Because he stopped loving her that day.

***

Finally, the priest came out and asked everyone to stand. All eyes would soon be on her mom. The flower girl lined the path with white rose petals as the music started. Ana escorted her mother down the aisle, which seemed longer than before. She became her mother's strength against her wobbly legs. They had always been each other's anchors in life. Soon, the guests looked at them and took pictures of her mother's wedding dress, waving at them, smiling. Up ahead, Ana saw him, staring at her mother with wide loving eyes, Evan. Her mother's future husband. The only man that her mother loved after a long time, and the man who stood as her father for three long years. His sudden appearance in their life back then held a lot of mystery but Ana never questioned it. Perhaps it's because she's kind-too kind as her friends always said.

When the wedding was over, Ana's eyes were glued to her new family. It was a new beginning and she knew exactly what present to give them.

***

Miranda squinted her eyes as she gazed at the laptop screen. She then turned to her right and murmured to her friend, "Of all the houses, you picked the one with a painful pitch?"

Ana chuckled. "It's a gift for my newlywed parents."

"And this is the best you could find? A house for sale with the reason, He stopped loving her that day?"

"I don't know. There's something about the house. Not to mention, it's within my budget. And one more thing, fully furnished," Ana said with a wink, then added, "Everything inside comes with the house when bought."

"Why does it have to be a house? You could get them something cheaper, you know." Miranda suggested as she clicked on the photos that Ana had been gazing at in the previous hours.

"I promised my mom." Was all Ana answered as she grabbed the mouse from Miranda's hand and continued to peruse the posted images. True, a house was truly over and beyond. But her mother had done a lot of things for her and even sacrificed her own happiness just so she could graduate and have a better life. Now that she had become one of the best designers in the country, it wouldn't hurt to give back to her mother.

"Well, I may not be a fan of the whole stop-loving thing but the house is gorgeous," Miranda chided, prying Ana's mind from her silent melancholy.

"Yeah," Ana answered as her eyes took in the images before them.

It was a brown two-story house surrounded by an overgrown garden. But despite the complicated and directionless shrubs and grass, they were able to discern that some of the flowers that stuck out from the verdant blades were rare. In one photo they even saw a fire lily and chocolate cosmos. When they clicked on the next button, they were presented with a side image of the house. On its walls were trellis with flowering Clematis vines that crawled like a beautiful carpet up the wooden walls. A few photos of the house's interior were also posted. The floor was lined with varnished wood and the furniture inside was clad in hues that gave a beautiful harmony to the design, captivating both women.

The ceiling held numerous chasms that seemed to hold small light bulbs. But what truly left the two with their jaw-dropping was the mural on the ceiling. It was the perfect depiction of a sunset that washed over a calm-looking lake. The contrast between the orange, purple, white, and brown hues harmonized as if the painter was looking at an ongoing sunset as his hands stroked the brush over the ceiling.

Miranda cleared her throat and then whispered to Ana, "I'd buy this house if you won't."

***

It was a Tuesday morning when the two decided to drive to the outskirts of a small town located at least 300 miles away from their apartments. Both were lucky to have been given a few days' vacation from their work and they used that to finally visit the house that captivated their hearts and minds.

"Are you sure you made an appointment with the realtor?" Miranda asked as she veered the car to her left.

Ana smiled at her, bobbed her head, and answered, "Yes. Besides the realtor said were the only ones who gave that house a chance. So she's more than happy to give us a tour."

"Alright."

It took them a few hours before their car came to a stop in front of a narrow dirt road with an array of perfectly aligned mahogany trees on both sides. The base of the trees was covered with woody perennials that Ana identified as Creeping Thyme, which was perhaps the reason for the minty scent in the air. They blanketed the ground obscuring almost half of the tree's base and crept from the bottom of the first tree to the last.

As her friend positioned the car to enter the premises Ana perceived that the dirt road in front of them was about 100 meters long, and to the edge, she was able to discern a high metal-made brown gate. Beyond the gate, she saw the familiar roof that convinced her friend to drive for hours.

"Okay. This wasn't shown in the photos but this place looks grand, grand, grand. Why the hell would one sell this at a very cheap price? Surely, there's a catch." Miranda muttered as she turned to look at Ana.

"Perhaps, because it's on the outskirts and far from the city?"

Her friend looked at her as if she had dropped her brain somewhere, then yelled, "30,000 for a place this big doesn't sound right, Ana. I think we should leave."

"No! I found this deal through a family friend. She said the realtor is a close relative. The house is far from the city that's all. Besides, I'm desperate. I promised my mom. Let's check the place. We're already here anyway."

"Doesn't sound normal to me," Miranda complained, shaking her head as she stepped on the gas, propelling the vehicle forward.

When they reached the gate, a car was already parked inside. It was a red convertible with a woman standing near the hood. When the person noticed their car, she walked towards the gates and opened it for them. Not long after, Ana and her friend were shaking hands with a spectacled woman, adorned with chocolate-colored, waist-length hair. She looked close to their age which was perhaps the reason why Miranda's recently felt apprehension vanished.

And when the pleasantries ended, Ana was finally given a chance to take in the beauty of the place. Just as the images had shown, the front lawn looked euphoric, and thankfully, some of the high-rising shrubs and grass had been cut down. Its absence gave the lawn an even more eye-catching scenery.

"Well, let's start the tour, shall we?" The realtor murmured as she beckoned for them to follow her. She first led them to a corner in front of the house and said, "Over there, see those beds? They are filled with rare flowers that seem to miraculously thrive despite the weather here. But the true beauty in that spot is not the flowers themselves. It's the ground beneath it. At some point, the couple must have filled that with fertile compost. I have no idea what they used. But you can plant anything there and it will bloom."

The woman paused for a moment, took off her spectacles, and wiped the sweat that accumulated on the side of her eyes before she continued to say, "White picket fences used to surround the flower beds but they got destroyed when the owner stopped tending them."

After that, she guided them towards the other corner of the front lawn and then pointed at a group of trees.

"Over there, see that tree?" She murmured as she pointed a finger towards one that stood far from the group that created a verdant canopy over the plants below.

"Its bark; like all other trees is brown and has a jagged feel to it. But what made that tree different than the rest? It's the two letters engraved on the trunk. At some point the couple who owned the house must have sat under the tree and shoved a knife into it, piercing the unsuspecting trunk to embrace a lasting memory. Two letters, M and E. They may seem out of place and others may see it as an intrusion but that's what made that plant unique and alluring. Because it beholds a memory-a majestic and beautiful memory.

Ana cleared her throat when the realtor finished her speech and then asked, "Where are the couple now?"

The woman first answered her with a smile, a smile that Ana perceived to be fake because it seemed forced and sad. Not to mention, she also noticed a glistening in the corner of the woman's eyes. Then the woman whispered, "We'll get to that when we enter the house."

The three of them moved forward with haste towards the main door, but before any of them could step inside, the realtor turned to Ana and said, "Careful with the stairs, I've been a victim of it more than once."

"What do you mean?" she questioned as she gazed at the five flights of steps that led up to the main door.

"Well, the one in the middle is about 2mm higher than the rest. That was a miscalculation on the part of the master of the house when he added them to the original plan of the house. It could cause someone to trip."

Miranda and Ana gazed at each other smiling, and as if wanting to test what the woman said, they both ascended the stairs with urgency, and as predicted one of them strumbled.

"That was. weird!" Miranda murmured, giggling as she got to her feet.

"It's not. It's mathematically proven actually. " The realtor answered as she pulled a set of keys from her pocket.

When the two abandoned their amusement on the steps, they finally looked at the realtor who already had the main door open. She then ran a hand over the door and said, "This door was built from one of the mahogany trees you passed by earlier. It's a very sturdy wood."

"Tree? You mean the ones beside the dirt road?"

"Yes, those."

"So those trees had been there before the house was built?" Ana asked curiously.

The realtor smiled at her and retorted, "Yes. This land belonged to Mina's family and she inherited it after she got married."

"Mina?"

"The owner. She built this house with her husband Evan. She chose the perfect wood and furniture with careful attention. She wanted this heaven of them to last a lifetime."

Out of everything the realtor said at that moment, one word caught Ana's attention. But whatever question that coursed through her head, she kept to herself. Besides, it could only be a coincidence.

The realtor then stepped to the side giving the two of them enough space to pass through and a second later, Ana and her friend were staring at the ceiling that captivated their eyes.

"That mural was painted by Mina herself."

The two women instantly brought their heads down and with wide eyes stared at the realtor, asking, "She painted that?"

"Dot be surprised. She was a promising painter before she met her husband. But out of love and the sudden coming of a child in her first year of marriage, she gave up on her dream."

"Wow." That was all the two women said as the realtor guided them toward the center of the living room. There, laid a spiral staircase, and just as all the other things inside the house, it too was made of mahogany.

At that moment the realtor asked them to continue upstairs first before she guided them to the rest of the ground floor. Reasoning that it would be tiresome to go up and down the house. Ana agreed, but before the three of them ascended the stairs, she took in the image of the living room. There was a set of colorful couches that fitted perfectly with the floor and ceiling, resting in the middle of the room.

There were a lot of framed paintings hanging on all four walls. Some were of animals, others were landscapes but a majority of the paintings were of sunset or sunrise. Small counter tables were positioned on the corners of the room, and each had either a crystal, jade, and porcelain-made vase or animal figurines on top of it. At that moment, Ana couldn't help but run her thoughts through what Miranda said earlier. It was truly weird for the house and everything in it to only cost a few thousand dollars. The place looked bigger than she anticipated too, which only solidified Miranda's theory. There was a catch. The house couldn't be sold at such low monetary value.

"Are you coming or not?"

Miranda's voice, guided Ana out of her musings. And when she turned to look at her friend, the woman was already halfway through the staircase. So Ana took to her feet and ran up. When they got to the top, they were immediately presented with two portraits. One was a young woman, in her early teens and the other was another woman who was perhaps in her late forties. But no matter how they looked at it, it was clear that both women were the same person, only photographed at different stages of life. She had curly brown hair, big eyes fanned with long lashes, and a very pouty lip. Her cheekbones were pronounced and her nose was shaped perfectly too. The woman looked aristocratic with her porcelain-looking skin and snobbish aura.

"That's Mina. Lovely isn't she? Who'd think a man would ever break her heart."

It was Miranda who questioned the realtor with, "Who broke her heart?"

"Well, Mina only loved and valued two people in her life, one was her daughter and the other was her husband."

"It's the guy wasn't it," Ana playfully asked. But the realtor did not respond. The woman instead walked forward, towards a room that Ana; who was trudging behind, perceived as the master's bedroom.

When the woman opened the door and asked the two of them to enter, Ana noticed a shift in the woman's image. The smile she had was no longer there and was replaced with something keen to hate. But Ana shrugged that off and stepped inside nonetheless, with Miranda tugging along.

The first thing that caught Ana's attention was the scent of the room. It smelled like detergent and alcohol. But there was also a hint of something close to a rusty scent that wafted by their noses. As Ana perused her surroundings she perceived that the bedroom was huge and filled with the same paintings as those in the living room. The floor looked pristine with its shiny wooden boards. There was a bed in the middle with four posts that had strings attached to them crossing from one to the other. Hanging in the strings was a white sheer curtain that had flowers embroidered on them. The bed looked like those she had seen in castles and old houses.

When the realtor cleared her throat, that's when Ana turned her attention back to the woman.

"Over there, that's the master's bed. That bed is where Mina used to lay lovingly with her husband and that's perhaps, where their only child was conceived. Right here, on this spot, I'm standing on. This is where Mina stood, when from that window," she whispered, as she pointed at an arch-shaped glass-covered aperture —her husband asked for a divorce. Proclaiming that he had met someone new.

When the woman said that. The other two looked at each other. It was Ana who first spoke. "You don't have to go that deep into details. We're happy just by..."

But she wasn't given a chance to talk further because the realtor had cut her off when she said, "Over here," as she opened a small door to the right wall, "This is where Mina spent a night crying. That spot right there," the woman continued as she pointed on the tile near the bathtub, "That's where she curled into a ball fighting the tears and heartache that killed her inside when he tore her world apart.

By then, both Miranda and Ana had held on to each other. There was something about how the woman spoke the words that came out of her mouth. There was a bitterness in her tone which caused a chill to run down their spine.

As they stood in the middle of the room, frozen, the realtor walked over to the door, smiled at them, and said, "Let's check the kitchen."

Although scared and already on the verge of running. Ana and her friend decided not to show the other woman how panicked they were. They followed her out of the room to run for the main door once they were on the ground floor. But surprise ate their plans when the realtor pulled out a gun from her pocket, pointed it in their direction, and said, "The two of you step to the front. I will walk behind you guys. If you try to run. I will end your lives."

Perhaps it was due to shock but the two women abided and descended the stairs with legs wobbling like a newborn deer. When they got to the bottom of the staircase, the woman from behind them pushed them both to turn to their left and walk over to the kitchen.

It was Ana who first stepped inside. She immediately caught the scent of blood in the air. That smell made her spin around to face Miranda who was only an inch away from the muzzle of the gun held by the realtor.

"What's that smell?" Ana courageously asked, despite knowing what the answer would be.

But the realtor did not respond. She instead pushed Miranda inside the kitchen and without batting an eyelash said to Ana, "Over there, just beside the kitchen counter, that's where she knelt and held on to her husband's jeans, crying, begging, groveling for him not to leave her.

The realtor pointed at the fridge and mumbled. "Right inside that, that's where she used to keep the freshly squeezed orange juice her husband loved so much. She spends hours every morning just to make them. She would meticulously remove any pulp that came through the squeezer just so her husband wouldn't have a problem drinking them. See, the man was sensitive to a lot of things, pulps were one of them. Throughout their married life, she made sure to fix whatever made him uncomfortable. She treated him like a king.

"W-Why are you doing this? Who are you?" Ana questioned, her shaky voice resounding inside the kitchen like a hauntingly beautiful melody.

But the woman ignored her and went on to say, "Over there, right across the table. That's where she once again knelt to beg her husband for another chance. She even went as far as threatening him that she would take their daughter's life if he left. But the man refused to listen. Evan said that he was about to have another daughter anyway, so he told her to go ahead and end their daughter's life."

"E-Evan. Are you talking about..."

"Shut up!" The realtor screamed at Ana. "Open that cupboard and take the cuffs out. I want the two of you to cuff yourselves to each other."

"P-Please do... don't do this," Miranda begged. Her eyes were by then dripping with tears and Ana could only curse herself mentally. She should have listened to Miranda earlier.

The realtor frowned at them and explained, "I have no intention of hurting either one of you. I simply want you to take the tour. If you behave until it's over. I'll let you go."

There was something in the way the woman said her words that made Ana feel as though she was sincere. So despite the raising of every hair in her body she bobbed her head, looked at Miranda, and nudged her friend to take the cuffs out of the cupboard.

"Are you insane?" Miranda whispered to her as the two of them walked over to the side of the dining table, past the kitchen counter, and towards the cupboard, the realtor pointed at.

Ana smiled at her friend and whispered back, "I don't think she means us any harm. Perhaps, she wants someone to listen. That's all." Ana was not someone who judges people and even if the pain gets really bad, she always gives people a chance.

"This naivety of yours is what got us into this, Ana."

"Hurry up! We still have a few more places to go." The realtor yelled at them and that got the two moving at lightning speed. Soon their hands were both cuffed and the woman had pushed them towards the back door.

When Ana stepped outside, the first thing that caught her attention was the verdant blanket on the back lawn. But unlike the front, the back only had grass on the ground, no shrubs or flower beds. What occupied it though were a single tree, a gazebo, and a fence that seemed to mark the end of the property.

Without warning, Ana and her friend were shoved to the ground by the relator, the woman then walked past them and screamed, "Over there, right by that fence, that's where the mistress of Mina's husband parked her car when she waited for him on the day of his departure from this house." The woman then glared at Ana and demanded, "Look at it, look at it!"

Ana, despite not having enough strength on her legs due to the fear that had already consumed her, slowly rose to her feet-with Miranda, barely present-rising along with her. She gazed at the fence the woman pointed at. There was nothing special about them, just a few planks painted in white. But there was one detail that caught Ana's attention. It was the hood of a Pajero protruding from a group of overgrown grass beyond the fence. Its body was half concealed, but Ana recognized the metal-made bull horn on the front of the hood because it was her who bought and glued it there. Right then, she understood everything. She was about to say something but the realtor spun to her heel, and faced Ana-gun still clutched in her hand. A single drop of tear fell from the woman's eyes before she said, "Over there, right on those steps you previously stood on, that's where she sat and begged the heavens and all those gods from mythology for help. That's where she fainted when she finally saw the face of her husband's mistress when they kissed each other before her eyes.

Ana was tongue-tied after that. She wasn't prepared for what was happening. She came there only intending to buy a house. But why had everything gone the way it did? She turned to look at her friend. Miranda had barely spoken a word since they cuffed themselves. It felt like her friend was too stunned and had turned into a zombie.

"Move!" Ana heard the relator command amidst her musings. And like an obedient dog, she did what was told. The woman guided her and her almost catatonic friend towards the gazebo. Stepping inside the structure, amidst her internal battles, Ana couldn't help but linger her eyes on the beautiful edifice. It was hexagonal and lay under the protective cover of the wide-trunked tree beside it. The roof was made of red-painted wood supported from the ground up by six wooden pillars that had flower carvings on them. The body had no walls, allowing a breeze to pass and play with the curtains that were hung to cover one side. There was a small pink couch inside with a square-shaped table before it. On the table lay a picture frame and it held a familiar face that almost knocked the living daylights out of her.

The realtor, with her gun still pointed at Ana, sat on the couch and whispered, "Over here, right on this chair was where she embroidered and sewed shirts for her husband. It was also here that she tried to hug him on the day he left. Right there, by the table, that's the only photo they have left. Everything was burned by her husband when he packed his things. He said he didn't want to leave behind anything that would connect her to him. Under the covers of that," the woman continued as she pointed at the tree with the widest trunk Ana had ever seen. "That's where she sat down and questioned herself. That's where she thought that perhaps if she was more like the other woman, he never would have left her. Under the shade of those branches and leaves was where she told herself that she wasn't enough. She was a failure and worn-out trash-just as her husband's mistress said she was.

Ana silently watched as the woman on the couch sobbed uncontrollably. Although she felt like shivering due to the gun that was still pointed at her, she felt a warm liquid cascade down her own cheek. The pain shown on the woman's face was something Ana had never seen before. It was like, the purest of pain. She looked hopeless as if all she could do was talk about Mina and what happened to her. The woman's face was scrunched up like that of a child who had just lost her balloon to the atmosphere. There was no hope, only longing.

At that moment Ana had an epiphany. Perhaps, the realtor was not who she claimed herself to be. And Ana knew exactly who she could be.

"Over there," the woman murmured as she sniffled a cry, pointing a finger at an area a meter away from the gazebo, "That spot where a patch of grass lay disturbed and colored in yellow. That's where she fell and crawled when her husband shoved her as she tried to grab his arm to stop him from leaving. That's where she fell asleep, welcoming the droplets of rain that poured from the heavens on the night he left her without mercy.

With Ana's heart still hammering like a thousand hooves were trotting on them, the realtor grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the tree; Miranda being dragged along due to the cuff that bound their hands together.

"Over here," the woman muttered, "Was where she laid a chair."

The woman then grabbed Ana's chin and tilted it to look at the branches of the tree. "Right on that branch, that's where she tied a rope, and after, she mounted the chair below, tied a noose around her neck, and jumped.

Ana's eyes widened at the sudden revelation and without so much as a breath, the woman pulled her arm again and forced her and Miranda to the other side of the tree.

When they rounded the wide trunked plant, Ana-who already had tears pouring like a thunderstorm-gasped in surprise. Because before them were two dirt beds. One looked old while the other seemed recently cultivated. They looked like the flower beds she saw earlier on the front lawn, but she knew they weren't due to the wooden cross that stood on the top of each. The older bed had a wide plank fastened to the cross with the words (Because he stopped loving her that day.)

The new one didn't bear an inscription, but there was a foreboding on the scene which made Ana speculate who it was. She slowly turned to the woman who stood behind them, looked her in the eye, and asked, "Is that my..."

"Your? There is nothing you could call yours in this place. Tell your mother, Mina's daughter says hi." And with that, the woman slowly turned away from Ana-who at that moment was attached to Miranda's arm like a wounded cat, unable to let go or form a word.

With a final glance the woman left her the words, "If your mother happens to wonder where my father had gone, tell her, he is exactly where he should be, beside his true wife.

A key was thrown at Ana's face before she and Miranda were left alone by the woman. And when she finally freed herself from the arm of her friend, she instantly fell to the ground, sobbed, and cursed her stepfather. With shaky hands, she pulled out the phone from her pocket and dialed her mother's number. As the ringing echoed through her phone's speaker, Ana knew she would never look at her mother the same way.

So when a "hello," was said on the other line, Ana whispered, "Mom, are you familiar with the two-story house on the outskirts of a place called Santa Peralta?"

A gasp answered Ana, followed by the words, "Oh, my God! Ana, what are you doing there? Honey, let me explain."

Those words were enough for Ana and with her heart breaking for a family she recently knew existed, she murmured, "No need. I just received a grand tour of what happened, and
I may not have met her in person, but I believe, I was just introduced to the woman we murdered.