Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“Happy graduation, my baby!”

Naomi cheerfully greeted her daughter who had just graduated from kindergarten. The smile on her face was so wide, as if—despite it being only a kindergarten graduation—it felt like a huge achievement for a single mother like her.

The child was standing on a wooden chair, her arms wrapped around Naomi’s neck.

Naomi kissed her immediately and whispered, “Mommy has a surprise for you. Let’s go to the restaurant.”

“Is Daddy there already?” Ileana asked with a wide grin, the sparkle in her eyes obvious. From her tone alone, it was clear how excited she was just at the mention of her father.

Naomi’s smile almost faltered. Her daughter always spoke of her father. Whenever Naomi mentioned a surprise, Ileana would immediately think of him—as if her whole world revolved around that single word.

That longing only grew stronger after Ileana found a photograph in Naomi’s old wallet when she was just six years old. Naomi never expected that Marco had left behind a picture there. As far as she remembered, she had burned everything. She had left no memory of the man who caused her pain and heartbreak.

And because of Marco, she had lost her faith in love. Her trust had been shattered, and she never trusted any man again—except her father.

She had no choice but to tell Ileana everything. The child clung to that tiny 1x1 photo of Marco and pasted it into a family book her teacher had once asked her to make.

That photo was taken so long ago. If Marco were still alive, he would surely look different now. Six years had already passed. But none of that mattered anymore—he would never return. Naomi could not bring herself to tell Ileana that her father was dead.

It would break the child’s heart, so she let her believe that she would still meet him someday. And for a mother like her, it was more painful to see her daughter hoping for something that would never happen—but she believed it was better that way. One day, when Ileana was older, Naomi would explain everything. She knew her daughter would understand.

The accident happened a long time ago. That was how Marco died. What hurt the most was that her boyfriend left without a word. He was on his way to Manila at the time. Naomi wondered why he was going there, riding a motorcycle that had been detached from the sidecar of the tricycle he was driving.

He was only renting the tricycle by the day, and because Naomi knew that the widowed owner of the vehicle had feelings for Marco, she had entrusted him with the motorcycle.

Yes, Marco was a tricycle driver. He was in his first year of college when they met. They had been together for a year, and a month after they became intimate, the accident happened on a dangerous, winding road.

She was devastated. Other people claimed Marco’s body, and the police did not disclose their identities to her. They said it was confidential. She could do nothing because she had no right to insist. She did not know Marco’s family, who were from Manila. She assumed they were the ones who took his body.

Marco died without her knowing why he was going to Manila, and she did not even get to see him at his wake.

Naomi thought it was the end of everything for her. She lost all strength as she turned away from the police information desk, her hand resting on her stomach—where she had just learned a child was growing.

Confessing to her parents was not easy. Of course, her mother and father were angry. She was even called a failure. She was their only child, and yet she still made a mistake in life. She struggled to introduce Marco to them because he was embarrassed—he was just a driver. But because he was a driver, Naomi often rode for free whenever her father, a police officer, could not pick her up. Still, that was never the reason she fell in love with him. She was young, but she loved him for who he was. Marco was kind, sweet, clingy, and handsome.

He was probably the most handsome driver in all of Manila. Back then, no one would guess he was a driver—he looked more like a commercial model. Many women admired him, which became the cause of her jealousy and their frequent arguments. Yet Marco always remained patient. He would just laugh at her tantrums and jealousy, and that made her love him even more.

Little did she know, he would leave without a word—and then die in an accident.

Now, her child had no father.

“Nanay?”

Naomi snapped back to reality at the sound of Ileana’s small voice.

“You are sad, Nanay,” the child said. “Aren’t you proud of me?”

“What?” Naomi was alarmed. She immediately cupped her daughter’s small face in her hands.

“I’m very, very proud of you. You did so well. Come on, let’s go so you can see my surprise,” Naomi said, forcing a smile to hide the bitterness of memories that suddenly resurfaced.

One day, she would tell her daughter that her father would never come back. Just not now. Ileana would be deeply hurt when she learned the truth—that her father was gone and never even knew Naomi was pregnant.

Thankfully, her parents supported her, so she and her daughter lived comfortably. Ileana studied at a good private school. Their home was decent.

Her father gave them their own house. It was small, but worth millions. When Daniel retired from the police force at fifty-five, he did not forget her—even though she had once disappointed him. She made up for it and proved herself.

And she still made it.

“I thought Daddy was the surprise,” Ileana said as they headed home, riding in an SUV.

Her parents had come from the province specifically for Ileana’s graduation and upcoming birthday in June. Since it was also school vacation, they would be staying in Manila for a while.

Her mother, Daniela, smiled as she turned around. “Why? Aren’t you happy to see Grandpa and Grandma?”

Her mother was always sport about Marco. It was her father who could never let go of his anger toward the man, even though he was already dead.

“Your father drowned in soup, Yana,” her father said jokingly, making Naomi shake her head.

“Grandpa, you can’t drown in soup. Daddy is working so he can come home and we’ll have more money,” Ileana insisted, sounding so intelligent.

“James, don’t say things like that to our grandchild, even as a joke. She’s growing up. Let Naomi explain things to her in time,” Daniela scolded her husband.

“Alright, I’m sorry. I just can’t help myself.”

“Dad, it’s been seven years. It’s time to move on,” Naomi said with a smile—though she herself did not know if she had truly moved on.

Whenever Naomi looked at her daughter, she was always reminded of the past…