The String I Never Cut

Prologue

Zari was crying again in the bathroom, her one-year-old baby wailing beside her.

"I'm so tired," she whispered, pressing her back against the cold tiles.

The baby's cries grew louder, tiny fists flailing. "Baby... shhh, shhh," she murmured, scooping him up. "Baby, everything's gonna be okay. Sige lang..."

She checked her phone. No messages. Not again.

"Lagi na lang... putangina," she muttered under her breath.

Zarina Marie Montanessa. Once, she had a life everyone envied. A socialite known not just for her family's wealth, but for the way she carried herself—graceful, confident, untouchable. She had studied fashion design at De La Salle–College of Saint Benilde, walked the ramps in fashion shows, and turned heads wherever she went.

Now? None of that mattered. Got pregnant, unmarried, degree unfinished... at sa sarili niya, she felt worthless.

Even now, she was still beautiful—sexy, graceful, elegant—but the reflection in the mirror couldn't hide the feeling that she had failed.

The problem? Atlas Villanueva. Her baby daddy.

They had this endless, exhausting cycle: break up, make up, repeat. Every return came with promises, every argument ended with tears and apologies. Pero kahit paulit-ulit, she always let him back in. She had tried leaving, ilang beses na. Each time, she packed, stormed out, swore she wouldn't come back. Pero somehow... babalik pa rin siya. Because of the baby. Because of history. Because deep down, she wanted it to work, kahit alam niyang hindi.

But this last time... something felt wrong. Not just the usual tension or excuses. There was a heaviness she hadn't felt before, a sense that maybe, just maybe, the pattern was about to break. Her gut screamed, "Zari... this time, think carefully. Hindi na pwedeng ganito ulit."

She looked down at her baby, small, innocent, completely unaware of the chaos surrounding him. His eyes, bright and trusting, made her chest ache. How could she protect him when she herself was so lost?

She remembered Atlas' promises—"I'll change, I swear," late-night texts, excuses that sounded too familiar. And every time, she believed him. And every time... she came back. Until now.

Her life had become a push-and-pull she was too tired to fight, a rhythm that drained her spirit. She hugged her baby tighter. Maybe this time, things will really have to be different. Siguro talaga... this is the breaking point.

It was 2 a.m. and still, no sign of Atlas.

Zari sat on the edge of the bed, her phone in hand, scrolling through videos of herself from the days when life felt lighter, brighter. Fashion shows. Parties. Friends laughing. Nights she had felt unstoppable. Nights she had felt... alive.

Her eyes drifted to her son, sleeping peacefully beside her. Tiny chest rising and falling. Soft little breaths. She brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and kissed him gently.

"Kahit anong mangyare... hindi ako nagsisisi na niluwal kita," she whispered. Her heart ached at the thought of all the sacrifices, the sleepless nights, the pain she had endured. But looking at him, she knew, she would do it all again a thousand times over.

The calm of the night was broken by the creak of the front door. Her stomach twisted.

Atlas stumbled in, reeking of alcohol, his eyes bloodshot but still sharp enough to find her. He leaned in for a kiss.

Zari turned her face away, ignoring him completely. Her body tensed, every instinct screaming not to engage.

"Zari... come on, babe. Don't be like that," he slurred, reaching for her hand.