When I went to take care of my ex-husband in the hospital in Manila, when he was discharged he asked to remarry, I only asked him three questions that made him stunned. I said it wasn’t to get revenge, I just wanted him to wake up.

Paolo and I met through relatives in Manila who introduced us. The first day we met, he was gentle, thoughtful and very caring. At that time, I—Mira—was still young, not thinking about getting married early, but in front of his sincerity and gentleness, I gradually opened my heart.

He never complained when I was late for each appointment. Every time we met, he took me all the way home, then came back. On weekends or holidays, he took the initiative to plan outings; I just had to follow, without having to worry about anything. Nanay Rosa and Tatay Ernesto (Paolo’s parents) were very pleased to see him treat me so well, even though I originally planned to wait a few years before getting married.

Paolo is four years older than me, his parents were quite impatient, constantly urging us to get engaged. They said that if we weren’t married yet, we could just get engaged first, and then we could get married after we had children. But my parents didn’t accept the idea of ​​“getting married by accident”, so after much discussion, we decided to get married. Less than a year after we met, we had a small wedding in the church in the barangay. My husband’s parents gave us a thick envelope; my parents gave us a car as a dowry. My husband’s parents had prepared an apartment in Quezon City (still with a loan), but Paolo’s salary was stable at that time, so there wasn’t much to worry about.

At first, my husband and I lived separately. In the second year, I got pregnant, and Paolo suggested moving in with my in-laws so that Nanay could take care of me. I agreed because my family was busy preparing for my younger brother’s wedding and couldn’t come to help.

Since moving in, Paolo started to change. During his pregnancy, he often came home very late, saying he was hanging out with the barkada. He told me that Nanay was taking care of me, so he could “relax”; now that I didn’t have a child, I could enjoy it, but later when I was busy with diapers and milk, I wouldn’t have the chance.

Then I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl—Mia. I thought that would be fine, but the unexpected happened. One day, a woman came to my house. In front of Nanay and Tatay, she loudly asked me to divorce her so that she could be the “first wife”. I was devastated. Paolo came home, we argued fiercely, and he even insulted me. Upset, the next morning I dragged him to file for divorce; in the afternoon, I packed up and took the child back to my mother’s house.

Mia followed me, and from then on, I cut off contact with Paolo. Some friends said that after I left, Nanay and Tatay fell ill because they were so sad.

When my child turned two, during his small birthday, my ex-husband’s parents unexpectedly came. They said Paolo had an accident and was in the hospital in Manila, hoping I would come visit him because he was very remorseful.

Honestly, I no longer had any feelings. But thinking about the kindness Nanay and Tatay had shown me and Mia in the past, I agreed to take care of Paolo in the hospital—simply because they loved me like their own child; I couldn’t bear to let two old people suffer.

After being discharged from the hospital, Paolo suddenly said he wanted to remarry. I didn’t answer. He kept begging. Finally, I smiled slightly and asked three questions:

“I’m doing very well now: I have someone who loves me, a stable job, and a good daughter. Why would I go back to someone who betrayed me?”

“Go find someone better than me and marry her.”

“But you still haven’t married her? Or are you not sure that the child you gave birth to is yours?”

I didn’t say it out of revenge, just hoping he would wake up. Paolo was silent. I didn’t want to hear those words of regret anymore. Lost trust cannot be mended. For me, a good daughter is enough; I don’t need a man by my side to live happily.

In the following years, I devoted myself to work and taking care of my child. Gradually, I built a stable life: a good job, a small home in Quezon City filled with laughter. Mia grew up in love; despite lacking a father, she never lacked affection. Occasionally, Nanay and Tatay still came to visit her. I did not forbid her, nor did I hold grudges. Everything had passed, I chose to let go—not for anyone else, but for myself.

Now, looking back, I thank the storms that helped me grow. Through each injury, I learned to love myself more, to be stronger, and to live for the true happiness of my mother and child.

Life may not be perfect, but I believe: a self-reliant woman who knows how to love herself will always have a beautiful ending—whether there is a man by her side or not.