Accidentally pregnant with the CEO, I ran away to Japan with my pregnant belly, who would have thought that the day I returned to the Philippines…

I still remember very clearly that afternoon – the afternoon I discovered I was pregnant. Holding the test results in my hand, I was almost stunned. I – an ordinary employee at the company, was pregnant with the most powerful man: the CEO. Our relationship was already a secret, only when we finished work late, when the office lights were off, could we look at each other openly. But now, a small creature had appeared, binding me to him, even though I knew clearly that the distance between us was unbridgeable.

He – Miguel Ramirez, a man in his 30s, cold but always gentle when he was with me. I – just an administrative employee, so ordinary that no one noticed. We came together like a short-lived intoxication, no promises, only moments of rapid heartbeat in the dark.

That night, I called him. His voice on the other end of the line was still calm, but when he heard the news, he was silent for a long time. Then he just said:

“I need time.”

Time? I smiled bitterly. How could I, alone, bear the scrutiny of society, the difference in status, and the unborn child?

Just a week later, I packed my bags and quietly flew to Japan, where my best friend from college was working. I left without a word of warning, not even to him.

Japan has a cold winter. I started a new life with a growing belly. I worked part-time at a small coffee shop, studying and working as an interpreter to make ends meet. At night, I often held my belly and whispered:
“Baby, I will try my best, even without my father by my side.”

There were days when I missed him so much, I opened my phone to look at old messages. But then I brushed them aside, telling myself: he has his own world, I shouldn’t interfere.

Three years passed. I had a handsome son named Kenji. Life gradually stabilized. But deep down, I knew that the fateful thread had never disappeared.

Then one day, my mother called from Manila, her voice trembling:

“My son, your father is seriously ill. If possible, please come back…”

I was speechless. Come back? Come back to face all the past, with that man, and all the secrets I had buried?

The plane landed at Ninoy Aquino Airport in Manila, my heart was in turmoil. It had been three years since I had returned to the Philippines, bringing with me a three-year-old boy with big round eyes just like his father. Kenji held my hand tightly, innocently asking:

“Is it like Tokyo here, Mom?”

I smiled, trying to hide the trembling in my heart:

“There are grandparents here, I will like it.”

When I got home, I almost burst into tears when I saw my father lying weakly on the hospital bed. He held my hand, his voice trembling:

“I am happy that you are back. And that boy… who is he?”

Before I could answer, my mother spoke up to cover up:

“His best friend asked me to take care of him for a while.”

I knew my mother was trying to protect me, but how could I hide it forever? This child had Ramirez blood, just a sharp look could tell.

In the following days, I was busy with my father’s illness, but my heart was always uneasy. The news of my return to the country would definitely reach him sooner or later. Sure enough, that afternoon, when I took Kenji to buy some snacks at the end of the alley, a luxurious black car stopped. The window rolled down, and a deep, familiar voice rang out:

“You’re back?”

I paused, my heart stopped beating. It was him – Miguel Ramirez. Still the same calm face, only his eyes looked at me more deeply.

Kenji hid behind me, his eyes curiously looking at the strange man. Miguel also looked at him, his eyes slightly trembling. I hurriedly pulled my son away, pretending not to hear. But he did not ignore me, only softly saying:

“We need to talk.”

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I knew that sooner or later I would have to face it. And then, a week later, he came to the house. This time, my mother sat there, silently watching. Kenji was playing in the living room.

He looked at me and asked softly, “Is he your son?”

I bit my lip, trying to avoid the question, “Don’t think too much. He’s just…”

“Don’t deny it anymore.” His voice cut in, determined. “I can tell just by looking at him. Do you think you can hide it from me for the rest of your life?”

I was silent. My mother sighed and put her hand on my shoulder, “My child, it’s time to face it.”

At that moment, I was both scared and relieved. Scared because the truth was exposed, relieved because I no longer had to bear the secret alone. I hugged Kenji, tears falling.

Miguel approached, his eyes softening, “I’m sorry for being silent that day. For the past three years, I’ve been looking for you. You can hate me, but don’t take away my right to be a father.”

My heart was shaken. I didn’t expect him to still care. But could we ever go back? Between him and me, besides feelings, there is also social distance, public opinion, and the responsibilities weighing on his shoulders.

From that day on, Miguel often came over. At first, I refused, afraid of people in the neighborhood gossiping, afraid of scrutinizing eyes. But Kenji gradually got used to it, calling him “Uncle Miguel”, chattering about school. I saw joy in his eyes, the joy that he had missed for the past three years.

One afternoon, when I was hanging clothes in the yard, he came over, standing quietly next to me.

“I know you are worried about public opinion, worried about the future of the child. But I promise, I will take responsibility. You may not forgive me, but please give the child a father.”

I paused. His words made me cry. For the past three years, I had gotten used to being a single mother, thinking that my love was enough. But Kenji still often asked:

“Mom, do I have a father?”

I never got an answer.

In the following days, he patiently proved his sincerity. He was no longer the cold CEO in front of his employees, but a simple man, bending down to tie his son’s shoelaces, patiently sitting and playing with his son. My mother also gradually opened her heart.

One time, my father – despite his serious illness, still held my hand and advised:

“My son, life is short. Don’t regret it. If he is sincere, give him a chance.”

I was silent for a long time. In my heart, the wall of separation gradually collapsed. I no longer saw him as someone standing in a world too far away, but as a father, a man who wanted to make up for it.

On Kenji’s 4th birthday, we held a small party. Not many friends came, only family and a few relatives. While blowing out the candles, Kenji suddenly said loudly:

“I wish my parents were always with me!”

The space fell silent. I looked at Miguel, catching his red eyes. He squeezed my hand and said softly, “Give me a chance, okay? Not for me, but for the child.”

I choked up. After so many storms, perhaps it was time to let go of fear.

I nodded.

Kenji clapped his hands and shouted, “Yeah! I have a father!”

The whole room erupted in laughter. In that moment, I knew that the escape journey was over. It was no longer a haunting past, but a new beginning – where I was no longer alone, where my child had both a father and a mother.