Solene's POV
After hours of crying, she finally managed to sleep.
I heard her breathing shift—deeper, heavier, like her body had finally given up the fight she refused to surrender to all day.
Mom tucked her in, as usual.
If there's one person who's been silently standing guard on the sidelines of Rain's life—whether her decisions were right, wrong, reckless, or brave—it was Mom.
Their bond had only grown stronger, even with an ocean in between. From the moment Rain stepped foot in Germany to be near Kai, to dropping out of NYU just weeks before her acceptance, to almost missing her major exams in New York because she flew in from Spain just to attend Kai's oath-taking in Berlin—Mom was there. She was the one comforting her through every breakdown. The one who never judged, only listened. Only held her.
You know, Rain used to be top of the class back in high school. Everyone looked up to her—Mayor's daughter, the golden girl, the queen of straight A's.
But somewhere along the way, she lost herself. In the process of loving Kai, she disappeared into the shadows of someone else's light.
And the worst part? Kai doesn't even know.
Doesn't know how Rain followed her from continent to continent like a quiet ghost, cheering silently at every win, mourning every loss from the back row, never once asking for a seat beside her.
I know all this because I was there—across oceans, through Facetime, in every drunken rant and tearful midnight call.
I listened when Rain said she couldn't breathe in New York. That she felt dead inside, walking hospital halls and pretending she was okay. I was there when she finally whispered, "Solene, hindi ko kaya. I need to see her, even if she doesn't see me."
So she left.
Dropped out.
Moved to Berlin.
She told no one, except me and Mom. Tita Celeste? She found out eventually. And when she did, she cut Rain off—just like that. No more money. No more support. Not even a call on her birthday.
It was brutal.
Ate Riley tried to help—sent a few euros here and there when she could—but it was barely enough to cover rent.
Rain worked café jobs, language tutoring, even folded flyers on street corners when no one was hiring. For two years.
And still, not once did she complain. Because being near Kai—even from a distance—was worth the hell.
To be honest? I admired her.
But somewhere along the way, I started to hate it too.
Hate how she relentlessly loved someone who had no idea how much she gave up. How much she suffered just to be near.
I hated it because she made herself small for someone who once held her like she was the world.
She loved Kai in silence.
And that silence devoured her.
Even when Rain finally decided to become the daughter they wanted her to be—it shattered her.
The pressure, the guilt, the grief of giving up the life she wanted just to make peace with the one expected of her—it all crushed her slowly, like waves over a drowning girl.
But even then, she never gave up on Kai.
She clawed her way back up—worked her ass off, every day, every sleepless night, just to catch up with med school. While everyone else partied, Rain studied with feverish determination. Not because she wanted the title. But because she wanted to deserve the life she left behind. To someday look Kai in the eyes and say: I made it too.
And through it all, she still followed Kai.
Every published paper. Every symposium talk. Every award, every headline.
She knew Kai's schedule better than her own.
There was no Instagram post. No official announcement. But Rain always knew. Because she was still silently cheering from the background. Like she always did.
And when Tito Robert was diagnosed with a brain tumor, and Tita Celeste was already looking at American specialists—Rain made the boldest move yet.
She asked Dr. Jacobe to recruit Kai.
Not just any neurosurgeon.
Her neurosurgeon.
The girl Tita Celeste once dismissed. The one she called a phase. A rebellion. A risk.
Rain fought for Kai to be the one to save the very man who fought to understand her when no one else did.
She wanted Tita Celeste to see.
To finally understand.
That the girl they tried to erase from Rain's life was the one who might save it.
The one who never needed their approval to be exceptional.
The irony wasn't lost on me. The daughter they tried to mold into perfection had found her own way. Through fire, through sacrifice, through the kind of love that doesn't ask for recognition.
Rain never stopped believing in Kai—even when it cost her everything.
And now?
Now the girl they cast aside was the only one Rain ever truly trusted to bring her father back.
That's not weakness.
That's love in its purest, most brutal form.
And that's what I needed Kai to understand.
But of course, Kai wouldn't know any of this.
Because Rain doesn't want her to know.
She'd rather carry the weight of being the villain in Kai's story.
Mas gugustuhin pa niyang siya ang masama—
Na siya ang nang-iwan.
Na siya ang lumayo.
Na siya ang tumalikod sa pagmamahalan nila.
Because for Rain, that's easier than making Kai feel guilty for everything she unknowingly gave up.
Easier than seeing the girl she loves hurt by the truth.
That's the thing about Rain. Even when she's the one breaking, she still tries to shield everyone else from the fallout. Including the one person who broke her the most.
And maybe that's what breaks me.
Because somewhere between all the silent sacrifices and whispered prayers, Rain forgot she deserved to be loved back—openly, loudly, and without apology.
She forgot she's not just a supporting character in Kai's life.
She's the main one who stayed.
Even when she was gone.
Rain's POV
"Good morning, hija."
Tita Laureen greeted me the moment I opened my eyes, her voice soft and familiar.
"Breakfast ka muna?" she asked, already heading to the kitchen.
"Sige po," I murmured, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "Tulog pa po ba si Solene?"
"Tulog pa siya, anak. Hinintay niya pa kasi 'yung Daddy niya kagabi, at si Khaleel may meeting pa sa barangay—mga homeowners association na naman."
She set a warm plate in front of me with that usual motherly efficiency, like she'd done it a thousand times before.
"Nakita ko nga pala ang Mommy mo sa grocery last time," she added casually, as if it didn't hold weight. "Mabuti naman at she's doing okay."
I just nodded, chewing slowly.
"Kamusta naman kayo ng Mommy mo?"
She knew. Everyone close to us knew about me and Mom—the rift that started way back in high school and never quite healed. Tita Laureen was one of the few who knew the truth behind it, behind the silence and polite smiles.
"Okay naman po... nag-uusap naman po kami." I paused, picked at the edge of my toast.
"Eh kamusta naman sila ng Daddy mo?" she pressed, gently.
"She's trying, I guess," I said, exhaling. "Pero alam mo naman 'yun, Tita... they can't be in the same room for more than an hour. Mag-aaway at mag-aaway talaga sila. That hasn't changed."
And then came the shift—Classic Tita Laureen.
"Kwento mo nga ako, anak, anong nangyari kahapon?"
There it was. The real reason she lingered at the table.
"Uhm..." I scratched my head, stalling. "Ang bilis po kasi ng mga pangyayari, parang hindi pa nagsi-sink in lahat."
I paused again, piecing it together in my mind.
"Hindi ko nga alam kung paano namin naitawid 'yung surgery kahapon, lalo na sa hostage situation—walang scans, walang imaging, pero si Kai... she found the bullet in the boss's head with nothing but instinct. Graceful pa rin kahit under pressure."
I chuckled, shaking my head in disbelief.
"She really is... 'miracle hands' for a reason."
Pak!
A light smack landed at the back of my head.
"Yan ha—kwento-kwento ka na naman diyan na parang in love," Solene said, standing at the kitchen doorway, hair messy, eyes narrowed. "Tapos mamaya, iiyak ka na naman na parang binagsakan ka ng buong mundo sa harap ng pintuan ko!"
I laughed, caught off guard.
"Good morning to you too," I muttered, half-smiling, heart a little lighter.
Solene plopped down in front of me, her expression already set with purpose.
"Sasama ako sa'yo sa hospital today," she said, pulling a random hair tie from her wrist and fixing her already perfect ponytail. "Dadaan lang ako kay Tito Robert, tapos samahan mo ako—mamimili tayo ng gamit para sa gender reveal ni Baby."
I blinked. "Wow! Hindi ko alam may schedule na pala ako ngayon. Kala ko day off ko 'to," I teased, raising an eyebrow.
"Bakit??" she snapped back, shooting me that classic Solene glare. "When you showed up unannounced, drenched in blood, may luha pa sa shirt mo like some dramatic soap opera character—umangal ba ako?" Her tone was mock-annoyed, but her smirk gave her away.
"Fine, fine!" I raised both hands in surrender. "Sasamahan kita—mahirap na, baka palayasin mo na naman ako pag nag-inarte ako."
We both laughed, the kind of laughter that made your shoulders relax. It was nice. It was safe.
"Tsaka please," she added, eyeing me like a judgmental tita, "gumamit ka ng sunglasses. Namumugto pa yung mata mo, hija! Para kang binugbog ng emosyon."
"Wow, salamat sa concern," I muttered with a chuckle just as Tita Laureen walked over, carrying a neatly packed container.
"Oh! Ibigay mo ito kay Ate mo, ha," she said, placing it gently in front of me. "Pakainin mo rin si Dad mo. Chicken binakol 'yan, niluto ko kanina."
"Thank you po, Tita," I said with a smile. "Sana po sa inyo magmana 'yung apo niyo. Huwag sa nanay niya na parang pinaglihi sa sama ng loob."
Suddenly, a voice bellowed from one of the bedrooms.
"RAINAAAAHHH MALDITAAAA!"
It was so loud, I nearly dropped my fork. My eardrums rang as Khaleel came barreling out, dramatic as ever, arms flailing as if I hadn't just seen him a few days ago. He wrapped me in a back hug that nearly crushed my spine.
"Kamusta na ang paboritong kaaway ng misis ko?" he asked, ruffling my hair like an annoying older brother.
Solene didn't even flinch. "Ayan, tanga pa rin," she muttered under her breath while sipping her juice.
Khaleel flopped into the seat beside me, sighing like a tired dad from a sitcom. "Hala, Rainah—di ka pa rin nakaka-move on?" he asked with exaggerated pity. "Sino na nga ulit 'yon, loves?" he asked, turning to Solene with mock innocence.
Solene deadpanned. "Kai."
"Kay Kai?! Jesus, Maryosep ka, Rainah!" he exclaimed, holding his chest like he was about to have a heart attack. Then he leaned over and tapped Solene's baby bump reverently. "Mauunahan ka na nitong inaanak mo magka-lovelife, Rain."
I rolled my eyes as he looked at me like he was the spokesperson of every unsolicited opinion on Earth.
"Well—I'm happy for both of you, okay?" I said, brushing him off.
Then I turned to Solene and added, "Khaleel, pakisabihan mo nga 'tong misis mo. Stressing her out too much, baka mamaya magkamukha talaga kayo ng anak niyo. Kawawa naman 'yung bata."
Solene snorted. "Too late."
Khaleel gasped. "Excuse me, anak ko 'to! Gorgeous by blood!"
"Delusional by choice," Solene and I said in unison.
And just like that, the room was filled with laughter again—no bloodstained shirts, no heavy memories. Just warmth, cluttered plates, and the strange comfort of being with people who loved you in all your broken and blooming forms.
Meanwhile...
Kai's POV
My phone buzzed violently on the nightstand, dragging me out of what little sleep I'd managed.
Dr. Aldritz. Germany.
My mentor.
I sat up and rubbed my eyes. "Kai," came his voice through the line, brisk but laced with concern. "Did I wake you?"
"No, Doc. What's going on?"
"I heard about the hostage situation yesterday. Are you alright? Do you need backup? Rescue?"
I chuckled dryly, voice hoarse. "No, sir. I'm good. Bruised ego, maybe, but still breathing."
"Good," he said. "Because I want you back here in one piece. Now—reason I'm calling is I just stepped out of a board meeting."
There was a pause. Long enough for my gut to twist.
"What do you want to hear first—the good news or the bad?"
Of course. Always with the damn triage questions. Life really liked making me choose between bullet wounds and broken ribs.
"Let's go with the bad. Tear the gauze off first."
A sigh. "Okay. Remember Dr. Rexington?"
I groaned immediately. "The guy from New York? Assisted me during the dicephalic twins case in Spain? Mr. I-think-with-my-scalpel and speak-through-my-ego?"
"That's the one," he said. "The board is considering him for head of neurosurgery."
"What?" My voice shot up an octave. "Are you kidding me?"
"They're considering him because you're not here, Kai," he said evenly. "I told you—drop that congressman's case. You can't expect them to hand you the position if you're an ocean away, playing hero in some provincial hospital in the Philippines."
The words sank heavy. All the hours. All the surgeries. All the cases I'd taken under my belt. And now, the rug felt like it was being pulled from under me.
I closed my eyes. Swallowed the lump rising in my throat.
"And the good news?" I asked, though at this point, I wasn't sure I could take more of this emotional whiplash.
"You're flying back to Berlin next week," he said. "We're assigning you a high-profile, extremely delicate case. A post-trauma glioblastoma resection involving a bilateral cortical mapping. It's yours."
I blinked. "That's... the good news?"
"Well, if you pull it off—and you will—the board will have to reconsider."
I leaned back against the headboard, heart pounding. So it wasn't just a case. It was a test.
Figures.
In the silence that followed, I stared up at the ceiling. Berlin. Leadership. Prestige. Recognition.
And Rain... still here.
The promotion didn't make sense.
I sat there, still clutching my phone, my chest heavy with a rage I couldn't name fully.
That bastard.
I worked my ass off to put St. Hedwig on the global map. I took on impossible cases. I bled for that hospital. And now? Rexington?
Fucking unfair.
"Arggggh!" I groaned, throwing my phone on the bed and sinking my face into a throw pillow.
I didn't even hear Luna come in until she spoke, mid-stretch after her morning run.
"Anong nangyari sa'yo? Ang aga-aga eh nakasimangot ka na naman!"
I didn't lift my head. My voice was muffled against the pillow.
"Putang-ina lang talaga, Lu. Nakakabuwisit. When someone else rips the fruit of everything you sowed."
She blinked, pausing by the edge of the bed. "Ah. So it's one of those mornings."
I nodded into the pillow.
She plopped down next to me, pulled the pillow off my face, and handed me a glass of water like I was some hungover drama queen.
"Spill. Sino nanapak sa ego mo today?"
"My mentor called me," I finally said, staring blankly at the glass of water Luna gave me.
"The promotion I've been working my ass off for... it's now hanging by a thread." I let out a bitter laugh. "They're considering some bastard from New York to take over neurosurgery. Rexington."
Luna's eyebrows shot up. "That arrogant prick? Seriously?"
I nodded. "Yup. The same one who micromanaged every damn move during the Spain case. They're eyeing him just because I'm not there."
I looked away, fists clenched.
"Nakakabwesit lang, Luna. Lahat ng pinaghirapan ko—every damn sleepless night, every breakthrough case, every fucking ounce of pride I poured into that hospital—they won't even count it. Just because I'm here, in the Philippines."
I stood up, pacing now.
"And you know what's worse?" I turned to her, voice rising. "They want me to take on another high-stakes, life-or-death case like some glorified test—just to be worthy of the position. One more miracle, then maybe they'll consider me."
I exhaled sharply.
"Putang-ina. Fuck that. Fuck all of it."
Then Luna looked at me, calm but direct.
"Gusto mo ba talaga yung promotion na 'yan?" she asked softly.
"Of course!" I snapped. "Ilang taon ko 'yang pinagpaguran, Luna. Pinaglaban ko 'yan."
She sat down beside me, eyes steady. "You've done your part then."
I turned to her, confused. "What? Anong ibig mong sabihin?"
She shrugged, her voice steady but gentle.
"Kai, you've done miraculous things just to prove your worth. You've gone above and beyond. You've already given them their answer—na you're the best at what you do."
"Eh paano naging sagot 'yon sa problema ko ngayon?" I asked, genuinely confused.
Luna looked me in the eye and said plainly:
"Putting yourself in a position where you always have to choose between your worth and their approval—that's your death trap."
"You've proven yourself. If they still don't see your value, that's on them." She paused. Then added:
"Maybe it's time you go somewhere you don't have to keep proving who you are. Somewhere you're valued, not just used."
She placed a hand on my shoulder, firm and reassuring.
"But if you do walk away—exit gracefully. Leave the door open, head held high. Let them remember what they lost."
"Huh," I scoffed, a half-smirk forming on my lips. "Look at you—Luna, the mature version 2.0. Since when did you start sounding like some life coach from a TED Talk?"
She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Since I started dealing with a stubborn neurosurgeon who thinks she has to carry the world on her back."
I sighed, slumping deeper into the couch. "Touche."