LOGIN“How are you feeling, my love?” Aaron’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he sat beside me on the bed. His hand reached for mine, warm and gentle, and he pressed a kiss on the back of my palm. His eyes met mine, full of concern and quiet sadness. I forced a small smile and nodded slowly. “Yes, I’m feeling a little better now,” I murmured, though even I could hear the uncertainty in my voice. Pero sa totoo lang, hindi pa talaga. Apektado pa rin ako—sa isip, sa puso, sa buong pagkatao ko. Hindi ko alam kung alin ang mas nangingibabaw sa akin ngayon: ang lungkot, ang sakit, o ang daan-daang tanong na wala namang kasagutan. Kahit na wala akong malinaw na alaala tungkol sa magulang ko, alam kong mahal ko sila. Somewhere deep inside, I feel that connection—yung hindi mo kailangang alalahanin para maramdaman. I know they cared for me, that they loved and protected me when I was still just a baby, fragile and innocent. Alam kong ginawa nila ang lahat para sa akin. Pero kahit gano’n, hin
Aunt Laura gently held both of my hands, squeezing them with warmth and care. Her eyes were soft, filled with something heavy — grief, maybe guilt, or both. “Hija,” she said quietly, her voice trembling, “I hope you’ll not hate your mother. She loves you. So much, more than you’ll ever know.”My throat tightened. I could only nod, taking a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t hate her, Auntie. It’s just…” I paused, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. “I can’t accept that she did that. But I understand — she’s still my mom, after all. And no matter what, I don’t want to keep bad thoughts or feelings about her.”Tumango si Aunt Laura, at bahagyang ngumiti, pero halatang pilit iyon. “Mabuti ‘yan, hija. Your mom loved you deeply. She just… got lost in her pain.” Then she sighed. “Do you want to see your mom’s paintings? Nandito pa ‘yung iba niyang gawa. Kaso ‘yung iba, wala na — either naibenta o naiwan sa lumang bahay.”Tahimik akong tumango kahit ramdam ko pa rin ‘yung bigat sa dibdib ko.
“Elora… we don’t want you to hate your mother. Sana ay hindi magbago ang tingin mo sa kaniya,” Aunt Laura said softly, her tone careful, as if she was walking on broken glass.My brows furrowed as I looked at both of them, confusion wrapping around me like a heavy fog. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, or why they were saying it. Why would my mother do that? All my life, I believed she died because of an illness. I pitied her so much, imagining her weak and in pain, yet still fighting. But now… now I was hearing that she chose to die?“But why? Why would she do that? Why would she…” My voice cracked, my throat tightening until I couldn’t speak anymore. Before I could even finish, I pressed my hands to my face and sobbed uncontrollably.“Your mother loved your father so much, Elora,” Aunt Susan said gently, her voice trembling with sadness. “She loved him so deeply that she chose to end her own life when she found out… that your father cheated on her.”Her words cut through
I glanced at Aaron who was driving the car. His left hand was on the steering wheel while his right hand was gently holding mine. Every now and then, he would lift my hand and place a soft kiss on it, like it was his way of telling me that everything’s going to be fine. The drive was calm. The sun was setting on the horizon, painting the sky with orange and pink hues. The air inside the car was quiet except for the faint music playing on the radio and the rhythmic sound of the car engine. We’re on our way to my family’s mansion. I’m going to have a talk with my Aunties—something I’ve been both anticipating and dreading. Aaron insisted on coming with me, not because he wanted to interfere, but because he wanted to make sure I was safe. He said he’d stay nearby and let me talk to them alone, but knowing he’s close gives me a sense of comfort I didn’t realize I needed. “Are you alright?” Aaron asked after a few moments of silence. He glanced at me, his eyes searching my face as if tr
Nanatili ang titig ko sa litrato ng aking Ina—isang lumang larawan na halatang pinaglumaan na ng panahon. The edges were slightly torn, the color fading, but still, I could clearly see her face. I only have this one picture of her. Isa lang ito, at galing pa kay Lola. She was the one who kept it for years, carefully tucked away inside an old album. Wala akong ibang picture ni Mommy, and this single photo has always been my only connection to her.I remember when I first asked my grandmother about my mom. Bata pa ako noon, curious, full of innocent questions. I still remember how her expression changed—how her eyes softened and her smile faded. She looked down for a few seconds, as if trying to gather her emotions before she spoke. Then she handed me this picture, saying, “Ito na lang ang tandaan mo, anak. ‘Yan ang mommy mo.”That memory stayed with me. She gave this picture to me so I could remember what my mother looked like, even if I never got to grow up beside her.We look alike—t
I had so much fun spending my dinner time with them. Marami akong mga nalaman na kaganapan sa pamilya na ni minsan ay hindi ko pa naririnig noon. The laughter around the table, the little stories, the teasing between uncles and aunties—it all felt like home. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this kind of warmth and familiarity, and being surrounded by them made me realize how much I truly missed this kind of atmosphere.It was fun, and at the same time, it felt peaceful having all of us together like this again. But then suddenly, a thought crossed my mind. If I didn’t lose my memories, maybe I would’ve experienced this more often. Siguro ay mas marami akong na-catch up sa kanila. Maybe I would have shared more memories, laughed more, and cried more with them. Pero ang totoo, maraming taon ang nasayang—mga taon na sana ay kasama ko sila, pero pinagkait sa amin ng tadhana.“How about your condition, hija? You are fully recovered, right?” tanong ni Auntie Rain, her eyes filled with both







