Chapter 3: Invisible Vows

The days blurred into each other like brushstrokes in a watercolor painting left out in the rain.

Lara moved like a shadow through the Almonte household. She rose early, prepared breakfast, dressed Vrex, managed the housekeeper’s schedule, and kept the illusion intact. But no matter how perfect her imitation, she was never Vrex in their eyes.

Especially in the eyes of Andrie's family.

Andrie’s mother, Rosario Almonte, never once called her by name. Every morning at the breakfast table, she would greet Vrex with warmth and her son with pride, but when her eyes landed on Lara, they turned cold.

"You overcooked the eggs," Rosario said one morning, not looking up from her coffee.

lara smiled tightly. "I’ll do better tomorrow."

"lora always made them soft," Rosario muttered.

lara didn’t reply. She simply cleared the table and returned to the kitchen, her shoulders stiff, her chest aching.

That night, she found herself staring at lora’s old photo albums. Smiles frozen in time. Andrie kissing lora’s cheek. Vrex’s baby shower. Beach trips. Laughter. Joy. All of it belonged to her sister—and none of it would ever be hers.

---

It was the eve of what would have been lora and Andrie's fourth anniversary.

lara baked a cake.

She didn’t know why. Maybe because it was something lora would have done. Or maybe because part of her believed that honoring lora meant keeping those traditions alive.

Andrie came home late. His shirt was wrinkled. He reeked of alcohol.

She met him in the foyer.

"You forgot the day," she said quietly.

He blinked at her, confused. "What?"

"Your wedding anniversary."

Andrie let out a dry laugh. "There’s nothing to celebrate."

He walked past her, ignoring the small cake she had placed on the dining table, white frosting carefully piped in cursive: *To S & G. Forever.*

lara stared at the untouched cake for a long time.

Later that night, Andrie knocked on her bedroom door.

She hesitated before opening it.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. The look in his eyes was heavy, desperate, and guilt-ridden.

He stepped inside. She didn’t stop him.

They didn’t make love. It was something colder. Quieter. Like strangers trying to remember a song they once knew.

Afterward, he lay beside her, facing the wall.

"You smell like her," he whispered.

lara’s heart cracked.

She didn’t respond. Because in that moment, she wasn’t herself.

She was lora.

---

Weeks turned into months. Vrex grew. His vocabulary exploded. He started drawing at daycare, his scribbles always including a woman in a blue dress. The teachers praised lara: "You’ve raised such a sweet boy."

But even as Vrex clung to her, even as he began to say "Mommy" with complete confidence, a small part of lara recoiled.

Because she had no idea who she was anymore.

---

Then came the letter.

It arrived in an old box of lora’s belongings, things from their shared childhood bedroom. Their mother had packed them away and forgotten. lara found it while organizing the attic. The box was filled with notebooks, dried flowers, bracelets from summer camp.

And one envelope.

*To Vrex. On your 18th birthday.*

lara froze.

Her fingers trembled as she held it.

Inside was a letter. Written in lora’s looping script. Full of warmth and motherly love. Full of memories she hoped her son would cherish. Alongside it was a tiny blue box containing a matching sundress—the one both she and lara had worn as girls.

"So he never forgets how much I loved him," the letter read. "Give this to him when he’s ready. I want him to know who I was. Not just who he sees."

lara pressed the letter to her chest.

She couldn't breathe.

She hadn’t told Andrie. She didn’t know why.

Maybe because the illusion was the only thing holding them all together.

But the truth waited. Patiently.

And it would not stay buried forever.

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