My father remarried a young wife, called me back urgently, as soon as I saw my stepmother and her pregnant belly, I turned pale in fear and ran away immediately….
I am Nico, a third-year student in Manila. It has been exactly 5 years since my mother passed away, my father – Ramon – lived alone in the countryside of Bulacan. I thought he would be lonely forever, never remarried. Until one late afternoon, the phone rang.

“Come back this weekend, I have something important to do.” My father’s voice was low and decisive.

I was restless all night. Saturday morning, I took a bus back to barangay San Roque. The familiar country road, the coconut trees, the old tiled roof suddenly became strange. I stepped into the yard. The door opened…

My father stood there. Beside him was a woman. My eyes slid down to her round, big belly as if she was keeping an undeniable secret. I stammered, my heart pounding:

No… it can’t be…

The woman looked up – and I froze. Lara.

Lara – my high school classmate in town – the person I secretly loved all through high school but never dared to say anything.

My legs stopped, my head was spinning. Dad was about to step forward, stammering:

– You… let me say it…

I couldn’t listen. I turned and rushed to the bank of the Angat River – where I used to fly kites in my childhood, where I used to sit with my mother on cool afternoons. I collapsed, holding my head, screaming helplessly. Why Lara? The person who filled my youth, now standing next to Dad – carrying his blood in her.

Darkness fell, Dad found me. He sat down, sighed:
– Nico, I know you’re shocked. But I don’t want to hide it from you. Dad is old… living alone for many years, very lonely. Dad met Lara by chance, then we relied on each other. Lara loves Dad… and loves you too.

I jumped up, looked straight into my father’s eyes, and choked:
– Dad, do you know… I used to like her? She was my whole youth! Now she’s my wife… do you understand how I feel?!

Dad was stunned. His eyes were red but he was still determined:
– Dad doesn’t know. If he knew, maybe he would think differently. But my child, youthful feelings are memories. Right now, Lara and the baby need a home.

I laughed bitterly. His words were like a knife piercing my heart.

The next day, Lara found me in the hallway of the parish church. She gently held her stomach, her voice trembling
– Nico… I’m sorry. I knew you had feelings for me back then, but we were both too young. I loved you, but I never thought we would go down the same path. Life pushed me… in the end I was with your father. I don’t want to hurt you.

I squeezed his hand:
– You said you didn’t want to, but you chose my father. Do you know how much that hurt?

Lara burst into tears, hugging her belly as if to protect the child. Seeing that scene, I felt both hatred and pity, anger and helplessness.

That night, I opened the old wooden box where my mother had kept the letter. The familiar handwriting appeared:

“Nico, I just hope you live a good life, know how to love people and cherish your family. If one day your father remarries, please forgive him, don’t leave him alone.”

Tears fell on the letter. My heart was both broken and held together.

On the wedding day, I stood outside the San Miguel parish church. My father wore a simple suit; Lara wore a white Filipiniana, gently rubbing her pregnant belly. I wanted to rush in, wanted to shout “No!”, but my legs felt like they were being held tightly.

In the end, I just quietly left an envelope on the reception desk:

“I can’t bless you, but I can’t hate you either. I’m leaving, I hope you’re safe.”

I turned and walked away. The wedding bells echoed behind me; every step felt like stepping on my own heart.

My youth, my family – everything shattered in that moment. But my mother’s words were still there, guiding me through the storm: one day, I would be calm enough to return to Bulacan, look at the old roof – where a child would call me kuya – and learn to accept