Who really paid for this love story: Chiz Escudero and Heart Evangelista? Because how can a man with P18 million in declared assets drop P58 million on a ring, if, indeed, the estimates were true? You’re either in debt or in deep denial.

Who whispered in Chiz’s ear that it was “romantic” to go bankrupt for love? Did he sell a kidney? His dignity?

And did Heart ever, for a second, pause to reconcile the turquoise Paraiba bauble with his balance sheet? How many laws of economics were broken that day in the name of romance?

She squealed — high-pitched, pig-like, cinematic squeal. The camera caught it. Made sure we all caught it. And Chiz? Poker face, legs crossed, champagne, pretending this is normal. Pretending he can afford it.

Doesn’t matter, Heart. Sweet, innocent Heart. Love is blind. Apparently, so is math.

Because isn’t that the unspoken etiquette of glamour? You accept, smile, thank the universe — but you do not, do not, ask too many questions. “He’s charming, I love him, whatever, I’ll figure it out later”?

Heart, what are you doing? How do you accept it with grace? Grace is easy when the price tag is enormous and the mystery is bigger.

You’re wearing a symbol of love that should mean partnership, devotion, shared fortune, financial literacy. Instead, it’s a monument to what? Come on. And what does it say about him, and maybe… a little about you?

Unbelievable SALN from an unbelievable man. Consistent about his inconsistencies. Hire his auditor if you want miracles.

You know, they call him the poorest senator — with the audacity to look broke while reportedly wearing a Patek. Nobody hides, what, a P6-million watch under an P18-million SALN.

Nobody’s ever been this broke and this shiny at the same time.

You see the watches, the suits, the “sponsored” fancy wedding on Balesin, the alleged real estate. And then you check the cars. He declared them, yes. Vintage luxury. You can tell a man’s lying when his car is older than his declared fortune. It’s like watching a magician pull a poor man out of a Mercedes.

And he tells us, “No, no, I’m honest. Friends gave me gifts.” Including a P30-million donation from a “friend,” naturally. Always a “friend.” Sure — if by friends you mean people waiting for a return on investment.

We have friends, too. They buy us lunch. They don’t fund elections. You cannot claim “self-made” when someone else foots the bill. No one keeps friends that rich and stays that poor.

This guy has more explanations than assets. Every time he talks, his net worth drops another million. If you have it, you show it. Pretending is what the poor do.

The problem with sharing everything, Chiz, is that honesty breeds trust. Declare everything, and you don’t have to explain why your ring costs three times your net worth.

Unless, of course, it’s all bluff. Unless every flashy watch, designer suit, every P58-million ring — none of it belongs to you. People respect wealth they see; people scrutinize wealth they don’t.

If it’s yours, you’re untouchable.