The day I heard that my ex-husband — Miguel Ramos — was getting married, my heart suddenly ached. Even though we had broken up and completed the annulment procedure for three years, deep down, I still hadn’t completely let go. What caught my attention the most was the gossip of my relatives and friends: “He married a disabled girl, in a wheelchair, she looked so pitiful.”

My selfishness and pride rose. I thought to myself: The man who abandoned me had finally found a disabled woman to marry. That was the price of his choice. That thought made me strangely relieved. I decided to attend the wedding, to appear gorgeous, to show Miguel and everyone else that I was the worthy woman.

That night, I stood in front of the mirror for hours. The tight red dress, the elaborate curls, and the sharp makeup made me feel confident like a queen. I imagined walking into the hall, all eyes on me, comparing me — radiant, proud — to a frail bride in a wheelchair. Surely I would stand out.

The wedding reception was at a luxury hotel in Makati. The music was loud, the laughter was bustling. I walked in, recognizing many acquaintances astonished. I held my head high as if I were the center of attention.

The important moment arrived. The door opened, and Miguel in his elegant barong Tagalog pushed his wheelchair in. In the car was the bride — petite, gentle-faced, with a gentle smile. The MC introduced, then Miguel took the microphone, his voice trembling as he spoke: “Three years ago, on a business trip in the Bicol region, I had an accident. The person who rushed out to save me was Angela Santos. She pulled me out of the way of an oncoming truck, and I was so badly injured that I could not walk. From that moment on, I promised myself that I would spend my life loving and protecting her. Today, I kept my promise.”

The whole audience burst into tears. I was speechless. My heart felt like it was being squeezed. The woman I thought would be the object of my ridicule turned out to be my ex-husband’s savior.

I remember the last days of our marriage: I blamed Miguel for being heartless, not taking care of his family; he was silent, constantly on business trips. I was angry, thinking he no longer loved me, and decided to break up. I never asked why, nor gave him a chance to explain. Now I know: those trips changed his life, brought him to the girl who had traded her future to save his life.

Looking at the look Miguel gave Angela, I understood that he had never given me that look: gratitude, respect, and deep love.

I sat silently throughout the whole time. I no longer felt triumphant or proud. The sarcastic words I had prepared suddenly turned into knives cutting back into my heart. I realized that I was the one who had lost.

When the dance began, Miguel bent down to lift the bride from the wheelchair, guiding her into his arms. They hugged each other tightly, slowly spinning around to the music. The guests stood up and applauded, many of them shedding tears. I also turned away and quickly wiped them away.

That night, when I got home, I sat in front of the mirror, dazed. My gorgeous makeup was now smudged with tears. I burst into tears: for my selfishness, for my broken marriage due to my ego, for a strange but brave woman who sacrificed her whole life to save the man I once loved.

I suddenly understood: happiness is not about comparing, not about gorgeous appearance or empty pride. Happiness is simply finding someone worthy of loving and being loved, no matter how flawed that person is.

That night, I cried for a long time. And perhaps, for the first time in many years, I cried not because I regretted the man who left me, but because I saw through the smallness and selfishness in my own heart — in the middle of a glamorous Manila, where I had just learned the greatest lesson about love and gratitude.