The obstetrics ward was packed that day. A frontline public hospital in the heart of Manila was rarely quiet. Dr. Miguel Santos had just finished a cesarean section when he received an urgent order: a woman in rapid labor, her cervix nearly dilated, needed a doctor on duty.

He quickly changed his clothes and pushed the door open to the delivery room. But when he saw the person lying on the table, Miguel was stunned.

It was Maya Reyes – his ex-girlfriend. She had held his hand for seven years, then suddenly left without explanation. Now she lay there, sweating profusely, her belly bulging, her hand still clutching the phone. Maya’s eyes were slightly panicked when she saw Miguel.

– “You… are the main doctor?” – Maya whispered.

Miguel did not answer, just nodded slightly and together with the team pushed the stretcher into the delivery room.

The birth was difficult. Maya’s blood pressure dropped, the fetal heart rate was weak, and emergency intervention was required. In the tension, Miguel maintained his expertise, the whole room held their breath in coordination. Nearly 40 minutes later, the baby cried out.

And as soon as Miguel picked up the baby, he was stunned.

On the back of the baby’s neck was a rare red birthmark, a faint dot, located exactly in the same place as Miguel’s birthmark that his friends had teased him about as a child.

Miguel’s heart was pounding. He looked at the baby, then at Maya, who was breathing heavily, avoiding his eyes.

Miguel handed the baby to the nurse, washed his hands, and walked out. His mind was spinning. He couldn’t help but think about that possibility.

The day Maya left, a year later, Miguel received her wedding invitation – the groom was a businessman in Makati. Not long after that, Maya disappeared from social media.

And now, the baby had a birthmark like him?

When Maya woke up in the recovery room, Miguel walked in, closing the door behind him.

— “What are you hiding from me?”

Maya was silent for a long time, then burst into tears.

— “When I found out I was pregnant, my parents forced me to break up with you. They said you… had no future. I was angry, wanted to keep the baby, but then I was forced to marry someone else. I tried to deny it… but the baby was yours.”

Miguel was silent. The room was so quiet that both of them could only hear their own heartbeats pounding.

— “My husband… didn’t know the baby wasn’t his.” – Maya continued – “He was infertile and believed it was a miracle. I intended to hide it forever.”

— “And you, do you think I should know?” – Miguel hoarsely said.

Maya turned away, tears soaking her pillow.

— “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just want the baby to be safe, not dragged into trouble.”

Miguel left the room, walking down the brightly lit hallway. His heart was in turmoil. No resentment. Just emptiness – like he had just found a lost soul but couldn’t keep it.

He passed by the window of the newborn room. The baby slept soundly, his little hand gently clasped, the birthmark on the back of his neck blurred under the golden light.

He stood there for a long time. Then he turned away.

Two years later.

One stormy afternoon on Taft Avenue, Miguel got off work and just walked out of the hospital gate when he saw a figure hiding under the awning.

Maya – carrying a tiny boy in a yellow hat. The boy’s bright eyes stared at Miguel without blinking.

— “My husband and I are divorced.” – Maya said briefly. – “He… knows.”

Miguel bent down. The boy grabbed his finger, grinning. Miguel laughed reflexively.

Maya took out an envelope – the DNA test results.

— “I’m not forcing you to do anything. I just… think the child should know who his father is.”

Miguel didn’t open the envelope. He picked up the child and gently kissed his forehead.

— “No test needed. I knew… from the moment he was born.”