.
They stood facing each other as the officiant began, but Colet heard only pieces of it.
Love.
Commitment.
Witnesses.
Forever.
Her whole attention was on Jhoanna’s hand in hers, on the way Jhoanna’s thumb brushed over her knuckles, grounding her, loving her, choosing her.
When it was time for vows, Colet unfolded the paper she had carried all morning.
It shook in her hands.
Jhoanna saw.
Of course she did.
She reached up and steadied the paper with one hand.
Everyone laughed softly.
Colet laughed too.
Then she looked at Jhoanna.
And suddenly, she didn’t need the paper.
“Jhoanna,” Colet began, voice rough.
Jhoanna’s eyes softened.
“I used to think love was something that happened to other people. Yung mga taong marunong maging soft. Marunong magtiwala. Marunong hindi tumakbo kapag natatakot.”
A tear slipped down Jhoanna’s cheek.
“Then I met you,” Colet said. “And you annoyed me so much.”
The guests laughed.
Jhoanna rolled her eyes through tears.
Colet smiled.
“You annoyed me because you saw through me. You saw every wall, every joke, every excuse. You saw the parts of me I kept hidden because I thought they were too messy to love.”
Her voice broke slightly.
“And you loved me anyway.”
Jhoanna pressed her lips together.
Colet inhaled shakily.
“You taught me that love is not just the easy days. It’s not just kilig. It’s not just first kisses in the rain or late-night drives or dancing in the kitchen. Love is staying for the hard conversations. Love is choosing each other when pride is easier. Love is learning how to say sorry. Love is letting someone know you fully and trusting they won’t leave.”
Colet wiped her cheek quickly, but more tears followed.
“I have loved many versions of you,” she continued. “The president who scared me. The girl who called me out. The girlfriend who stole my hoodies. The fiancée who ruined my proposal. The woman standing in front of me now.”
Jhoanna laughed, crying harder.
“And I promise to love every version still to come,” Colet said. “Your tired days. Your sungit days. Your loud, chaotic, bossy days.”
“Excuse me,” Jhoanna whispered.
“Your beautiful days,” Colet added softly. “Which is every day.”
Jhoanna’s teasing expression crumbled.
Colet squeezed her hand.
“I don’t know what every page after this looks like,” Colet said. “But I know I want to read all of them with you. I want the boring mornings. The hard nights. The bills. The groceries. The fights about aircon temperature. The future kids or dogs or whatever chaos we decide to adopt. I want gray hair with you. I want old jokes. I want the same hand in mine when the world changes.”
Her voice dropped.
“I want this life, because it’s with you.”
Jhoanna was fully crying now.
Colet smiled.
“So, Jhoanna Christine Robles,” she whispered, “thank you for finding me on the first page. Thank you for staying through the messy chapters. Thank you for becoming my favorite ending and my best beginning.”
She took a breath.
“I love you. I choose you. I’ll keep choosing you. Always.”
By the time she finished, half the guests were crying.
Mikha was pretending not to.
Badly.
Jhoanna wiped her cheeks, then took her own vows from Sheena.
She looked at the paper.
Then at Colet.
Then she laughed softly and folded it again.
Colet’s brows rose.
Jhoanna shrugged. “Ikaw lang ba marunong mag-improvise?”
The guests laughed.
Colet shook her head, crying and smiling like an idiot.
Jhoanna held both of Colet’s hands.
“Colet,” she began, voice trembling but sure. “You were the plot twist I didn’t ask for.”
Colet laughed.
“You came into my life late, smug, mayabang, allergic sa instructions—”
“Grabe.”
“—and somehow, you became the person I looked for in every room.”
Colet went still.
Jhoanna’s smile softened.
“I used to think love had to be perfect to be real. Then you came along and showed me love can be messy and stubborn and scared, but still honest. Still worth it.”
She stepped closer.
“You are not easy to love all the time.”
Colet nodded. “Fair.”
“But loving you has always been easy for me,” Jhoanna whispered. “Even when I was mad. Even when I was scared. Even when you pushed me away. There was always this part of me that knew… ikaw. Ikaw pa rin.”
Colet’s lips trembled again.
Jhoanna squeezed her hands.
“You are my favorite person. My safest place. My biggest headache.”
The guests laughed.
“My softest landing,” Jhoanna continued. “My answered prayer in the most unexpected form. And I promise to keep choosing you too. Not just when it’s beautiful. Not just when it’s easy. But especially when it’s ordinary. Especially when it’s hard. Especially when you forget that you deserve to be loved, because I will remind you. Again and again.”
Colet bowed her head, crying openly now.
Jhoanna reached up and wiped her tears with her thumb.
“Maangas ka pa niyan?” she whispered.
Colet laughed wetly. “Shut up.”
Jhoanna smiled.
“I love you, Colet Vergara. On every page. In every chapter. In this life, and whatever comes after.”
The officiant cleared his throat like he, too, needed a second.
Then came the rings.
Then the final words.
Then the moment.
“You may now kiss your bride.”
Colet barely waited.
She stepped forward, cupped Jhoanna’s face, and kissed her.
The garden erupted.
Cheers.
Applause.
Laughter.
Someone wolf-whistled.
Jhoanna smiled against her mouth, arms wrapping around Colet’s neck.
Colet kissed her like a promise.
Like a memory.
Like a beginning.
When they pulled apart, Jhoanna rested her forehead against Colet’s.
“Hi, wife,” she whispered.
Colet’s heart folded in half.
“Hi, wife.”
Jhoanna grinned. “You cried like a baby.”
Colet sniffed. “Sabi mo hindi mo ko aasarin?”
“I said konti lang.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“You married me anyway?”
Colet looked at her, this woman, this miracle, this walking proof that every painful page had still been leading somewhere beautiful.
Then she smiled.
“Yes. Best decision of my life.”
Jhoanna’s eyes softened all over again.
As they turned to face their family and friends, hands locked together, the music still playing around them, Colet finally understood something.
Love had not changed her all at once.
It had turned her slowly.
Page by page.
A late entrance.
A first smile.
A rainy kiss.
A fight that taught her not to run.
A girlfriend who stayed.
A proposal ruined and made better.
A wedding song.
A bride walking toward her.
A hand in hers.
A forever beginning.
And beside her, Jhoanna squeezed her hand like she knew exactly what Colet was thinking.
Of course she did.
She always knew.
Colet looked at their joined hands, then at the aisle ahead.
For once, she wasn’t afraid of the next page.
Because whatever came after this, she would not be reading it alone.
She had Jhoanna.
Her wife.
Her home.
Her favorite beginning.
And every page after this would be theirs.