// 16 March 2018 - Manila, Philippines //
I was so attached to Anthony that the harder I missed him, the more I was scared to lose him.
That thought made perfectly clear to me as I looked at a photo of a light-haired woman with a young boy nestling in her arms, his golden hair and marine eyes revealing he is the split image of his father—Anthony.
The photo was part of the folder from Nick, which I managed to bring home after the confrontation. Piled in there were the evidences about Anthony. About his criminal record of robbing a grocery store, his marriage background and everthing else that comes with it. They were all superbly detailed. Yvonne must have paid Nick very well.
It’s pointless to wish now that I could have probed right from the very start, when I haven’t completely welcomed Anthony in my life yet. Not once did it ever occur to me that I would be the other woman of a married man.
Unmistakably, I am that, because Anthony is still in a marriage. This, for sure, could have ultimately killed my father if he was still alive.
At this moment, I began to question my moral compass. I am uncertain if I should end my relationship with Anthony now and bury it all deep in a place where they could never be recovered.
Penny, Anthony’s estranged wife, according to the papers, is no longer living with Anthony. They are not legally separated, but Penny has the boy in her custody, and has been living with a different man named Arthur.
As I turned a page after another, I tried to understand why Anthony hid the secret from me. One way or another, I also felt betrayed. It felt like a cancer spreading quickly in my body.

I held another photo, this time showing only Anthony Jr. leaving a what seemed to be a public school. His Superman backpack appeared much bigger than his body. He did look like mini Anthony in those navy-blue pants and striped t-shirt. But the kid’s eyes… they revealed a different facade of story, and I wondered how Penny was treating him.
There’s no denying that I tried to picture myself with Anthony and the kid as though we’re a conventional family. I could almost pretend nothing had bothered me. What a lovely picture it must have been but reality pulled in and I’m back to that daunting thought that I didn’t know what else to do. I felt like a castaway who is adrift, letting the current take me to wherever it leads me. I was afraid of where I would end up if I don’t’ make wise choices now.
That instant, I was flashed back to the priest’s preaching when I slipped into a local church for a service. That was weeks ago. An Ash Wednesday and also a Valentine’s Day.
Crystal clear, I remember some parts of the sermon. “Love is generous,” the priest said. “Some say on Valentine’s Day that we must love until it hurts. But Ash Wednesday says we must love until it no longer hurts.” He ended his speech with, “Let us shift our gaze from Cupid with bow and arrow to Christ on the cross. True love is about forgiveness and sacrifice.”
Those words made me reflect for another moment. Forgiveness and sacrifice were not easy to handle. I may face adversity from the people around me. But I guess, it is possible to forgive, to commit and reconstruct.
***
// About a week later - Sydney, Australia //
It is autumn here in Sydney, the mildest time of the year according to the morning broadcaster before I left the hotel near The Rocks.
As I walked to a bench in the harbor, and the Opera House just before my eyes and people passing by, I mulled over my decision to see Anthony and what our future could be.
In my hand was a ticket to BridgeClimb, wishing Anthony would forgive me for not returning his calls. I have been out of reach the entire time.
In the bench, I had plenty of time picturing my reunion with Anthony, and I prayed it would be easier than I imagined.
Anthony was in his jumpsuit when I saw him standing at the Climb Base, giving an orientation to a batch of tourists who seemed nervous and excited. I couldn’t count the times I smiled as I watched Anthony talk. I missed him insanely hard. And I longed so much for his kiss.
I didn’t use my ticket that day. Instead I was waiting at the other end of the bridge, waiting for Anthony to be done with his tour-guiding. When I finally saw him, I hurried to near him. I whispered my finest hello and died of joy the moment he smiled back at me.
“I’ve been missing you.” Straightaway, he collected me in his arms and planted a kiss. I shared the same excitement that I ignored the vapors of his sweat.
I didn’t know how long it was, or how many people passed us by, but his lips were sweeter this time. The reunion was more sensational than I imagined. It almost felt like we were walking by the harbor-side again, when he held me for the first time.