ONE YEAR AGO.
Carina was finally graduating from elementary school. On the way to the school ceremony, she was accompanied by Aling Marietta, her son Jake, and Carina’s younger brother, Cyprus. A bittersweet expression lingered on her face—joyful for this milestone, yet sorrowful that her mother, Cherry, wasn’t there to witness it.
"This is for you, Mama," Carina whispered softly, her eyes closed as she took a deep breath.
Aling Marietta noticed immediately and asked with gentle concern, “Are you alright, dear?”
“I’m okay, Tita Marietta,” she replied with a faint smile.
Moments later, they arrived at the school where both Carina and Cyprus studied. Guests for the ceremony had begun to gather.
As Carina received her medal for being salutatorian, her mother sat quietly in a secluded corner of the school grounds, eyes fixed on a photograph in her hands.
Cherry sat on an old bench, nearly hidden by overgrown grass. In her hands, she clutched an aged photo—a picture of her two children. She had stared at it countless times, but with every glance, the weight in her heart seemed to grow heavier.
Mrs. Dominguez, her psychologist, approached silently and took a seat beside her. She didn’t rush to speak, choosing instead to let Cherry break the silence.
“I’ve been here so long,” Cherry finally said, eyes still locked on the photo. “A year has passed, but it feels like nothing has changed.”
“Sometimes, the changes aren’t obvious right away,” Mrs. Dominguez responded gently, her voice filled with compassion. “But you’ve taken steps forward, Cherry. You just haven’t noticed them yet.”
Cherry fell silent again. She wiped the corner of her eye, trying to hold back tears. “Sometimes I wonder... if I can ever return to them. Maybe it’s better if I don’t. Maybe they’re happier without me.”
Mrs. Dominguez glanced at the photograph, then looked back at her. “I’ve seen how hard you’ve fought this past year. What you’re going through isn’t easy. But every single day you wake up, every hour you choose to stay here—that’s proof that you still matter.”
Cherry took a deep breath, averting her eyes. “But... what if everything goes back to how it was? What if I can’t protect them from me?”
Mrs. Dominguez gently took Cherry’s hand—an action light yet full of emotion. “The hardest battles are the ones we fight within ourselves. But that doesn’t mean there’s no hope. What matters now is that you’re still here—fighting for them, and for yourself. You don’t have to be perfect, Cherry. All they need is you—your true self.”
Cherry sat still, letting each word sink in. She felt the warmth of the sun on her skin, but more than that, she felt a small weight lift from her chest.
“Do you think,” she asked quietly, “I’ll be okay?”
Mrs. Dominguez smiled—one full of trust and hope. “Yes, Cherry. You’ll be okay. Not today, and not instantly. But you will be. And every step you take from here, I’ll be with you.”
Cherry looked at the photo again, and this time, something had shifted. It didn’t feel quite as heavy.
Days later, Cherry sat in the therapy room, quietly listening as she and Mrs. Dominguez talked about the small steps toward her gradual healing. In front of her was a journal Mrs. Dominguez had suggested she begin. Cherry held the pen, but the page remained blank.
“The first step is always the hardest,” said Mrs. Dominguez, offering her a patient smile as she waited for Cherry to speak.
Cherry stared at the blank page, breathing deeply. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Sometimes the smallest step is enough,” replied Mrs. Dominguez. “You don’t have to write it perfectly. Just write whatever’s in your mind.”
Silence stretched between them. Cherry inhaled slowly, then let a few words form.
“It feels like... if I start writing, I’m acknowledging all the pain.”
“And that’s the first step to healing,” Mrs. Dominguez said. “You have to face the pain—not to stay in it, but to learn how to rise from it.”
Cherry sighed, but opened the journal and began to write. The words came slowly, like easing a heavy burden from her chest.
“Every day, I ask myself if I still matter. If I’ll ever be who I once was. This feeling is exhausting—like I’m trapped in a dark hole with no way out. But here I am, still trying. Even if it’s just a small step. I don’t know how far I’ll get, but maybe... this is enough for now.”
She paused after writing those lines, almost in disbelief that she had let them out. A quiet relief settled over her shoulders.
“That’s beautiful, Cherry,” Mrs. Dominguez said, her eyes filled with admiration. “That’s enough for today.”
Cherry smiled—a faint, barely visible smile, but a smile nonetheless. For the first time, she felt a sliver of light finally making its way into the dark corners of her mind.
“Thank you,” she whispered—not just to Mrs. Dominguez, but to herself. For choosing to keep going, despite everything.
“Just keep going, Cherry. Keep going,” Mrs. Dominguez replied, smiling warmly. “Every wound has its time, and the day will come when it won’t hurt the way it used to.”
Cherry nodded, and for the first time, Mrs. Dominguez’s words didn’t seem so impossible.
Cherry stayed for another five months until she was finally discharged. That was how eager she had become—to see her children again.
In the living room, Jared sat on the couch reviewing some paperwork for the business. He was busy, but his focus was slipping. Feliza entered from the kitchen, carrying two mugs of coffee. Dressed casually in a T-shirt and shorts, her hair tied in a ponytail, her smile was a constant source of comfort for Jared.
“You’re working again,” Feliza teased as she handed him a mug. “You always get lost in your tasks. We should take a break, you know.”
Jared smiled as he accepted the coffee. “Yeah, you know me. I just want to finish everything I need for tomorrow.”
Feliza sat beside him, wrapped an arm around his, and leaned her head on his shoulder. “You’ve been working too hard lately. I miss spending time with you.”
Jared exhaled deeply and closed the folder on his lap. “Alright, alright. I get it. What do you want to do?”
Feliza raised her brows playfully, thinking. “Hmm, how about a movie? Or... maybe something more fun?” Her voice carried a mischievous tone as she lightly brushed his arm.
Jared chuckled, catching on. “And what exactly is ‘more fun’?”
She grinned, holding his face and making him look into her eyes. “How about this?”
Feliza leaned in and kissed Jared—softly at first, then deeper. Jared felt her warmth envelop him as his hand caressed her arm and gently pulled her closer. She paused for a breath, eyes twinkling as she smiled at him.
“You’re getting good at this, you know,” she teased.
“I don’t need practice,” Jared replied, kissing her again, this time more intensely. His hand moved to her lower back, firm yet tender, as if he wanted to feel every second with her.
Their kisses deepened, but then Jared paused and whispered, “You know, I don’t know how I got this lucky. But I’m glad I did.”
Feliza smiled, brushing his cheek. “You’re not the only lucky one. I love you, Jared.”
“I love you, too,” he replied, and kissed her again—longer, deeper.
In that moment, everything else faded—the work, the worries, even Cherry, who had once occupied his thoughts.
After their passionate kiss, Jared sighed, tilted his head, and smiled slightly at Feliza. His fingers gently traced her back, as though unwilling to let the moment end.
“You know,” Jared said, still gazing at her, “I never thought I’d move on this fast. It’s like... everything just fell into place when I met you.”
Feliza felt a stir of curiosity, her smile laced with a hint of seriousness. “Is this about your past? That girl from the Philippines?”
Jared’s expression shifted slightly, but he remained composed. The name “Cherry” no longer carried the same weight it once did. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Her name is Cherry. I used to think she was the one. But… things didn’t turn out the way I thought they would.”
Feliza adjusted her posture, subtly leaning back to better see his face. “What happened?”
Jared let out a long breath before beginning. “It was complicated. A lot was going on with my family… my parents, they were always interfering with my life. And Cherry—she had her own battles, things I couldn’t control or fix. I tried, I really did. But in the end, it wasn’t enough. So I left. I thought maybe putting distance between me and everything would help me breathe. And then I met you.”
Feliza remained quiet for a moment, gently running her fingers over Jared’s hand as a gesture of support. “I’m glad you did. But… do you still think about her? I mean, I just want to understand where I stand in your life.”
Jared smiled and reached for Feliza’s face, giving her cheek a soft pinch. “You don’t have to worry about that. You’re my life now. Cherry belongs to the past, and I’ve let her go. You’re already part of everything I’m building—this life, this business, and everything in between.”
A wave of relief passed across Feliza’s face. She smiled, a glint of playful mischief returning to her eyes. “Good, because I don’t share.”
Jared laughed. “You won’t have to.”
Silence settled between them, but this time, it wasn’t heavy. Feliza watched quietly as Jared toyed with strands of her hair, both of them feeling the unspoken truth—that despite everything they had been through, they had found each other.
“Let’s go out tonight,” Feliza said suddenly, breaking the stillness. “We deserve a break. Just the two of us.”
Jared smiled and nodded. “Sure. Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know yet,” she replied teasingly. “But somewhere romantic. You owe me that.”
“I guess I do,” Jared said, rising from the couch and helping Feliza to her feet. “Let’s make this night ours.”
Hand in hand, they stepped out of the house, ready to leave the weight of the past behind and face a new beginning together.
Carina was deeply engrossed in a book, her eyes scanning each page with intensity. She was halfway through a suspenseful science fiction novel titled Secrets of the Last City by Scarlet Eyes, and the story had her fully captivated. Meanwhile, Cyprus sat across the room, fixated on his laptop as he played a game app with full concentration.
Suddenly, a knock echoed on their bedroom door. It was Aling Marietta. Cyprus immediately rose and opened it.
“What is it, Tita Marietta?” Cyprus asked without hesitation.
“There’s a visitor waiting for you both in the living room. Hurry, come on.” The woman’s voice was brisk, but the wide smile stretching across her face caught them both off guard.