Chapter 7
Three months in, and the house hadn’t burned down yet. A miracle.
To be fair, living together had gotten… manageable. Not pleasant, not comfortable—just manageable. They had a routine now, a way to exist in the same space without throwing things at each other. Work kept them busy, and at home, they operated like two tenants who happened to share an address. If they needed to communicate, it was through curt nods, forwarded emails, or the occasional passive-aggressive sticky note on the fridge.
The marriage was about as romantic as a tax audit.
Between running their respective companies and getting pulled into the Fontaine Project, their schedules had become a nightmare.
- Mornings: Business as usual. Calls, reports, meetings.
- Afternoons: The Warehouse. Forced interaction. Forced collaboration. Forced to tolerate each other.
- Evenings: Go home. Ignore each other. Sleep. Repeat.
Sapphire had fully accepted that this was her life now: a never-ending cycle of work and strategic avoidance.
Jade, on the other hand, was still trying to poke at the edges of it, testing how far she could go before Sapphire snapped.
“Tutubi,” Jade called one evening as she strolled into the kitchen, barefoot and annoyingly relaxed after a long day. “Gagamitin mo ba ‘yung oven later?”
Sapphire didn’t even glance up from her laptop. “No.”
“Great, because I’m about to bake cookies.”
Sapphire’s typing stopped. She looked up. “Since when do you bake?”
Jade grinned. “Mula nung may napanood akong tutorial sa TikTok.”
“…Absolutely not.”
“Too late, na-preheat ko na.”
Jade ended up setting off the smoke detector twenty minutes later.
~
If marriage was exhausting, the Fontaine Project was on another level.
One month in, they had managed to avoid any catastrophic disasters, but that was barely an accomplishment. The only reason they weren’t at each other’s throats was because they were too damn tired.
Jade’s creativity was firing on all cylinders, but her unhinged design ideas kept pushing the limits of what was physically possible. Meanwhile, Sapphire was constantly reeling things in, making sure their jewelry didn’t just look good but actually functioned.
Which led to exchanges like:
Jade: “I’m thinking emeralds—pero encased sila sa hand-carved obsidian na may hinge mechanism para pwedeng magbukas na parang locket—”
Sapphire: “That is structurally unsound and a choking hazard.”
Jade: “Okay, killjoy."
And:
Sapphire: “This needs to be practical. Wearable. Functional.”
Jade: “Ugh, kung makapagsalita ka parang nag-design ako ng necklace na sumasabog ah.”
Sapphire: “…Did you?”
Jade: “Hypothetically, kung ginawa ko nga, would you be impressed?”
~
By the end of the first month, Philippe called them in for an evaluation.
“You are working,” he observed, pacing dramatically in front of them. “But you are not thriving.”
Sapphire, who was running on espresso and spite, exhaled through her nose. “We’re meeting all the deadlines.”
“Yes, but there is no passion,” Philippe declared, sweeping his hands through the air as if trying to summon some divine artistic energy. “No love!”
Jade blinked. “Are we talking about the jewelry or the marriage?”
Philippe looked deeply unimpressed. “Both.”
Sapphire pinched the bridge of her nose. “Philippe, with all due respect—”
He held up a finger. “Non, non, non. You are both brilliant. But brilliance alone is not enough. I need you to breathe the art. To feel it. Right now, you are efficient. You are productive. But where is the soul?”
Jade leaned toward Sapphire, smirking. “Narinig mo ba 'yun? Productive ka raw. That’s basically flirting.”
Sapphire closed her eyes and took a very deep, very regret-filled breath.
Month four of marriage. Month two of the Fontaine project.
At this point, their house functioned less like a home and more like a neutral zone between two warring factions that had grown too tired to fight every single day. There was peace, technically, but it wasn’t the comfortable kind. It was the sort of fragile truce that came from exhaustion.
Mornings were staggered. Jade rarely woke up early enough to catch Sapphire at breakfast. Not that either of them minded. It was easier this way. Fewer chances for arguments before coffee. By the time Jade finally emerged from her room, looking half-asleep and borderline feral, Sapphire was already gone, leaving behind an empty dining table and an overly organized kitchen.
The house remained painfully impersonal. Even their grocery habits spoke of their continued separation—Jade’s stash of snacks clashed with Sapphire’s arranged fridge, where everything had a designated place.
And yet, somehow, it worked.
Their forced cohabitation was miles away from affectionate, but at least it wasn’t a constant battlefield.
~
If their house was an impersonal diplomatic zone, then Philippe’s Warehouse was where their real battles took place.
The project had entered its early design phase, which meant brainstorming, prototyping, and, unfortunately, sitting in the same room for extended periods.
Surprisingly, things had been going well. Too well. For weeks, they managed to keep things civil. They exchanged ideas without resorting to name-calling. They gave each other space to work. Even Philippe, who had mentally prepared for disaster, was starting to believe that maybe—just maybe—they were capable of professional collaboration.
Then, of course, it all fell apart.
The argument started over something stupid.
"That clasp is impractical," Sapphire said, setting down her pen. "It looks innovative, sure, but no high-end client wants to spend five minutes trying to fasten a bracelet."
Jade, who had been sketching out potential designs, didn’t even look up. "Edi dapat mag-develop sila ng mas maayos na motor skills."
Sapphire pinched the bridge of her nose. "Jade."
Jade finally lifted her head, brows raised. "Ano? You’re acting like people don’t struggle with buttons every day."
"It’s a bracelet, not a puzzle box."
"Maybe it should be. Mahilig ang mga tao sa interactive pieces."
"Luxury buyers don’t."
"At alam mo ‘to dahil na-interview mo na sila isa-isa?"
Sapphire exhaled. "Because I have the data."
Jade waved a hand. "Oh, here we go with the data."
Philippe, who had been silently observing this exchange with the slow-growing look of a man regretting his life choices, cleared his throat. "Ladies—"
"I’m just saying," Jade continued, flipping a page in her sketchbook. "Functionality doesn’t have to come at the expense of creativity."
"And creativity doesn’t have to come at the expense of common sense," Sapphire shot back.
Jade’s eyes narrowed. "So ngayon wala akong common sense?"
"Sinabi ko ba ‘yun?"
"Your face did."
"My face—Jade, for God’s sake."
Philippe ran a hand over his face. "Dios mío, I need wine."
But they weren’t done.
It escalated, the way their arguments always did—one stubborn statement met with an even more stubborn rebuttal. Snide remarks layered over genuine grievances. Somewhere in the mix, it stopped being about a bracelet clasp and turned into something else entirely.
"Lagi ka na lang ganito!" Jade snapped.
Sapphire crossed her arms. "Laging ano?"
"Na para bang lagi na lang ikaw ‘yung tama."
"Because in this case, I am."
Jade let out a humorless laugh. "Wow. Naririnig mo ba sarili mo?"
And then, just like that, Sapphire shut down.
She didn’t fire back with another argument. She didn’t roll her eyes or give Jade one of her scathing, disapproving looks.
She just… stopped.
She turned back to her laptop, picked up her pen, and went right back to work as if the conversation had never happened.
Jade frowned. "Oh, so ‘yun na ‘yun? You get to shut down the discussion whenever you feel like it?"
Sapphire didn’t answer. Didn’t look at her.
"Seryoso?"
Nothing.
Jade scoffed, dropping her pencil onto the table.
Philippe, still watching them, muttered, "So much for progress."
Jade had already decided she wasn’t done fighting.
She had spent the entire drive home mentally sharpening her arguments, fine-tuning her rebuttals, and crafting the perfect set of smug expressions to throw Sapphire’s way. Oh, she was ready. She had the upper hand this time, and she was going to enjoy every second of proving that Sapphire Sevilleja—self-proclaimed queen of logic and reason—was wrong.
So when she spotted Sapphire’s car already parked in the garage, a smug smirk curled on her lips. Perfect. She wouldn’t even have to wait.
Jade stormed into the house, fully prepared to pick up their argument where they left off. “Oy, Sevilleja—”
Her words cut off mid-sentence.
Something was… off.
The house wasn’t in its usual taintless state. It wasn’t messy, exactly—Sapphire would rather drop dead than live in an unorganized space—but there were details that didn’t match her usual brand of obsessive neatness.
For one, Sapphire’s heels were discarded near the entryway, lying sideways on the floor instead of placed neatly on the shoe closet. Next to them, her handbag was slumped against the wall, unzipped, like it had been tossed there in a hurry.
Jade frowned. That wasn’t normal.
She wasn’t in the living room.
Or the kitchen.
Jade’s frown deepened. “Sapphire?” she called out.
Silence.
Now, that was alarming.
Jade sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Sapphire, if you’re ignoring me, ibang level na ‘yan ng pagka-petty, even for you.” She stepped further into the house, glancing toward the hallway that led to their bedrooms. Still no answer.
A strange sensation settled in her stomach—something annoyingly close to worry.
Shaking her head, she made her way to Sapphire’s room.
She knocked. No response.
Okay.
Jade pushed the door open.
And there, curled up under a thick blanket, was Sapphire.
Jade stopped in her tracks.
For a long second, she just stared, processing the unfamiliar sight. Her hair was undone, spilling across the pillow. Her usually flawless complexion had lost some of its luster, and her brows were slightly drawn together, like even in sleep, she was displeased with something.
Jade stepped closer, noting the flush on her cheeks—too pink, unnatural.
She sighed.
"Great," she muttered. "Of course, 'yung one time na hindi ka nagiging insufferable know-it-all, ay dahil may sakit ka."
She reached out and pressed the back of her hand against Sapphire’s forehead. The heat that met her skin made her eyebrows shoot up.
Okay. That was bad.
Sapphire stirred at the touch, her lashes fluttering. Slowly, her eyes opened, hazy and unfocused.
“Jade?” she mumbled, voice softer than Jade had ever heard it.
Oh, wow.
Jade was used to Sapphire being sharp-tongued, exasperated, or just outright annoyed at her existence. But this was new.
Jade crossed her arms. "May lagnat ka, Sevilleja.”
Sapphire let out a weak sigh. “Figured." She closed her eyes again, as if that single word had drained all her energy.
“Alright,” she grumbled. “Guess I’m playing babysitter.”
~
Jade was not a natural caretaker.
In fact, she was actively bad at it.
The first attempt at making lugaw ended in mild panic (she swore she followed the YouTube tutorial, but apparently, there was a difference between ‘simmer’ and ‘boil aggressively until catastrophe’). Defeated, she ordered from the nearest lugawan and dumped the takeout into a bowl before carrying it to Sapphire’s room like she totally made it herself.
Sapphire, now propped up against her pillows, blinked at the bowl. “You… cooked?”
Jade didn’t even flinch at the accusation in her voice. “Yeah,” she lied easily.
Sapphire eyed the dish, suspicious. Then, either too sick to argue or too weak to care, she accepted the spoon Jade handed her and took a bite.
Jade, despite herself, watched closely.
For a second, Sapphire didn’t react. Then she hummed—wait, no, she made a sound of approval.
Jade grinned. “See? You should trust me more.”
Sapphire leveled her with a look. “I can taste the MSG.”
Jade coughed. “Shut up and eat.”
And, miraculously, she did.
~
Then came the part that truly tested Jade’s patience.
Hygiene.
Even while sick, Sapphire had the nerve to look at her with fever-glazed eyes and say, “I need to shower.”
Jade gawked at her. “Ano?”
Sapphire struggled to sit up. “I feel gross.”
Jade pinched the bridge of her nose. “Tutubi, you’re literally dying.”
“I’m not dying,” Sapphire said, voice pitifully hoarse.
“Okay, well, tunog matanda ka na, so I’d say you’re close.”
Sapphire glared, but it lacked her usual fire. “Need ko lang mag-freshen up.”
Jade groaned. “Fine. But you are not showering alone.”
Sapphire’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
Jade blinked, then scowled. “Hindi kasi ‘yun! Ang ibig kong sabihin, hihintayin kita sa labas ng banyo in case na mahimatay ka at tumama ang ulo mo sa sahig.”
Sapphire seemed to consider that. Then, reluctantly, she nodded.
Jade helped her up, guiding her to the bathroom and handing over fresh clothes from the closet. Then she stood by the door, arms crossed, waiting.
“You better not die in there.”
“You better not eavesdrop.”
Jade rolled her eyes. “Believe me, wala akong balak pakinggan kung ano mang dramatic monologue ang gagawin mo diyan.”
Fifteen minutes later, Sapphire emerged looking a little less like a dying ghost. Jade grudgingly admitted (to herself) that she looked a little better, though still exhausted.
Which was why when Sapphire dragged herself to the vanity table and started reaching for her skincare, Jade snapped.
“Oh my God, hindi mo gagawin ‘yang routine mo ngayon.”
Sapphire glared at her through the mirror. “I always do my skincare.”
Jade threw her hands up. “Eh mukha ngang na-drain mo na lahat ng energy mo sa banyo o!”
Sapphire being Sapphire, tried anyway.
Jade let out a long-suffering sigh before marching over, grabbing her by the shoulders, and steering her back to bed.
“You are impossible.”
“I need my moisturizer.”
Jade stared at her. Then, before she could even process what she was doing, she grabbed the damn skincare bottles and sat on the bed beside her.
Sapphire blinked up at her. “What are you doing?”
"If you’re too stubborn to skip a night, then ako na ang gagawa para sa’yo."
Sapphire blinked. Then blinked again. "Ikaw?"
Jade smirked. "Oo, ako. You don’t own the concept of skincare. Meron din akong routine, you know."
Sapphire eyed her skeptically. "Let me guess. Face wash and a single moisturizer?"
Jade feigned offense. "Excuse me, I use serum too."
Sapphire gave her a look so dry it could cure dehydration. "How revolutionary."
Jade rolled her eyes and reached for a bottle. "Shut up and tell me what order these go in."
Sapphire let out a long-suffering sigh, but against all odds, she actually relented. "Fine. But use light pressure, and warm the product first."
"Yeah, yeah," Jade muttered, rubbing the serum between her fingers before pressing them against Sapphire’s skin.
Jade wasn’t prepared for how intimate this felt.
It was just skincare. A completely normal, non-dramatic thing.
Except it wasn’t.
Because Sapphire was watching her—her fever-flushed face calm, her gaze slightly lidded, as if she was studying her now.
Jade swallowed. Focused.
Her fingers moved across Sapphire’s cheeks, smoothing the serum over soft skin, pressing gently along the delicate slope of her jaw.
Neither of them spoke.
For the first time that night, Sapphire didn’t have a single complaint.
Jade’s hands slowed.
Sapphire’s lashes lowered just a fraction, but she didn’t look away.
Jade should have pulled back. Should have said something annoying just to break the—
"You're… not terrible at this," Sapphire murmured, her voice softer than usual.
Jade huffed a small, breathy laugh. "High praise."
Another pause.
Jade dipped her fingers into the next product, her movements almost careful now.
She pressed it onto Sapphire’s cheekbones, gliding along her temples, then traced the bridge of her nose with slow, even strokes.
Sapphire exhaled.
Not a word. Not a single sharp remark.
And somehow, that silence felt heavier than any argument they’d ever had.
Jade’s heart was doing something weird. Something she didn’t particularly want to analyze right now.
So she cleared her throat, leaned back, and muttered, "There. Done."
Sapphire blinked up at her.
Then, after a beat, she murmured, "You forgot eye cream."
Jade groaned and dropped onto the mattress beside her, dramatically flinging an arm over her face. "Oh dear, I hate you."
Sapphire smirked, eyes fluttering shut at last. "Slacking off. As expected."
Jade shook her head, tossing the remaining bottles onto the nightstand before standing up. She should leave. This was already weird enough.
But for some reason, she lingered a second longer.
Watched as Sapphire’s breathing evened out.
Then, before she could start questioning what the hell just happened, she muttered, "Good night, Dragonfly. "
Jade woke up to the sound of her own groaning.
Her entire body protested as she dragged herself out of bed, muscles stiff from sleeping weirdly—probably because she had been half-expecting Sapphire to call her in the middle of the night with another unreasonable request. “Jade, I am unwell.”
Dramatic. Absolutely dramatic.
Still, Jade had, against her better judgment, decided to work from home to look after her. She could already hear her emails piling up, but she ignored them. Instead, she focused on her current mission: making breakfast.
After last night’s lugaw disaster, she had a score to settle. She would not be defeated by another sick-person dish. Which was why she was now hunched over the stove, making chicken sopas with the determination of someone who had been personally insulted by their own cooking skills.
She followed the recipe with an intensity that would have frightened anyone who knew her usual approach to food. And somehow, miraculously, she succeeded. The sopas was creamy, fragrant, and filled with perfectly cooked macaroni, shredded chicken, and vegetables.
Feeling victorious, Jade transferred it into a bowl, balanced it on a tray along with a glass of water, and made her way to Sapphire’s room.
When she pushed the door open, she was met with a sight both pitiful and oddly endearing: Sapphire, wrapped in a blanket, looking like an expensive burrito, her hair slightly mussed and her expression dazed from sleep.
Jade smirked. “Good morning, misis ko.”
Sapphire’s eyes cracked open just enough to glare. “Don’t start.”
Jade ignored her and placed the tray on the bedside table. “I made you breakfast. You should be honored.”
Sapphire eyed the bowl suspiciously, as if Jade had poisoned it. “Really?”
Jade did not lie this time. “Oo nga. Masarap 'yan.”
Sapphire sighed, her skepticism not entirely gone, but she sat up and accepted the tray anyway. She took a careful spoonful, sipped, and…
Paused.
Jade leaned in. “Well?”
Another spoonful. Then another.
“…It’s acceptable.”
“Ang taas ng standards mo, ha. That’s the best damn sopas you’ve ever had.”
Sapphire didn’t dignify that with a response. But she kept eating, which was enough for Jade to claim victory.
~
Jade had resigned herself to working from the couch, laptop propped up on the coffee table as she responded to emails about the Fontaine project. Philippe had sent over some new design inspirations for the jewelry line, and she was in the middle of typing out a response when a familiar figure appeared in her periphery.
Sapphire, still bundled in a blanket, moving like a ghost haunting the house.
Jade narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me, anong ginagawa mo?”
Sapphire, already setting up her laptop, replied without looking up. “Working.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
Jade shut her laptop with a snap. “Hindi ka pa gumagaling.”
Sapphire shot her a look that was somehow both exhausted and full of condescension. “I am aware.”
Jade crossed her arms. “And yet you’re here.”
Sapphire’s tone turned deeply unimpressed. “I’m not contagious anymore.”
“That’s not the point. Nagpapahinga ka dapat.”
“I’m perfectly capable of working—”
“Nope.” Jade reached over and shut Sapphire’s laptop, ignoring the offended gasp that followed. “I’m not letting you stress yourself out while you’re still—” She waved a hand at her. “—like this.”
Sapphire’s expression twisted into something furious but also undeniably fatigued. “Tipaklong.”
“No.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re stubborn.”
They locked eyes in a silent battle of wills, neither budging—until Jade had an idea.
“Kung uupo ka na lang din dito,” she said, grabbing the remote, “manood na lang tayo ng movie.”
Sapphire sighed as if she were being punished. “What movie?”
Jade didn’t answer. She just picked the first romance film that popped up on the recommendations.
Thirty minutes in, they were both too invested to argue.
An hour in, things on screen got...heated.
Jade tried to play it cool, keeping her eyes on the screen like nothing was happening. But she could feel Sapphire shifting beside her, the tension in her posture, the way she suddenly looked like she regretted everything leading up to this.
The characters kissed. Passionately.
Jade cleared her throat.
Sapphire adjusted her blanket with unnecessary force.
Then, somehow, at some point, probably when the exhaustion fully set in, Sapphire shifted closer. She wasn’t paying attention—her head just sort of ended up against Jade’s shoulder, her breathing even.
Jade froze.
She glanced down. Sapphire had fully drifted off, nestled against her like this was normal.
Jade stared at the ceiling.
What. The. Hell.
She contemplated waking her up. But she didn’t.
Instead, she just sat there, pretending this was fine.
(It was not fine.)
~
Getting Sapphire to bed was another ordeal.
Jade helped her to her room, hands hovering like she was ready to catch her if she suddenly collapsed. Sapphire didn’t, of course—she just moved sluggishly, her fever mostly gone but her energy still low.
Jade pulled the blanket up, adjusting it carefully. “There. Tucked in like a princess.”
Sapphire, half-asleep, barely reacted.
Jade exhaled. Okay. Done. She could go now.
But then—for some absolutely stupid reason—her body moved on its own. It barely registered in her mind until she was halfway there.
She had been about to kiss Sapphire’s forehead.
Like this was normal. Like this was something she did.
She stopped mid-motion.
Her brain caught up.
WHAT THE HELL WAS SHE DOING.
Jade jerked back like she had just touched a hot stove. Then, without another thought, she spun around and marched straight to her room.
Once inside, she pressed herself against the door, heart pounding.
What. The. Hell.
She needed to reset her brain. Immediately.
Two days later, Sapphire emerged from her room looking significantly healthier—and immediately regretted it.
Because the moment Jade saw her, an infuriating grin spread across her face.
“Aw,” Jade drawled, crossing her arms. “Nasaan na ‘yung dramatic baby na inalagaan ko? You were so whiny.”
Sapphire’s soul left her body.
She turned on her heel, walking away, but Jade followed.
“Miss ko na ‘yung helpless, needy Sapphire. ‘Jade, I can’t reach my water bottle.’ ‘Jade, adjust my blanket.’ ‘Jade, my throat hurts, make it stop.’”
Sapphire stopped and turned around. “I will throw you out of this house.”
Jade beamed. “Not before I remind you of how much you snuggled me on the couch.”
Sapphire’s eye twitched.
Jade was having the time of her life.