Echoes of Deceit: A Tapestry of Broken Hearts

Chapter 1

Morning After the Storm

The woman stirred beneath the blanket, her eyes fluttering open to the new day. As she eased herself out of bed, aches and discomfort greeted her, reminders of the night’s restless sleep.

Stretching, she arched her back, wincing at the soreness in her muscles. With a deep breath, she expanded her chest, feeling the air fill her lungs. Slowly, she blinked, adjusting to the unfamiliar ceiling and the sweet scent in the room. As awareness fully dawned, a sharp ache spread through her body, and she couldn’t help but groan at the intense sensation in her nipples. Her gaze shifted to the small nightstand, where the indicator light blinked and then vibrated softly. The name Mia floated back into her memory. Naked, her brow furrowed in a series of frowns as a sharp, slicing pain seared through her groin.

She curled up and then turned onto her stomach, regretting her confession to the stranger about her sexual activity. It wasn’t the first time, but the first in a long while. Never before had Mia felt a sexual sensation as intense as the one from last night.

Her agile fingers, well-versed in the usual distance she kept her phone before sleeping, reached out and found it. Lying face down, her body stretched languidly.

She exerted all her strength to lift her head from the pillow, her eyelids heavy as if weighed down. Her thumb rolled over the phone screen.

Mia gazed at the message, her expression calm and unruffled. Though she had erased the sender’s contact information, her memory remained sharp enough to recall a series of phone numbers.

Until a few days ago, before she left the country, the owner of that number was the only man who filled her thoughts.

With a clear head, she let the phone screen dim and then go dark, the decision made almost unconsciously.

Maleko perhaps needed to learn the art of patience—to pause before his words and actions, recognizing their potential to significantly impact someone’s life unintentionally. Exhaustion washed over Mia. When the man she’d been with for years unexpectedly expressed hesitance about marriage, a flicker of relief emerged, however fleeting.

In her heart, she had a sneaking suspicion that Maleko would change his mind. Yet, as she accepted a last-minute offer for a short job in Quezon City, a part of her dared to hope for a completely new chapter to unfold.

The young woman stretched and then turned over, lying on her back. Setting her phone face down on the table, she sat up, leaning against the headboard with her bare skin. Mia’s hand instinctively moved between her thighs, a habitual gesture despite no need for it. There was nothing she needed to confirm.

She wasn’t too intoxicated to question the events of the previous night. The sensation of the hard shaft lingered as if it were still present. The empty space on the other side of her bed served as a stark reminder. Someone had filled it the night before, just before she drifted into deep sleep. Her memories since lying down on the bed were a jumbled blur, difficult to recall in order.

The man pressed down on her, his sweat dripping onto her skin. The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, spittle flying, the rhythmic and banal movements of the hips and waist, impactful glares, the squeaking of the bed, and the shouts of passion and satisfaction. Maria’s eyes shut, her ribcage expanding with each deep breath.

During her morning meditation routine, Mia tried to push away memories that led her body to start secreting without external stimulus. Before opening her eyes, she flared her nostrils, catching the sweet aroma of melon bread from the bakery across the hotel, a part of her waking routine for the past ten days. Thoughts of Maleko Satchel Hockney quickly faded from her mind as this job marked her first venture since breaking away from the senior chef consultant, a figure she seldom acknowledged as a hindrance to her writing career. They first connected through work.

Maleko needed an assistant skilled at crafting vivid descriptions for recipes and menu choices tailored for a variety of upscale restaurants nationwide.

She was referred by an editor, and from that moment on, they were inseparable. His ability to create phenomenal works instantly positioned Mia as both a collaborator and a loyal fan.

In a pivotal moment, she set aside her own dreams, believing that behind every person’s success were individuals destined to be the driving force. She became one of those wheels. But this morning, Mia felt like a wheel set loose.

Maleko was no more significant than a piece of melon bread that excited her.

Mia peeled back the blanket wrapped around her naked body and fell into a reverie. She bent forward, her gaze fixed on her exposed breasts. A message from Maleko momentarily made her forget the events of the previous night: a strange man questioning her cheap umbrella, a few shots of tuba, and a bold decision she had never before contemplated. What would she say to Maleko if he changed his mind again about their relationship, revealing she had slept with a man she had once reluctantly encountered in the hotel lobby when their umbrellas got mixed up at baggage claim? Would that be considered a betrayal, even though they were currently broken up? Forgiveness from Maleko was unlikely. Their relationship would likely continue only as long as Maleko desired it.

He would likely act as though it never happened, but he would never forget, much less forgive. He would refuse to accept that his own words were the main reason Mia ended up in another man’s embrace.

Ansel was far superior to Maleko in bed, knowing exactly the right places to touch a woman.

Whether it was due to Mia’s lack of contact with other men in recent years or the thrill of being intimate with a stranger, she couldn’t say for certain. One thing was clear: She hadn’t felt this satisfied in a long time.

Ansel brought her to a shuddering orgasm, and merely imagining it again filled Mia with deep sorrow.

Maleko wasn’t particularly fond of sex, and on the rare occasions when they did engage, he seemed to believe that if he was satisfied, she must be too. They never discussed sexual matters. To Maleko, sex was merely a complement to romance, with millions of other things he considered more deserving of attention in the journey of life.

Mia couldn’t bear the thought of being seen as shallow if she brought it up herself. However, it was merely a one-night stand after several forced interactions during awkward meetings.

Deep down, Mia was certain that Maleko would reach out to her again.

Maleko often said things he didn’t mean when he reached a dead end with his ideas, then fumbled for apologies and regretted them.

Mia was aware, yet she still accepted Ansel’s invitation. She glanced at the empty space next to her.

More than anything else, Maleko was Mia’s life.

Certainly, Ansel had countless imperfections that extended beyond the bedroom.

Mia smoothed her short hair behind her ears before placing her feet on the cold floor.

Ansel took some time to pick up her scattered clothes and neatly arrange them on a chair.

She leaned forward to retrieve the shirt she had worn the night before, a fleeting sense of satisfaction washing over her as the soft satin brushed against her breasts. Three sudden knocks on the door shattered Mia’s daydream, and her heart felt like it was about to leap out of her chest.

She hurriedly adjusted her partially unbuttoned shirt as the three knocks persisted, accompanied by the sound of the electronic lock being released from the outside. Mia stood frozen, watching as a man emerged from behind the door.

Ansel greeted the still-stunned Mia with an incredibly sweet smile from the edge of the bed, then launched into a ramble about a bakery so busy he had to wait in a long line. He settled in leisurely, removing his jacket and approaching Mia as if he belonged there. His thick, beautiful eyebrows furrowed as his two brown eyes met Mia’s wide-eyed stare.

What’s up, gorgeous? he asked, puzzled. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Ansel chuckled and brushed his lips against her warm, plump ones.

I thought this was going to be a one-night stand, Mia said softly, her husky voice naturally carrying a hint of vulnerability.

Oh, Ansel replied curtly. He then held up a paper bag and two cups of coffee. Last night, someone mentioned it’s been ten days since she caught a whiff of melon bread without being able to find it, he said.

Mia didn’t remember saying those words.

Come on, Ansel urged. You could at least say thank you, and besides, it’s not just me who was happy last night.

Fair enough, Mia thought as she allowed Ansel to close the distance and trace her hip curves. As the man confidently sniffed her neck, Mia’s small, white fingers reached out for one of the coffee cups in Ansel’s hand, their fingertips making contact.

Mia felt her heart skip a beat, her small frame twitching with inevitable awkwardness.

Ansel furrowed his brow. The touch of their fingers paled in comparison to the closeness of their bodies, but the woman’s reaction to the sting at her fingertips was more intense.

She had an endearing quality, and a satisfied smile spread across Ansel’s face. Mia certainly wasn’t the first girl to evoke such feelings in him.

The man had, perhaps not excessively, experienced intimacy with hundreds of partners who matched his prowess.

Mia seemed very rigid, yet there was something incredibly special about her. Her arched back as Ansel suckled her breasts, or the way she screamed when he bit the soft skin of her inner thigh, ignited a fire within the man. Her voice carried a sense of purity, innocence, and great curiosity, stemming not only from her lack of experience but also from her desire, hope, and longing for new experiences, not just for one night.

Even now, holding a paper cup of coffee, Ansel felt a surging, urgent desire. However, Ansel’s intimidating smile and confidence suddenly made Mia wish she had turned down the intimate invitation the night before. Their sexual relationship was truly extraordinary, but nothing could compare to the intoxicating gaze in Ansel’s eyes this morning.

Given another day, she would undoubtedly fall in love.

Ansel sat next to her and, wordlessly, resumed his seduction. His lips continued to nibble and crush, his wet tongue exploring Mia’s face as if eager to consume it. Their tongues intertwined, dancing a tantalizing tango of desire and pleasure. The warmth of his breath flushed Mia’s skin with a rosy glow. His patience vanished like a wisp of smoke as his hands slipped beneath Mia’s loose shirt, exploring her body with a firm yet gentle touch, eliciting soft sighs and gasps from her. Their actions spoke louder than words.

Ansel slowly removed Mia’s clothes, each movement deliberate and tantalizing. He deftly undid the buttons of her shirt, leaving her lying exposed in just her last piece of clothing. Ansel enveloped Mia’s body with his strong arms, showering her with hasty, directionless kisses. Beads of sweat began to form on her skin, and her slender frame squeezed between him and the bed.

She struggled to draw breath under the weight of Ansel’s body pressing down on hers. However, she secretly enjoyed it. A woman desires to be wanted by her lover explosively. The urgency of his actions suggested that nothing else mattered.

Ansel felt the passion in the air. The woman’s body arched involuntarily as his mouth enveloped her nipple, his fingers deftly teasing and twisting, eliciting a gasp of pleasure. Ansel’s desire surged as Mia’s body moved sensually. His eagerness to consume her hinted at a passion that would surely leave a lasting impression. His desire was palpable, his eyes ablaze with a hunger to claim her, to take her from someone whose name hadn’t even crossed his mind until that morning.

He watched as the man’s nails left marks on Mia’s smooth skin, wishing he could erase them. Surprisingly, he didn’t find it silly.

She said his name, drawing out Ansel as if savoring the sound. In one night, love had taken her by surprise, dispelling her usual laziness. In a single night, she rewrote all the rules of her life.

Chapter 2

The Umbrella’s Secret Exchange

In the hotel lobby, the green umbrella became involved in an unexpected transaction.

Ansel, skilled in unconventional approaches, often used similar tactics to start conversations with girls. He didn’t seem to care about the first impression, positive or negative, as long as he caught a girl’s attention. Failure didn’t deter him; he remained undeterred.

The charismatic young man found failure more acceptable than regret. His methods were honest, aiming to fulfill his desires without harm. Ansel’s choice of targets was often more random than intentional. His busy schedule left him almost no time for it, making this solution perfect for his needs.

Ansel readily admitted, even if only to himself, that romantic relationships often left him feeling bored. He always stayed true to himself, his decisions influenced by careful observation.

In previous relationships, Ansel was drawn to captivating girls, craving more encounters. However, when they questioned his commitment, these relationships faltered, and his interest waned. In a fleeting moment, they seemed as lifeless as mannequins. This pattern repeated itself.

He began making decisions he believed were best for himself. As she held the green umbrella, her melancholic expression suggested a connection to a similar one he had previously abandoned on a large stand in the hotel lobby.

Ansel deduced from their conversation that the girl and her colleague were in Quezon City for the same reason. Having lived in the city for some time, Ansel, a television show producer, had immersed himself in its culinary scene, particularly focusing on what he viewed as a pivotal event in its history.

The girl with the green umbrella had been sent by a magazine.

He deliberately took the wrong umbrella and later returned to the reception desk to rectify the mix-up with his own belongings.

Unaware, Mia remained oblivious to the exchange of her umbrella.

Ansel found Mia physically appealing. Her beauty was evident in her slender legs, ample bust, and straight, unassuming hair that fell gracefully against her long neck and slim shoulders. Despite her undeniable attractiveness, her face hinted at a profound sadness.

With a single glance, Ansel quickly grasped the situation, sensing an opportunity to exploit her vulnerability. He surmised that she was preoccupied with thoughts of her significant other.

Perhaps a possessive man was constantly disrupting her life, which could explain her tired appearance. Alternatively, it could be a boring partner who failed to satisfy her, leaving her restless and seeking solace in the company of a more athletic, Adonis-like man.

Ansel felt an urge to approach her. As he observed Maria Mockford’s awkwardness, his initial thought was to seize the opportunity.

She found herself in a dilemma, which heightened the excitement for all the men interested in the opposite sex—Ansel included.

However, Ansel was cautious not to appear as though he was trying too hard in Mia’s eyes. No woman should have to endure that. It felt like a stroke of luck when an opportunity seemed to present itself overnight. After the event, Mia’s team and his production crew coincidentally ended up at the same place for drinks. As Mia’s mind raced with thoughts of Maleko, her smile gradually brightened upon hearing Ansel openly confess that he had almost despaired of finding a way to talk to her, except for the mix-up with their umbrellas. The events that followed unfolded effortlessly.

Ansel stirred from his sleep, waking earlier than usual that day, his thoughts turning into a solemn oath.

He dressed silently, with no intention of returning. Ansel gathered from Mia’s reception that she had no desire to see him again once she woke up. Despite having the option to return to his room on a different floor, he chose to go downstairs and purchase two cups of coffee and some slices of bread. The wrapped bread sat atop the nightstand, by now surely cold.

Mia exuded an irresistible allure, her body fitting perfectly into his embrace. Was it her enthusiastic response to match his passion from the previous night that drew him back, or perhaps the lingering scent of her sensual body? Her skin felt incredibly soft against his, and her hair tickled his nose as he lay behind her. There was a hint of irritation in her breaths, seemingly directed at someone else, while Ansel was intimate with her.

Ansel was acutely aware that he had no need for this. Such feelings would inevitably lead to guilt when boredom eventually set in.

Despite being aware that it was the right time to leave, he remained completely still. As the young man’s mind swirled with questions, Mia’s neck pulsed for a moment before her head snapped toward him.

Why are you still here? Mia asked, her tone chilly, attempting to convey that her heart was not easily swayed.

But Ansel had encountered plenty of women with similar attitudes in the past.

This isn’t a good idea, Ansel, she said.

Boldly, Ansel stroked Mia’s tightly clenched fist, tracing vague, abstract circles on her hand. You know what I’m thinking? I don’t think you should go home today.

Do I really not have to go home today? Mia asked, her tone dismissive. Just for this?

"I feel like last night and this morning were more