Happy to have “struck down” the most beautiful girl in the company, I panicked and ran away when I got close to her

The quiet room in a hotel on Makati Avenue. Althea stood in front of the window, silently turned her back, then suddenly pulled down her skirt zipper. I was speechless.

There was no one in the office in BGC, Taguig who did not know Althea — the most beautiful girl in the sales department. And she was also the one who made my heart beat faster during the 3 years I worked here. That was understandable: Althea had a delicate face, a sexy figure, spoke intelligently, and her eyes were both sweet and mysterious. She was like a glass of red wine — the more you interacted with her, the more intoxicating you became.

As for me — Paolo, the head of the design team — I was dry, boring, with nothing outstanding except for neat designs and an old laptop. But after working on a big project with Althea, our relationship began to change.

Althea took the initiative to ask me more questions, shared trivial things, and occasionally invited me to lunch or coffee after work at Bonifacio High Street. She kept appearing in my mind, gently and without warning, and then occupied my thoughts without me knowing.

Then one night, after a project success party at a rooftop bar in BGC, everything seemed to reach a climax. Althea wore a tight red dress, standing out so much that she seemed to be the only one in the room. When the alcohol was a bit much, Althea leaned towards me, whispering in my ear:

— Do you want to go somewhere with me?

I nodded without thinking. When the taxi stopped in front of a hotel in Makati, I was almost speechless. She took my hand and pulled me in very firmly, without hesitation.

I was no longer me. In my head was a series of scenarios filled with victory: an ordinary man like me was about to be close to a woman that many people desired.

The room was quiet. Althea stood in front of the window, silently turning her back, pulling down her skirt zipper. I was stunned.

Not because of the sexy scene as I imagined, but because…

The scars were clearly visible on her back: long, deep, dark. Some looked like they had been burned, some like they had been inflicted by sharp objects. My heart felt like it was being squeezed.

Althea did not turn around, but said softly, her voice trembling:

— Are you afraid?

I did not answer. I turned away, hurriedly leaving the room like a coward. I had run away.

Not because I was afraid of her, but because I was afraid of myself: afraid of the shallow psychology of conquest, afraid of the superficial feelings I had just imposed on her. Althea was not a trophy. She was a woman — and behind that radiant appearance there was probably a great, silent wound.

I avoided Althea for a week. But the image of that scarred back haunted me — not because it was ugly, but because it told a story that had never been told.

Finally, I went to see her one rainy afternoon at the BGC office. Althea was sitting in the small conference room, looking out the frosted glass. I placed a light blue scarf on the table—her favorite color—with a note:

I’m sorry. If you’re willing, give me a chance to start over—not from a whim, but from the truth about you. I want to know everything, if you’ll let me.

Althea said nothing. But that afternoon, she texted me to meet her at a café near her office on High Street. For the first time, Althea told me about her past, which she had kept hidden for years.

Three years ago, Althea had lived with a man nearly ten years her senior. At first, he had been kind, indulgent, and had assumed the guise of a “grown man.” But within a few months, Althea had become controlling, jealous, insulted—and then abused.

At first it was just a few slaps. Then an ashtray, or anything he could get his hands on. She was hospitalized at Makati Medical Center for chest trauma and deep burns on her back. But out of fear and shame, she lied to her friends and hid everything from her family. It was only when a friend found out and reported the matter to the Barangay and the police that Althea was able to leave, carrying both physical and mental scars. She moved from Cebu to Metro Manila, started over, and never let anyone in too deeply into her world again.

But I was an exception. Althea said that she felt that I was honest and gentle; she felt safe with me. That was why she wanted to show me the scars on her back, wanted to tell me everything about her past — but then I disappointed her.

After a moment of silence, I spoke up:

— Thank you for trusting me and telling me. I’m sorry for running away that night. Actually, when I entered the hotel, I felt triumphant because I thought I was about to be close to the prettiest girl in the company. But when he saw the scars, he understood that she had gone through a very painful past, and he was ashamed of his previous thoughts. Not knowing how to face it, he ran away.

Althea did not cry, but her eyes were wet. I gathered all my courage, hugged Althea, and asked her to give me a chance to care, to care, to love, and to make up for it. She did not say anything more, just leaned her head on my shoulder — quietly, peacefully.

From that day on, we were no longer in a hurry. I learned to love her with patience and understanding; and Althea learned to believe that the past does not define the future. We did not start with a hot night, but with a gentle hug — enough to heal. And that was enough for a beautiful beginning in the bustling Makati – BGC