My child was sick and in need of money, I went to see my ex-husband, he threw away his torn shirt and chased me away, I checked and was shocked to see…
The summer rain poured down, pounding on the corrugated iron roof of the rickety rented room in Tondo, Manila, where my mother and I had been living for almost a year. My son Miguel lay curled up in a thin blanket, his body hot. Every time he coughed, my heart felt like someone was squeezing it.
“He has pneumonia, needs to be hospitalized immediately, prepare the hospital fees.” – the doctor at the private clinic shook his head after looking at the X-ray. “Delay is life-threatening.”
Hospital fees. Those two words were like a knife piercing my heart. I worked as an hourly maid in Manila, my salary was meager, my savings had run out after months of treating my child. I had no relatives left, my friends were also poor. I had borrowed from all the places I could, now there was no one to call.
Only… one person left.
My hands were shaking with cold and shame as I sat in front of the gate of my old house in Quezon City. This was the house of Daniel – my ex-husband. The man I had loved with all my heart, who had promised to be with me until the end of my life. But our marriage fell apart after 5 years, partly because of poverty, partly because of his growing indifference. After the divorce, I took my child, who was not yet 3 years old, and moved to Manila to make a living. Since then, Daniel had almost disappeared.
I rang the bell. A moment later, the door opened. He stood there, tall and thin, his eyes colder than before.
– “What are you doing here?” – His voice was indifferent, as if I were a stranger.
I suppressed my grievance and bowed my head:
– “Our child is seriously ill. I… I have no other choice. Please, help him just this once.”
Daniel was silent. A moment later, he turned away. I heard rustling in the house, then he came back, throwing out an old, worn-out coat:
“Take this and go. I have nothing to give you. And don’t ever come back.”
The coat fell to the ground, drenched in the rain. He slammed the door, not even bothering to look at me again.
I was stunned. Rain mixed with tears.
The secret in the torn coat
The next morning, I took the coat to wash and found an ATM card in my pocket. I took it to the bank to check. The staff confirmed it was true: the account was in Daniel’s name, and the current balance was 300,000 pesos. I couldn’t believe my ears.
I used the exact amount of money needed to hospitalize Miguel. He received emergency care, antibiotics, and oxygen. Thanks to the timely discovery, my child was out of danger after three days of treatment.
I didn’t dare call Daniel. I also did not return the card, even though I stood in front of his house many times, my hands clenched in my pockets. He said, “Don’t come back.” I didn’t want to break that promise. I understood that he did it to keep his distance from the past, but I knew clearly: the cold man that day was not heartless.
Bad news from Canada
A week later, Miguel was stable and could be discharged from the hospital. I bought a small bag of fruit to bring to thank Daniel’s parents – who had loved me very much. But the gate was locked.
The neighbor said:
– “Daniel just moved out. I heard he went to Canada to work. The other day I saw him give some old clothes to some people in the neighborhood.”
I asked if he left any message. The neighbor shook his head:
– “No. It seemed like he was in a hurry.”
Three months later, I received a letter from Canada. The handwriting was familiar, scribbled but clear – it was Daniel’s.
“I didn’t mean to say it, but you deserve to know.
I was diagnosed with early-stage leukemia. I went abroad because I had the opportunity to try a new treatment. I don’t know how long I have left. But I don’t want you and the child to be dragged into a spiral of fear.
I used to think that divorce was the end. But when I heard that Miguel was sick, I realized: there are connections that never end. You are our blood. You are a part of the memories that I cherish.
That torn shirt that day, I did it on purpose – because I knew that if I saw you cry, I wouldn’t have the courage to leave. I clenched the letter, tears welling up in my eyes. I was still me – a man who was clumsy in the way he expressed himself, but deep and responsible in the most important moments.
I wrote back. No blame, no promises. Just told him that Miguel was well, had started kindergarten, and that if I came back one day, the child would definitely be happy to have his father by his side. side.
This story – for me – does not have a perfect fairy tale ending. But it is enough for me to believe that: sometimes, love exists in the most silent way. And in the darkest moments of life, kindness – whether late or quiet – is still the lamp that warms the human heart.
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