Two side of Mariam / Angelic

Angelic Emperial paced back and forth in her mansion, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
Marcelino had been consistent, caring, and genuinely attentive for months now.
No matter how hard she tried to focus on her plan for revenge, a small, unwelcome part of her heart was beginning to soften.

"Please, be calm, Angelic," she whispered to herself. "This is not you."

She sat on the edge of her bed, her reflection in the mirror staring back with an expression of confusion and fear.
"What if I truly fall for him?" she asked herself, her voice barely a whisper.

A voice in her mind urged, "Make yourself happy. Why don't you give Marcelino a chance?"

But another, darker voice countered,
"Hey, Angelic, remember your goal! It's been seven years since you endured the pain and now you are closer to the path of revenge. Why believe in his sugar-coated acting?"

"Follow your heart, Mariam. It's you who can decide on your own path and your own happiness. Don't let the shackles control you," the softer voice coaxed.

"No, Angelic, once a cheater is always a cheater!" the dark voice hissed.

"Ahh!" Angelic screamed, clutching her head. The internal battle was tearing her apart.

She wanted to follow her good side, but the fear of being hurt again held her back. Her desire for revenge was strong, but was it worth the cost?

Just then, her phone rang, snapping her out of her turmoil. It was her secretary.

"Miss Emperial, where are you now?" The secretary's voice was trembling, filled with urgency.

"I'm here in my house. Is anything wrong?" Angelic asked, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in her chest.

"Miss Emperial, your dad..." The secretary's voice broke, full of sadness. "He's been in an accident."

"What happened to Dad? Hello?" Angelic's heart raced, but the call ended abruptly. She tried calling back, but the line was out of coverage.

Panicking, Angelic immediately dialed Marcelino. "Marcelino, it's Mariam. My father—something's happened to him. I need your help."

Marcelino’s voice was calm and reassuring. "I'll find out what happened. Stay calm. I'll call you back as soon as I know something."

Within minutes, Marcelino had his subordinates working to locate Arthur and gather information about the accident.

He called Angelic back. "Mariam, your father was in an accident this morning. He's been rushed to the hospital near the city center."

Angelic felt a mix of relief and dread. "Which hospital?"

Marcelino quickly provided the details. "I'll meet you there."

Grabbing her keys, Angelic rushed out, her mind racing with worry.
As she drove, she noticed the box Arthur had given her, filled with old photos.
She opened it and saw images of happier times, memories of her admiring her father. Tears blurred her vision.

"Please, Father, I'm sorry," she whispered, for the first time acknowledging the regret and longing she felt.

At the hospital, Angelic ran through the corridors, her heart pounding. She found Marcelino waiting for her, his face etched with concern.

"Mariam, he's in surgery. It was a serious accident," Marcelino said gently, guiding her to a seat.

Angelic's facade cracked, and she let Marcelino hold her as she cried.
The stern, vengeful woman she had become was stripped away, leaving a daughter worried about her father.
Hours felt like days as they waited for news.

Finally, a doctor approached. "Miss Emperial?"

Angelic stood up, her hands trembling. "Yes, that's me. How is my father?"

The doctor sighed. "He's stable but in critical condition. The next 24 hours are crucial."

Angelic nodded, her eyes filling with tears. She glanced at Marcelino, who squeezed her hand reassuringly.
Despite her mixed feelings, she was grateful for his support.

As they sat in the waiting room, Marcelino said softly, "Mariam, I know we've been through a lot, but I'm here for you. Always."

Angelic looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of deceit, but found none.
For a moment, she allowed herself to believe in his sincerity.

"Thank you, Marcelino," she whispered. "I don't know what I would do without you right now."

As the hours passed, Angelic's mind was a storm of thoughts.
She remembered her plan for revenge but now felt the weight of her emotions.
Could she really go through with it? Did she want to?

The next morning, the doctor informed them that Arthur had made it through the critical period but would need intensive care and monitoring.
Angelic was allowed to see him briefly. She entered his room, the sight of her father lying weak and vulnerable on the hospital bed breaking her heart.

"Father," she whispered, taking his hand. "I'm here. I'm sorry for everything."

Arthur’s eyes fluttered open, and he squeezed her hand weakly. "Mariam... I'm so proud of you. Please, forgive me."

Tears streamed down her face as she nodded. "I forgive you, Father. Just get better."

Leaving the room, she found Marcelino waiting. "He's going to be okay," she said, her voice shaky but hopeful.

Marcelino pulled her into a comforting embrace. "I'm glad. You both need each other."

Days turned into weeks as Arthur slowly recovered.
During this time, Angelic found herself relying more on Marcelino.
He was there for every doctor’s appointment, every late-night worry, and every moment of doubt.
His unwavering support and genuine care started to chip away at her defenses.

One evening, after visiting her father, Angelic and Marcelino walked through a nearby park.
The moonlight bathed everything in a soft glow, creating an intimate atmosphere.

"Mariam," Marcelino began, his voice sincere, "I know I hurt you deeply, and I can't change the past.
But I want to be here for you, for your family. I want to build a future with you, if you'll let me."

Angelic looked at him, torn between her lingering desire for revenge and the new feelings that were emerging.

"Marcelino, I appreciate everything you've done. But I'm scared. I'm scared you'll break my heart again."

Marcelino stopped and took her hands in his. "I understand your fear, but I promise you, I've changed. I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you."

Her heart ached with the weight of her emotions. Could she trust him again? Could she let go of her anger and embrace a future with him?

As they continued their walk, Angelic felt a glimmer of hope.
Maybe, just maybe, she could find it in her heart to forgive and start anew.
But the path to healing was still long, and the shadows of her past would not easily let go.

Back at her mansion, Angelic sat in her study, the box of old photos in front of her.
She picked up a picture of her younger self, standing beside her father, smiling proudly.
The image stirred something deep within her—a longing for the love and support she once felt.

"Father," she whispered, "I'm sorry for everything."

As she put the photo back, her phone buzzed with a message from Marcelino: "Thinking of you. Hope you're okay."

She replied: "Thank you. I'm trying to be."

Days turned into months, and Angelic continued to navigate her complex feelings.
Marcelino remained by her side, patient and supportive.
Slowly, her heart began to thaw, and she allowed herself to entertain the possibility of a future with him.

But the journey was far from over.
Angelic still had to confront her inner demons and decide whether to fully embrace forgiveness or let her need for revenge consume her.
One night, after a particularly difficult day, she stood in front of the mirror again, the reflection of a woman caught between two worlds staring back at her.

"It's your choice, Mariam," she said to herself. "You can follow your heart and find happiness, or you can let the darkness consume you."

The answer wasn't easy, and the path ahead was uncertain.
But for the first time in a long while, Angelic felt a flicker of hope.
She would take it one day at a time, guided by the love for her family and the possibility of a future free from the shadows of her past.

As she lay in bed that night, she whispered a silent prayer.

"Please, let me find the strength to forgive. Let me find the courage to love again."
And with that, she closed her eyes, hopeful for the dawn of a new day.