HEARTFILIA'S POV
It was quiet, though even that wasn't enough to soothe my chest, which seemed to tighten further with each passing hour. I was inside our "secret place"—an old greenhouse on the property of our expansive family estate. At one time, it had been where we hid whenever we wanted to escape trouble. This was where we played, laughed, and kept sisterly secrets.
But now?
The place which once was home for laughter… now felt like a pit of dread.
My grip tightened on the edge of the plant stand, waiting for Amaryllis to arrive. She texted me earlier:
"We need to talk. Secret place. Now."
No emoji. No explanation. I knew this wasn't good.
I was not expecting the heavy sound of her footsteps as she came in. Loud. Solid. Determined. Amaryllis—my strong, bossy, unstoppable older sister.
But now, she was visibly triggered.
The door shut with a sickly strong force.
"Filia."
Just one word, but it felt like a slap.
I looked up. "A-Ate…"
She came to me slowly, but in each step, there was tension. Her eyes were sharp; I couldn't tell if she was angry or disappointed, or both.
"What did you do?" she asked directly, no preamble.
A chill ran through me. "A-Ate."
"Don't call me 'Ate' right now, just answer me."
I swallowed. "I didn't do anyth—"
"Don't lie to me." It was the same tone as our father, but it hurt more because it came from her.
"I already know what happened between you and Jharied." Direct. No brakes.
It felt like all the blood drained onto the floor. My knees actually buckled.
"Ate… I didn't—I didn't want it to happen—"
"So it HAPPENED." It wasn't a question anymore. It was confirmation.
My chest constricted, and I couldn't breathe. I didn't know what to say.
"Ate, please… I didn't mean to—"
"Why?" The question came quick, hard, painful.
"Why, Filia?!" she shouted. "Why did you give in?!"
My throat ached. "I didn't mean to. I don't even know why—
"You don't know why?" she laughed bitterly. "You don't know why? Filia, you're smarter than that. You should know better."
"Jharied didn't force me—"
"SO YOU DID IT WILLINGLY?"
It felt like I was being stabbed repeatedly.
"Ate, it's not like that—"
She walked closer, till we were almost touching.
"You had ONE job, Filia." Every word in her utterance was like a shard of glass poking at my soul.
"One. Job."
I closed my eyes tightly.
"You were supposed to pretend." Slow. Cold. Terrifying.
"Pretend to be his wife, pretend to stand beside him, pretend to be part of our plan." She firmly shook her head.
"You weren't supposed to sleep with him."
The tears fell, and I couldn't stop them. "I didn't want that to happen—"
"But you let it happen." Her comment was like a knife angled into my wound.
"Did you want it?" she asked, softer but full of blame.
"NO!" I screamed. "I didn't want that! Ate, I—I was confused, pressured—"
"You know what's worse?" she asked, her voice quivering with frustration. "I didn't even underestimate you. I trusted you. I thought you could commit to your role."
"Ate… I—"
"You can pretend." Heavy.
"You can act." Heavier.
"You can be the SUBSTITUTE."
And that's when I completely shattered.
"Ate…" I pleaded, almost a whisper. "Don't be like that…"
"Don't be what?" She laughed, but without joy. "Don't shove the truth in your face?"
She leaned forward, closing the gap between us.
"Filia, you are NOT his wife." She looked straight into my eyes.
"You were never his wife."
"You should never have reached any intimacy."
"You're just a stand-in. A replacement."
"Substitute wife."
And then my tears streamed down my cheeks, fast, one after the other, as if I could no longer hold them back.
"Ate… you're going too far…" I whispered.
"I haven't even started," she shot back. "Filia, you agreed to this arrangement. I didn't force you. Dad didn't force you. You were the one who said you could handle it."
She smirked bitterly.
"And now, what? You're going to ruin the plan because of one night? Because you lost control?
"I didn't—"
"Then what happened?!" she yelled, "Explain!"
I couldn't say it. I couldn't recount it. I couldn't admit that I was humiliated, afraid, confused, and that I made a mistake. I didn't want to admit that part of me accidentally sought comfort from the wrong person. I didn't want to hear it from her mouth either.
"Ate, you don't understand…" I whispered, trembling.
"Then make me understand.
"Because you don't know everything," I replied, crying now.
"Because you REFUSE to tell me!" she snapped.
I recoiled.
"Filia, I'm your sister! I'm supposed to protect you! But how can I protect you if you're the one destroying yourself?!"
"I'm not destroying myself!" I couldn't stop it. It was a shout. It came out sudden. Painful. Full of hurt.
"Yes, you are," she insisted, harshly. "And worse, you're also ruining the family plan. And my position. My role."
"ROLE?!" I shouted back, my vision darkening with pain.
"So it's about you?" My anger. My hurt.
Laughing yet with tears in the corner of her eyes, she turned away.
"No, Filia, it's always been about YOU." A whisper, but heavy.
"You always get the privilege of being protected. Fought for. Prioritized. Even though you're the most fragile of us both."
"Ate…" my chest grew heavier.
"And now that it's your turn to do the right thing," she continued. "You can't just rely on everything being okay no matter what mistake you make."
I could stand it no longer.
"You know, Ate?" I said straight to her face, shaking but firm. "You don't know how I feel. You don't know my fear. You don't know my pressure. You don't know what I'm going through with Dad."
She looked up; her expression changed.
"Don't bring Dad into this," she warned coldly.
"Why not?" I said. "He's part of it! All of this is because of—"
"STOP." She yelled louder than before. "Don't you dare blame him."
"Why not?" I said quickly. "He's the root of everything."
"Filia, don't drag him into this just to escape what you did."
"I no dey run! I just dey talk true!"
"Your truth is not an excuse," she replied.
"And your truth is not the only truth!" I shouted back.
It felt as though the air exploded between us.
We were both angry, we were both hurt, we were both full of resentment.
"And no matter what you say, Ate…" my chest stiffened, but I said it anyway, "I am not a rag doll. I am not a toy. I am not a puppet. And I am NOT a substitute."
She laughed bitterly.
"Really? Then what are you? Huh? What are you in the plan, Filia? If not a substitute, what are you?"
I couldn't answer.
One tear fell. A fragment of defeat.
And she finished it:
"You're not his wife. I am." Slow. Painful. Tearing at my very being.
"So don't you dare forget your place."
My entire body went rigid. I didn't know what hurt more-her words, or the fact that they were true in her eyes.
She walked away, annoyed, angry, yet visibly hurt at the same time. And before she left the greenhouse, she gave me one last look.
"Filia," she said coldly, "it is alright for a person to make a mistake… but you cannot repeat that mistake. You cannot forget who you are." She left. Leaving me shattered.
Leaving me grasping for air. Leaving me to question myself— For me, the question remains: Who am I amidst all of this? And how much of the burden I never started can I still carry?
----
To be continued.