Epilogue | Finale
The annulment proceedings moved quickly on paper, but for Lucas, each step felt agonizingly slow. Like watching a slow bleed you couldn’t stop.
He had only appeared in court twice, each time merely to affirm his consent and confirm the obvious, that he was letting go of the only woman he’d ever truly loved.
Everything moved in motion. The world didn’t stop. Life didn’t pause for his heartbreak.
In the aftermath, he buried himself in work. The Guzmans had pulled out of all joint ventures. Their companies severed ties almost overnight, and damage control consumed his days. But even then, even amid the corporate fires, business realignment, and endless meetings, his thoughts would wander—always back to her.
Lara.
He thought of her often. More than he cared to admit. Some nights, she came to him in dreams, always just out of reach, always walking away. And each time he woke up alone in his cold, quiet bed, the ache sharpened.
He missed her. Fiercely. Completely. And he knew with aching certainty that he would carry that longing with him for a long, long time. Maybe even for the rest of his life.
There was now a hole in his life that no achievement, no distraction, no person could ever fill. A puzzle piece forever lost. And somehow, he had to live with that. He had to learn to breathe through the ache, to walk through days carrying the weight of everything he’d done... and everything he’d lost.
Because he knew, in the clearest, most painful part of his heart, that he could never take it back. That he could never have Lara back.
Time, cruel as ever, moved both too fast and too slow.
And then one day, a full year had passed.
Lucas was in his office one afternoon when Atty. Velasquez arrived. He had been staring blankly at his laptop when the lawyer laid a sealed envelope on his desk. It was thick, white, stamped in red with the unmistakable seal of the Regional Trial Court.
“Your copy of the court’s decision,” Atty. Velasquez said gently. “I picked it up from the courthouse this morning.”
Lucas stared at it. His name was written neatly in blue ink on the front.
He didn’t open it right away. His fingers hovered over the flap, his chest tightening with something sharp and cold.
After a long moment, he finally tore the envelope open and pulled out the crisp pages inside.
“Certified True Copy of Decision – Civil Case No. 24-0891”
His eyes scanned the ruling, each word cutting deeper than the last.
“…declaring the marriage between petitioner Lara Nichole Guzman and respondent Lucas Dela Merced null and void under Article 36 of the Family Code…”
“…on the ground of psychological incapacity, citing the inability to establish intimacy, emotional attachment, or mutual marital obligations…”
“…the Court finds merit in the petition…”
“…as such, the marriage is hereby declared null and void ab initio, and both parties are restored to their status prior to the marriage…”
Lucas read it twice.
Then a third time.
And still, the words hit like ice water on a wound that never really healed.
It’s done.
He was no longer her husband.
His expression didn’t change much, but inside he felt as if something had quietly died.
He folded the paper quietly and placed it back on the table, eyes still fixed on the red seal. It stared back at him like a final stamp of failure. He felt hollow. The kind of hollow that no success or distraction could ever fill.
Atty. Velasquez cleared his throat and said calmly, “By now, Lara has likely received her copy of the court’s decision as well. If neither of you files a motion for reconsideration or an appeal within fifteen days from the date of receipt, the decision becomes final. You’ll receive the Certificate of Finality.”
Lucas remained silent for a moment, his thumb brushing the edge of the document.
Then, almost carefully, he asked, “If I file an appeal… does that mean the court could reverse the annulment? Like… everything could still be undone?”
The lawyer looked at him closely before answering. “Yes. The decision would not become final. It would be elevated to the Court of Appeals for review. It’s possible, though unlikely, that it could be overturned.”
Silence fell again.
“Why did you ask?” Atty. Velasquez asked, brow furrowing. “Do you plan to file an appeal?”
Lucas met his gaze, then looked away before answering with a small, sad smile. “No. I don’t want to complicate Lara’s life. I was just… asking.”
“Understood.” Atty. Velasquez gave a professional nod. “Then you can expect to receive the Certificate of Finality within fifteen days. After that, we’ll register it with the Local Civil Registrar and PSA. I’ll personally handle the annotations on your marriage certificate.”
Lucas nodded slowly, offering a stiff smile. “Thank you.”
When Atty. Velasquez left, the room fell quiet.
Lucas sat there, unmoving, staring at the envelope again. His chest tightened, his throat burned as the truth wrapped around him like a vice, and before he could stop it, a single tear escaped down his cheek.
He wiped it away immediately, almost angrily. As if punishing himself for still hoping.
But he couldn’t stop the way his heart clenched. Couldn’t stop the sharp, stinging realization that it was truly over.
He wasn’t married to Lara anymore.
He should’ve felt relieved. Once, he had wanted this. Back when he was too blind, too arrogant to see what he had. When he still resented the idea of being tied to her, when he still saw her as just another cage he needed to escape. He was the one who had threatened her, told her she’d be the one begging for annulment someday.
And Lara did file.
But she never begged.
She never lowered herself. She stood her ground. Fought for her freedom. And in the end, he was the one who ended up begging for another chance. For her heart.
Joke’s on him.
Lucas closed his eyes, exhaled shakily, and leaned back in his chair. He let the ache settle in the hollow of his chest.
This was grief.
Not of a person who died, but of a love he killed with his own hands.
Two weeks later.
Lucas was staying at his parents’ house. He rarely returned to the house he once shared with Lara. He couldn’t bring himself to. She had been right all along, it was no longer a home. Just a hollow space filled with echoes of things they never became. But he still couldn’t let it go. It was the last physical trace of her in his life, and surrendering it would feel like erasing the last chapter of a book he was still trying to reread.
It was late afternoon when Lily knocked on his bedroom door.
“Kuya,” she called softly. “There’s a delivery for you. A courier’s waiting at the gate.”
Lucas pulled himself up from the bed, dragging his feet across the floor. When he got to the gate, a man stood outside in a crisp navy-blue courier uniform, holding a clipboard and a long brown envelope.
“Good afternoon, Sir. Delivery for Mr. Lucas Dela Merced,” the man greeted politely.
“That’s me,” Lucas replied, his voice low.
“Kindly sign here,” the courier said, handing over a pen.
Lucas scribbled his name on the receipt and took the envelope, nodding as the courier gave a small bow and walked away.
He walked back inside the house slowly, the envelope clutched in his hand.
“What’s that?” his mother asked from the living room, her eyes searching his face. Lily looked up too from the couch.
“I don’t know yet,” he said, avoiding their gaze. “I’ll check upstairs.”
In truth, he didn’t want to open it in front of anyone.
He took the stairs in silence and entered his room. He walked straight to the connected office and sat at the desk, the envelope still unopened in his hand. He stared at it for a long time. He already knew what was inside, but that didn’t make it any easier.
He let out a breath. Then, slowly, carefully, he peeled back the flap and pulled out the paper.
The seal of the court was there, unmistakable. The words stared back at him.
Republic of the Philippines
Regional Trial Court, Makati City
Civil Case No. 24-0891
CERTIFICATE OF FINALITY
“This is to certify that the Decision dated May 8, 202X, declaring the marriage between petitioner Lara Nicole Guzman and respondent Lucas Dela Merced null and void under Article 36 of the Family Code of the Philippines, has become final and executory on May 20, 202X, pursuant to the Rules of Court.”
Issued this May 21, 202X, under the seal of the Court.
Lucas stared at the paper as if somehow, by sheer will, he could change what it said.
But it was final.
This was really it.
Finality.
The law no longer recognized his marriage to Lara, not even as a failed one. Just… nonexistent. As though it had never happened. Like she was never his wife. Like he was never her husband.
He wasn’t even her ex-husband.
Just a man she once knew. A mistake the law had erased.
A ghost in her story.
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady the ache in his chest. But the pain had made a home inside him, and it wasn’t leaving. He traced the edge of the paper with a trembling finger.
His voice broke in the silence.
“She’s free now.”
Free from him.
Free from the pain, the doubt, the cold walls of a marriage she tried so desperately to fix.
A tear slipped down his cheek and soaked into the paper.
Softly. Silently.
One after another, sliding freely down his cheeks.
He didn’t wipe them away.
There was no one left to hide from now.
He deserved this grief. He deserved to mourn what he destroyed with his own hands. The love he never held properly, the woman he only learned to cherish too late.
And now, he would carry this weight forever.
The ache of a love unlived.
The ache of being the man she once wanted… and would never choose again.
Now, as he stood at the airport terminal, overlooking the departure gates behind the glass wall.
He saw her.
Lara.
She was in the arms of another man, Reagan. The man who stood by her when Lucas pushed her away. The man who saw her worth when Lucas was too blind to even try. The man who earned her trust, her smile, her love… everything Lucas never truly cherished when he had the chance.
Lucas couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He just stared at them, a bittersweet smile forming on his lips.
This was what she deserved.
Love.
The kind she gave so freely. The kind he never gave back.
He stood there for a while, watching, holding on to the ache in his chest like it was the only thing still tethering him to her.
Then he turned around.
And walked away.
Because some things, once broken, are not meant to be mended.
Some people are not meant to come back.
Some endings are meant to hurt.
And Lucas, the man who once wished to be free of his wife, now carried the quiet, aching burden of a love too late.
A love undeserved.
A love that was lost…
... long before he ever called her his.
Lara was once the unwanted wife—but in the end, it was Lucas who became the man most unwanted by the only heart that ever wanted him.
END.